![“sdv-dev”](\"https://dai.lids.mit.edu/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/Logo_DAI_highres.png\"){kind=logo}
\nAn open source project from Data to AI Lab at MIT.\n\n\nAn open source project from Data to AI Lab at MIT.\n
![](\"https://github.com/titu1994/neural-image-assessment/blob/master/images/NIMA.jpg?raw=true\")
\r\n\r\n![](\"https://github.com/titu1994/neural-image-assessment/blob/master/images/NIMA2.jpg?raw=true\")
\r\n\r\n# Requirements\r\n- Keras\r\n- Tensorflow (CPU to evaluate, GPU to train)\r\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/image feat. extraction/neural-image-assessment/evaluate_inception_resnet.py",
"content": "import numpy as np\nimport argparse\nfrom path import Path\n\nfrom keras.models import Model\nfrom keras.layers import Dense, Dropout\nfrom keras.applications.inception_resnet_v2 import InceptionResNetV2\nfrom keras.applications.inception_resnet_v2 import preprocess_input\nfrom keras.preprocessing.image import load_img, img_to_array\nimport tensorflow as tf\nimport tqdm\nfrom utils.score_utils import mean_score, std_score\n\nparser = argparse.ArgumentParser(description=\"Evaluate NIMA(Inception ResNet v2)\")\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-dir\", type=str, default=None, help=\"Pass a directory to evaluate the images in it\"\n)\n\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-img\",\n type=str,\n default=[None],\n nargs=\"+\",\n help=\"Pass one or more image paths to evaluate them\",\n)\n\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-resize\", type=str, default=\"false\", help=\"Resize images to 224x224 before scoring\"\n)\n\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-rank\",\n type=str,\n default=\"true\",\n help=\"Whether to tank the images after they have been scored\",\n)\n\nargs = parser.parse_args()\nresize_image = args.resize.lower() in (\"true\", \"yes\", \"t\", \"1\")\ntarget_size = (224, 224) # if resize_image else None\nrank_images = args.rank.lower() in (\"true\", \"yes\", \"t\", \"1\")\n\n# give priority to directory\nif args.dir is not None:\n print(\"Loading images from directory : \", args.dir)\n imgs = Path(args.dir).files(\"*.png\")\n imgs += Path(args.dir).files(\"*.jpg\")\n imgs += Path(args.dir).files(\"*.jpeg\")\n\nelif args.img[0] is not None:\n print(\"Loading images from path(s) : \", args.img)\n imgs = args.img\n\nelse:\n raise RuntimeError(\"Either -dir or -img arguments must be passed as argument\")\n\nwith tf.device(\"/GPU:0\"):\n base_model = InceptionResNetV2(\n input_shape=(None, None, 3), include_top=False, pooling=\"avg\", weights=None\n )\n x = Dropout(0.75)(base_model.output)\n x = Dense(10, activation=\"softmax\")(x)\n\n model = Model(base_model.input, x)\n model.load_weights(\"weights/inception_resnet_weights.h5\")\n\n score_list = np.empty((len(imgs), 11), dtype=object)\n step = 20000\n i = 0\n while i < len(imgs):\n print(i)\n imgs_temp = imgs[i : i + step]\n img_array = np.empty((len(imgs_temp), 224, 224, 3))\n file_names = []\n for ind, j in tqdm.tqdm(enumerate(imgs_temp)):\n x = preprocess_input(\n np.expand_dims(\n img_to_array(load_img(j, target_size=target_size)), axis=0\n )\n )\n img_array[ind,] = x\n file_names.append(Path(j).name.lower())\n\n scores = model.predict(img_array, batch_size=100, verbose=0)\n\n # si = np.arange(1, 11, 1)\n\n # mean = np.sum(scores * si, axis=1)\n\n # std = np.sqrt(np.sum(((np.array([si, ] * len(imgs_temp)) - mean.reshape(len(imgs_temp), -1)) ** 2) * scores, axis=1))\n\n # result = np.stack([file_names, mean, std]).transpose()\n # result = np.stack([file_names, scores]).transpose()\n # score_list[i:i + step, ] = result\n score_list[i : i + step, 0] = file_names\n score_list[i : i + step, 1:] = scores\n i += step\n # print(step, len(imgs))\n # print(type(step), type(i), type(len(imgs)))\n\n np.save(\"resnet_scores_test.npy\", score_list)\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/image feat. extraction/neural-image-assessment/evaluate_mobilenet.py",
"content": "import numpy as np\nimport argparse\nfrom path import Path\n\nfrom keras.models import Model\nfrom keras.layers import Dense, Dropout\nfrom keras.applications.mobilenet import MobileNet\nfrom keras.applications.mobilenet import preprocess_input\nfrom keras.preprocessing.image import load_img, img_to_array\nimport tensorflow as tf\nimport tqdm\nfrom utils.score_utils import mean_score, std_score\n\nparser = argparse.ArgumentParser(description=\"Evaluate NIMA(Inception ResNet v2)\")\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-dir\", type=str, default=None, help=\"Pass a directory to evaluate the images in it\"\n)\n\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-img\",\n type=str,\n default=[None],\n nargs=\"+\",\n help=\"Pass one or more image paths to evaluate them\",\n)\n\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-resize\", type=str, default=\"false\", help=\"Resize images to 224x224 before scoring\"\n)\n\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-rank\",\n type=str,\n default=\"true\",\n help=\"Whether to tank the images after they have been scored\",\n)\n\nargs = parser.parse_args()\nresize_image = args.resize.lower() in (\"true\", \"yes\", \"t\", \"1\")\ntarget_size = (224, 224) # if resize_image else None\nrank_images = args.rank.lower() in (\"true\", \"yes\", \"t\", \"1\")\n\n# give priority to directory\nif args.dir is not None:\n print(\"Loading images from directory : \", args.dir)\n imgs = Path(args.dir).files(\"*.png\")\n imgs += Path(args.dir).files(\"*.jpg\")\n imgs += Path(args.dir).files(\"*.jpeg\")\n\nelif args.img[0] is not None:\n print(\"Loading images from path(s) : \", args.img)\n imgs = args.img\n\nelse:\n raise RuntimeError(\"Either -dir or -img arguments must be passed as argument\")\n\nwith tf.device(\"/GPU:0\"):\n base_model = MobileNet(\n (None, None, 3), alpha=1, include_top=False, pooling=\"avg\", weights=None\n )\n x = Dropout(0.75)(base_model.output)\n x = Dense(10, activation=\"softmax\")(x)\n\n model = Model(base_model.input, x)\n model.load_weights(\"weights/mobilenet_weights.h5\")\n\n score_list = np.empty((len(imgs), 11), dtype=object)\n step = 10000\n i = 0\n while i < len(imgs):\n print(i)\n imgs_temp = imgs[i : i + step]\n img_array = np.empty((len(imgs_temp), 224, 224, 3))\n file_names = []\n for ind, j in tqdm.tqdm(enumerate(imgs_temp)):\n x = preprocess_input(\n np.expand_dims(\n img_to_array(load_img(j, target_size=target_size)), axis=0\n )\n )\n img_array[ind,] = x\n file_names.append(Path(j).name.lower())\n\n scores = model.predict(img_array, batch_size=100, verbose=0)\n\n # si = np.arange(1, 11, 1)\n\n # mean = np.sum(scores * si, axis=1)\n\n # std = np.sqrt(np.sum(((np.array([si, ] * len(imgs_temp)) - mean.reshape(len(imgs_temp), -1)) ** 2) * scores, axis=1))\n\n # result = np.stack([file_names, mean, std]).transpose()\n # result = np.stack([file_names, scores]).transpose()\n # score_list[i:i + step, ] = result\n score_list[i : i + step, 0] = file_names\n score_list[i : i + step, 1:] = scores\n i += step\n # print(step, len(imgs))\n # print(type(step), type(i), type(len(imgs)))\n\n np.save(\"MobileNet_scores_test.npy\", score_list)\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/image feat. extraction/neural-image-assessment/evaluate_nasnet.py",
"content": "import numpy as np\nimport argparse\nfrom path import Path\n\nfrom keras.models import Model\nfrom keras.layers import Dense, Dropout\nfrom keras.preprocessing.image import load_img, img_to_array\nimport tensorflow as tf\nimport tqdm\nfrom utils.nasnet import NASNetMobile, preprocess_input\nfrom utils.score_utils import mean_score, std_score\n\nparser = argparse.ArgumentParser(description=\"Evaluate NIMA(Inception ResNet v2)\")\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-dir\", type=str, default=None, help=\"Pass a directory to evaluate the images in it\"\n)\n\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-img\",\n type=str,\n default=[None],\n nargs=\"+\",\n help=\"Pass one or more image paths to evaluate them\",\n)\n\nparser.add_argument(\n \"-rank\",\n type=str,\n default=\"true\",\n help=\"Whether to tank the images after they have been scored\",\n)\n\nargs = parser.parse_args()\ntarget_size = (224, 224) # NASNet requires strict size set to 224x224\nrank_images = args.rank.lower() in (\"true\", \"yes\", \"t\", \"1\")\n\n# give priority to directory\nif args.dir is not None:\n print(\"Loading images from directory : \", args.dir)\n imgs = Path(args.dir).files(\"*.png\")\n imgs += Path(args.dir).files(\"*.jpg\")\n imgs += Path(args.dir).files(\"*.jpeg\")\n\nelif args.img[0] is not None:\n print(\"Loading images from path(s) : \", args.img)\n imgs = args.img\n\nelse:\n raise RuntimeError(\"Either -dir or -img arguments must be passed as argument\")\n\nwith tf.device(\"/GPU:0\"):\n base_model = NASNetMobile(\n (224, 224, 3), include_top=False, pooling=\"avg\", weights=None\n )\n x = Dropout(0.75)(base_model.output)\n x = Dense(10, activation=\"softmax\")(x)\n\n model = Model(base_model.input, x)\n model.load_weights(\"weights/nasnet_weights.h5\")\n\n score_list = np.empty((len(imgs), 11), dtype=object)\n step = 20000\n i = 0\n while i < len(imgs):\n print(i)\n imgs_temp = imgs[i : i + step]\n img_array = np.empty((len(imgs_temp), 224, 224, 3))\n file_names = []\n for ind, j in tqdm.tqdm(enumerate(imgs_temp)):\n x = preprocess_input(\n np.expand_dims(\n img_to_array(load_img(j, target_size=target_size)), axis=0\n )\n )\n img_array[ind,] = x\n file_names.append(Path(j).name.lower())\n\n scores = model.predict(img_array, batch_size=100, verbose=0)\n\n # si = np.arange(1, 11, 1)\n\n # mean = np.sum(scores * si, axis=1)\n\n # std = np.sqrt(np.sum(((np.array([si, ] * len(imgs_temp)) - mean.reshape(len(imgs_temp), -1)) ** 2) * scores, axis=1))\n\n # result = np.stack([file_names, mean, std]).transpose()\n # result = np.stack([file_names, scores]).transpose()\n # score_list[i:i + step, ] = result\n score_list[i : i + step, 0] = file_names\n score_list[i : i + step, 1:] = scores\n i += step\n # print(step, len(imgs))\n # print(type(step), type(i), type(len(imgs)))\n\n np.save(\"nasnet_scores_test.npy\", score_list)\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/image feat. extraction/neural-image-assessment/utils/check_dataset.py",
"content": "import numpy as np\nimport os\nimport glob\n\nimport tensorflow as tf\n\n\"\"\"\nChecks all images from the AVA dataset if they have corrupted jpegs, and lists them for removal.\n\nRemoval must be done manually !\n\"\"\"\n\nbase_images_path = r\"D:\\Yue\\Documents\\Datasets\\AVA_dataset\\images\\images\\\\\"\nava_dataset_path = r\"D:\\Yue\\Documents\\Datasets\\AVA_dataset\\AVA.txt\"\n\nIMAGE_SIZE = 128\nBASE_LEN = len(base_images_path) - 1\n\nfiles = glob.glob(base_images_path + \"*.jpg\")\nfiles = sorted(files)\n\ntrain_image_paths = []\ntrain_scores = []\n\nprint(\"Loading training set and val set\")\nwith open(ava_dataset_path, mode=\"r\") as f:\n lines = f.readlines()\n for i, line in enumerate(lines):\n token = line.split()\n id = int(token[1])\n\n values = np.array(token[2:12], dtype=\"float32\")\n values /= values.sum()\n\n file_path = base_images_path + str(id) + \".jpg\"\n if os.path.exists(file_path):\n train_image_paths.append(file_path)\n train_scores.append(values)\n\n count = 255000 // 20\n if i % count == 0 and i != 0:\n print(\"Loaded %0.2f of the dataset\" % (i / 255000.0 * 100))\n\n\ntrain_image_paths = np.array(train_image_paths)\ntrain_scores = np.array(train_scores, dtype=\"float32\")\n\nval_image_paths = train_image_paths[-5000:]\nval_scores = train_scores[-5000:]\ntrain_image_paths = train_image_paths[:-5000]\ntrain_scores = train_scores[:-5000]\n\n\ndef parse_data(filename):\n image = tf.read_file(filename)\n image = tf.image.decode_jpeg(image, channels=3)\n return image\n\n\nsess = tf.Session()\nwith sess.as_default():\n sess.run(tf.global_variables_initializer())\n\n count = 0\n fn = tf.placeholder(dtype=tf.string)\n img = parse_data(fn)\n\n for path in train_image_paths:\n try:\n sess.run(img, feed_dict={fn: path})\n except Exception as e:\n print(path, \"failed to load !\")\n print()\n count += 1\n\n print(count, \"images failed to load !\")\n\nprint(\"All done !\")\n\n\"\"\"\nHad to delete file : 440774.jpg and remove row from AVA.txt\nHad to delete file : 179118.jpg and remove row from AVA.txt\nHad to delete file : 371434.jpg and remove row from AVA.txt\nHad to delete file : 277832.jpg and remove row from AVA.txt\nHad to delete file : 230701.jpg and remove row from AVA.txt\nHad to delete file : 729377.jpg and remove row from AVA.txt\n\"\"\"\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/image feat. extraction/neural-image-assessment/utils/data_loader.py",
"content": "import numpy as np\nimport os\nimport glob\n\nimport tensorflow as tf\n\n# path to the images and the text file which holds the scores and ids\nbase_images_path = r\"D:\\Yue\\Documents\\Datasets\\AVA_dataset\\images\\images\\\\\"\nava_dataset_path = r\"D:\\Yue\\Documents\\Datasets\\AVA_dataset\\AVA.txt\"\n\nIMAGE_SIZE = 224\n\nfiles = glob.glob(base_images_path + \"*.jpg\")\nfiles = sorted(files)\n\ntrain_image_paths = []\ntrain_scores = []\n\nprint(\"Loading training set and val set\")\nwith open(ava_dataset_path, mode=\"r\") as f:\n lines = f.readlines()\n for i, line in enumerate(lines):\n token = line.split()\n id = int(token[1])\n\n values = np.array(token[2:12], dtype=\"float32\")\n values /= values.sum()\n\n file_path = base_images_path + str(id) + \".jpg\"\n if os.path.exists(file_path):\n train_image_paths.append(file_path)\n train_scores.append(values)\n\n count = 255000 // 20\n if i % count == 0 and i != 0:\n print(\"Loaded %d percent of the dataset\" % (i / 255000.0 * 100))\n\ntrain_image_paths = np.array(train_image_paths)\ntrain_scores = np.array(train_scores, dtype=\"float32\")\n\nval_image_paths = train_image_paths[-5000:]\nval_scores = train_scores[-5000:]\ntrain_image_paths = train_image_paths[:-5000]\ntrain_scores = train_scores[:-5000]\n\nprint(\"Train set size : \", train_image_paths.shape, train_scores.shape)\nprint(\"Val set size : \", val_image_paths.shape, val_scores.shape)\nprint(\"Train and validation datasets ready !\")\n\n\ndef parse_data(filename, scores):\n \"\"\"\n Loads the image file, and randomly applies crops and flips to each image.\n\n Args:\n filename: the filename from the record\n scores: the scores from the record\n\n Returns:\n an image referred to by the filename and its scores\n \"\"\"\n image = tf.read_file(filename)\n image = tf.image.decode_jpeg(image, channels=3)\n image = tf.image.resize_images(image, (256, 256))\n image = tf.random_crop(image, size=(IMAGE_SIZE, IMAGE_SIZE, 3))\n image = tf.image.random_flip_left_right(image)\n image = (tf.cast(image, tf.float32) - 127.5) / 127.5\n return image, scores\n\n\ndef parse_data_without_augmentation(filename, scores):\n \"\"\"\n Loads the image file without any augmentation. Used for validation set.\n\n Args:\n filename: the filename from the record\n scores: the scores from the record\n\n Returns:\n an image referred to by the filename and its scores\n \"\"\"\n image = tf.read_file(filename)\n image = tf.image.decode_jpeg(image, channels=3)\n image = tf.image.resize_images(image, (IMAGE_SIZE, IMAGE_SIZE))\n image = (tf.cast(image, tf.float32) - 127.5) / 127.5\n return image, scores\n\n\ndef train_generator(batchsize, shuffle=True):\n \"\"\"\n Creates a python generator that loads the AVA dataset images with random data\n augmentation and generates numpy arrays to feed into the Keras model for training.\n\n Args:\n batchsize: batchsize for training\n shuffle: whether to shuffle the dataset\n\n Returns:\n a batch of samples (X_images, y_scores)\n \"\"\"\n with tf.Session() as sess:\n # create a dataset\n train_dataset = tf.data.Dataset().from_tensor_slices(\n (train_image_paths, train_scores)\n )\n train_dataset = train_dataset.map(parse_data, num_parallel_calls=2)\n\n train_dataset = train_dataset.batch(batchsize)\n train_dataset = train_dataset.repeat()\n if shuffle:\n train_dataset = train_dataset.shuffle(buffer_size=4)\n train_iterator = train_dataset.make_initializable_iterator()\n\n train_batch = train_iterator.get_next()\n\n sess.run(train_iterator.initializer)\n\n while True:\n try:\n X_batch, y_batch = sess.run(train_batch)\n yield (X_batch, y_batch)\n except:\n train_iterator = train_dataset.make_initializable_iterator()\n sess.run(train_iterator.initializer)\n train_batch = train_iterator.get_next()\n\n X_batch, y_batch = sess.run(train_batch)\n yield (X_batch, y_batch)\n\n\ndef val_generator(batchsize):\n \"\"\"\n Creates a python generator that loads the AVA dataset images without random data\n augmentation and generates numpy arrays to feed into the Keras model for training.\n\n Args:\n batchsize: batchsize for validation set\n\n Returns:\n a batch of samples (X_images, y_scores)\n \"\"\"\n with tf.Session() as sess:\n val_dataset = tf.data.Dataset().from_tensor_slices(\n (val_image_paths, val_scores)\n )\n val_dataset = val_dataset.map(parse_data_without_augmentation)\n\n val_dataset = val_dataset.batch(batchsize)\n val_dataset = val_dataset.repeat()\n val_iterator = val_dataset.make_initializable_iterator()\n\n val_batch = val_iterator.get_next()\n\n sess.run(val_iterator.initializer)\n\n while True:\n try:\n X_batch, y_batch = sess.run(val_batch)\n yield (X_batch, y_batch)\n except:\n val_iterator = val_dataset.make_initializable_iterator()\n sess.run(val_iterator.initializer)\n val_batch = val_iterator.get_next()\n\n X_batch, y_batch = sess.run(val_batch)\n yield (X_batch, y_batch)\n\n\ndef features_generator(record_path, faeture_size, batchsize, shuffle=True):\n \"\"\"\n Creates a python generator that loads pre-extracted features from a model\n and serves it to Keras for pre-training.\n\n Args:\n record_path: path to the TF Record file\n faeture_size: the number of features in each record. Depends on the base model.\n batchsize: batchsize for training\n shuffle: whether to shuffle the records\n\n Returns:\n a batch of samples (X_features, y_scores)\n \"\"\"\n with tf.Session() as sess:\n # maps record examples to numpy arrays\n\n def parse_single_record(serialized_example):\n # parse a single record\n example = tf.parse_single_example(\n serialized_example,\n features={\n \"features\": tf.FixedLenFeature([faeture_size], tf.float32),\n \"scores\": tf.FixedLenFeature([10], tf.float32),\n },\n )\n\n features = example[\"features\"]\n scores = example[\"scores\"]\n return features, scores\n\n # Loads the TF dataset\n train_dataset = tf.data.TFRecordDataset([record_path])\n train_dataset = train_dataset.map(parse_single_record, num_parallel_calls=4)\n\n train_dataset = train_dataset.batch(batchsize)\n train_dataset = train_dataset.repeat()\n if shuffle:\n train_dataset = train_dataset.shuffle(buffer_size=5)\n train_iterator = train_dataset.make_initializable_iterator()\n\n train_batch = train_iterator.get_next()\n\n sess.run(train_iterator.initializer)\n\n # indefinitely extract batches\n while True:\n try:\n X_batch, y_batch = sess.run(train_batch)\n yield (X_batch, y_batch)\n except:\n train_iterator = train_dataset.make_initializable_iterator()\n sess.run(train_iterator.initializer)\n train_batch = train_iterator.get_next()\n\n X_batch, y_batch = sess.run(train_batch)\n yield (X_batch, y_batch)\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/image feat. extraction/neural-image-assessment/utils/nasnet.py",
"content": "\"\"\"NASNet-A models for Keras\n\nNASNet refers to Neural Architecture Search Network, a family of models\nthat were designed automatically by learning the model architectures\ndirectly on the dataset of interest.\n\nHere we consider NASNet-A, the highest performance model that was found\nfor the CIFAR-10 dataset, and then extended to ImageNet 2012 dataset,\nobtaining state of the art performance on CIFAR-10 and ImageNet 2012.\nOnly the NASNet-A models, and their respective weights, which are suited\nfor ImageNet 2012 are provided.\n\nThe below table describes the performance on ImageNet 2012:\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n Architecture | Top-1 Acc | Top-5 Acc | Multiply-Adds | Params (M)\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n| NASNet-A (4 @ 1056) | 74.0 % | 91.6 % | 564 M | 5.3 |\n| NASNet-A (6 @ 4032) | 82.7 % | 96.2 % | 23.8 B | 88.9 |\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nWeights obtained from the official Tensorflow repository found at\nhttps://github.com/tensorflow/models/tree/master/research/slim/nets/nasnet\n\n# References:\n - [Learning Transferable Architectures for Scalable Image Recognition]\n (https://arxiv.org/abs/1707.07012)\n\nBased on the following implementations:\n - [TF Slim Implementation]\n (https://github.com/tensorflow/models/blob/master/research/slim/nets/nasnet/nasnet.)\n - [TensorNets implementation]\n (https://github.com/taehoonlee/tensornets/blob/master/tensornets/nasnets.py)\n\"\"\"\nfrom __future__ import print_function\nfrom __future__ import absolute_import\nfrom __future__ import division\n\nimport warnings\n\nfrom keras.models import Model\nfrom keras.layers import Input\nfrom keras.layers import Activation\nfrom keras.layers import Dense\nfrom keras.layers import Dropout\nfrom keras.layers import BatchNormalization\nfrom keras.layers import MaxPooling2D\nfrom keras.layers import AveragePooling2D\nfrom keras.layers import GlobalAveragePooling2D\nfrom keras.layers import GlobalMaxPooling2D\nfrom keras.layers import Conv2D\nfrom keras.layers import SeparableConv2D\nfrom keras.layers import ZeroPadding2D\nfrom keras.layers import Cropping2D\nfrom keras.layers import concatenate\nfrom keras.layers import add\nfrom keras.regularizers import l2\nfrom keras.utils.data_utils import get_file\nfrom keras.engine.topology import get_source_inputs\nfrom keras.applications.imagenet_utils import _obtain_input_shape\nfrom keras.applications.inception_v3 import preprocess_input\nfrom keras.applications.imagenet_utils import decode_predictions\nfrom keras import backend as K\n\n_BN_DECAY = 0.9997\n_BN_EPSILON = 1e-3\n\nNASNET_MOBILE_WEIGHT_PATH = (\n \"https://github.com/titu1994/Keras-NASNet/releases/download/v1.0/NASNet-mobile.h5\"\n)\nNASNET_MOBILE_WEIGHT_PATH_NO_TOP = \"https://github.com/titu1994/Keras-NASNet/releases/download/v1.0/NASNet-mobile-no-top.h5\"\nNASNET_MOBILE_WEIGHT_PATH_WITH_AUXULARY = \"https://github.com/titu1994/Keras-NASNet/releases/download/v1.0/NASNet-auxiliary-mobile.h5\"\nNASNET_MOBILE_WEIGHT_PATH_WITH_AUXULARY_NO_TOP = \"https://github.com/titu1994/Keras-NASNet/releases/download/v1.0/NASNet-auxiliary-mobile-no-top.h5\"\nNASNET_LARGE_WEIGHT_PATH = (\n \"https://github.com/titu1994/Keras-NASNet/releases/download/v1.1/NASNet-large.h5\"\n)\nNASNET_LARGE_WEIGHT_PATH_NO_TOP = \"https://github.com/titu1994/Keras-NASNet/releases/download/v1.1/NASNet-large-no-top.h5\"\nNASNET_LARGE_WEIGHT_PATH_WITH_auxiliary = \"https://github.com/titu1994/Keras-NASNet/releases/download/v1.1/NASNet-auxiliary-large.h5\"\nNASNET_LARGE_WEIGHT_PATH_WITH_auxiliary_NO_TOP = \"https://github.com/titu1994/Keras-NASNet/releases/download/v1.1/NASNet-auxiliary-large-no-top.h5\"\n\n\ndef NASNet(\n input_shape=None,\n penultimate_filters=4032,\n nb_blocks=6,\n stem_filters=96,\n skip_reduction=True,\n use_auxiliary_branch=False,\n filters_multiplier=2,\n dropout=0.5,\n weight_decay=5e-5,\n include_top=True,\n weights=None,\n input_tensor=None,\n pooling=None,\n classes=1000,\n default_size=None,\n):\n \"\"\"Instantiates a NASNet architecture.\n Note that only TensorFlow is supported for now,\n therefore it only works with the data format\n `image_data_format='channels_last'` in your Keras config\n at `~/.keras/keras.json`.\n\n # Arguments\n input_shape: optional shape tuple, only to be specified\n if `include_top` is False (otherwise the input shape\n has to be `(331, 331, 3)` for NASNetLarge or\n `(224, 224, 3)` for NASNetMobile\n It should have exactly 3 inputs channels,\n and width and height should be no smaller than 32.\n E.g. `(224, 224, 3)` would be one valid value.\n penultimate_filters: number of filters in the penultimate layer.\n NASNet models use the notation `NASNet (N @ P)`, where:\n - N is the number of blocks\n - P is the number of penultimate filters\n nb_blocks: number of repeated blocks of the NASNet model.\n NASNet models use the notation `NASNet (N @ P)`, where:\n - N is the number of blocks\n - P is the number of penultimate filters\n stem_filters: number of filters in the initial stem block\n skip_reduction: Whether to skip the reduction step at the tail\n end of the network. Set to `False` for CIFAR models.\n use_auxiliary_branch: Whether to use the auxiliary branch during\n training or evaluation.\n filters_multiplier: controls the width of the network.\n - If `filters_multiplier` < 1.0, proportionally decreases the number\n of filters in each layer.\n - If `filters_multiplier` > 1.0, proportionally increases the number\n of filters in each layer.\n - If `filters_multiplier` = 1, default number of filters from the paper\n are used at each layer.\n dropout: dropout rate\n weight_decay: l2 regularization weight\n include_top: whether to include the fully-connected\n layer at the top of the network.\n weights: `None` (random initialization) or\n `imagenet` (ImageNet weights)\n input_tensor: optional Keras tensor (i.e. output of\n `layers.Input()`)\n to use as image input for the model.\n pooling: Optional pooling mode for feature extraction\n when `include_top` is `False`.\n - `None` means that the output of the model\n will be the 4D tensor output of the\n last convolutional layer.\n - `avg` means that global average pooling\n will be applied to the output of the\n last convolutional layer, and thus\n the output of the model will be a\n 2D tensor.\n - `max` means that global max pooling will\n be applied.\n classes: optional number of classes to classify images\n into, only to be specified if `include_top` is True, and\n if no `weights` argument is specified.\n default_size: specifies the default image size of the model\n # Returns\n A Keras model instance.\n # Raises\n ValueError: in case of invalid argument for `weights`,\n or invalid input shape.\n RuntimeError: If attempting to run this model with a\n backend that does not support separable convolutions.\n \"\"\"\n if K.backend() != \"tensorflow\":\n raise RuntimeError(\n \"Only Tensorflow backend is currently supported, \"\n \"as other backends do not support \"\n \"separable convolution.\"\n )\n\n if weights not in {\"imagenet\", None}:\n raise ValueError(\n \"The `weights` argument should be either \"\n \"`None` (random initialization) or `imagenet` \"\n \"(pre-training on ImageNet).\"\n )\n\n if weights == \"imagenet\" and include_top and classes != 1000:\n raise ValueError(\n \"If using `weights` as ImageNet with `include_top` \"\n \"as true, `classes` should be 1000\"\n )\n\n if default_size is None:\n default_size = 331\n\n # Determine proper input shape and default size.\n input_shape = _obtain_input_shape(\n input_shape,\n default_size=default_size,\n min_size=32,\n data_format=K.image_data_format(),\n require_flatten=include_top,\n weights=weights,\n )\n\n if K.image_data_format() != \"channels_last\":\n warnings.warn(\n \"The NASNet family of models is only available \"\n 'for the input data format \"channels_last\" '\n \"(width, height, channels). \"\n \"However your settings specify the default \"\n 'data format \"channels_first\" (channels, width, height).'\n ' You should set `image_data_format=\"channels_last\"` '\n \"in your Keras config located at ~/.keras/keras.json. \"\n \"The model being returned right now will expect inputs \"\n 'to follow the \"channels_last\" data format.'\n )\n K.set_image_data_format(\"channels_last\")\n old_data_format = \"channels_first\"\n else:\n old_data_format = None\n\n if input_tensor is None:\n img_input = Input(shape=input_shape)\n else:\n if not K.is_keras_tensor(input_tensor):\n img_input = Input(tensor=input_tensor, shape=input_shape)\n else:\n img_input = input_tensor\n\n assert penultimate_filters % 24 == 0, (\n \"`penultimate_filters` needs to be divisible \" \"by 24.\"\n )\n\n channel_dim = 1 if K.image_data_format() == \"channels_first\" else -1\n filters = penultimate_filters // 24\n\n if not skip_reduction:\n x = Conv2D(\n stem_filters,\n (3, 3),\n strides=(2, 2),\n padding=\"valid\",\n use_bias=False,\n name=\"stem_conv1\",\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n )(img_input)\n else:\n x = Conv2D(\n stem_filters,\n (3, 3),\n strides=(1, 1),\n padding=\"same\",\n use_bias=False,\n name=\"stem_conv1\",\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n )(img_input)\n\n x = BatchNormalization(\n axis=channel_dim, momentum=_BN_DECAY, epsilon=_BN_EPSILON, name=\"stem_bn1\"\n )(x)\n\n p = None\n if not skip_reduction: # imagenet / mobile mode\n x, p = _reduction_A(\n x, p, filters // (filters_multiplier ** 2), weight_decay, id=\"stem_1\"\n )\n x, p = _reduction_A(\n x, p, filters // filters_multiplier, weight_decay, id=\"stem_2\"\n )\n\n for i in range(nb_blocks):\n x, p = _normal_A(x, p, filters, weight_decay, id=\"%d\" % (i))\n\n x, p0 = _reduction_A(\n x, p, filters * filters_multiplier, weight_decay, id=\"reduce_%d\" % (nb_blocks)\n )\n\n p = p0 if not skip_reduction else p\n\n for i in range(nb_blocks):\n x, p = _normal_A(\n x,\n p,\n filters * filters_multiplier,\n weight_decay,\n id=\"%d\" % (nb_blocks + i + 1),\n )\n\n auxiliary_x = None\n if not skip_reduction: # imagenet / mobile mode\n if use_auxiliary_branch:\n auxiliary_x = _add_auxiliary_head(x, classes, weight_decay)\n\n x, p0 = _reduction_A(\n x,\n p,\n filters * filters_multiplier ** 2,\n weight_decay,\n id=\"reduce_%d\" % (2 * nb_blocks),\n )\n\n if skip_reduction: # CIFAR mode\n if use_auxiliary_branch:\n auxiliary_x = _add_auxiliary_head(x, classes, weight_decay)\n\n p = p0 if not skip_reduction else p\n\n for i in range(nb_blocks):\n x, p = _normal_A(\n x,\n p,\n filters * filters_multiplier ** 2,\n weight_decay,\n id=\"%d\" % (2 * nb_blocks + i + 1),\n )\n\n x = Activation(\"relu\")(x)\n\n if include_top:\n x = GlobalAveragePooling2D()(x)\n x = Dropout(dropout)(x)\n x = Dense(\n classes,\n activation=\"softmax\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n name=\"predictions\",\n )(x)\n else:\n if pooling == \"avg\":\n x = GlobalAveragePooling2D()(x)\n elif pooling == \"max\":\n x = GlobalMaxPooling2D()(x)\n\n # Ensure that the model takes into account\n # any potential predecessors of `input_tensor`.\n if input_tensor is not None:\n inputs = get_source_inputs(input_tensor)\n else:\n inputs = img_input\n\n # Create model.\n if use_auxiliary_branch:\n model = Model(inputs, [x, auxiliary_x], name=\"NASNet_with_auxiliary\")\n else:\n model = Model(inputs, x, name=\"NASNet\")\n\n # load weights\n if weights == \"imagenet\":\n if default_size == 224: # mobile version\n if include_top:\n if use_auxiliary_branch:\n weight_path = NASNET_MOBILE_WEIGHT_PATH_WITH_AUXULARY\n model_name = \"nasnet_mobile_with_aux.h5\"\n else:\n weight_path = NASNET_MOBILE_WEIGHT_PATH\n model_name = \"nasnet_mobile.h5\"\n else:\n if use_auxiliary_branch:\n weight_path = NASNET_MOBILE_WEIGHT_PATH_WITH_AUXULARY_NO_TOP\n model_name = \"nasnet_mobile_with_aux_no_top.h5\"\n else:\n weight_path = NASNET_MOBILE_WEIGHT_PATH_NO_TOP\n model_name = \"nasnet_mobile_no_top.h5\"\n\n weights_file = get_file(model_name, weight_path, cache_subdir=\"models\")\n model.load_weights(weights_file, by_name=True)\n\n elif default_size == 331: # large version\n if include_top:\n if use_auxiliary_branch:\n weight_path = NASNET_LARGE_WEIGHT_PATH_WITH_auxiliary\n model_name = \"nasnet_large_with_aux.h5\"\n else:\n weight_path = NASNET_LARGE_WEIGHT_PATH\n model_name = \"nasnet_large.h5\"\n else:\n if use_auxiliary_branch:\n weight_path = NASNET_LARGE_WEIGHT_PATH_WITH_auxiliary_NO_TOP\n model_name = \"nasnet_large_with_aux_no_top.h5\"\n else:\n weight_path = NASNET_LARGE_WEIGHT_PATH_NO_TOP\n model_name = \"nasnet_large_no_top.h5\"\n\n weights_file = get_file(model_name, weight_path, cache_subdir=\"models\")\n model.load_weights(weights_file, by_name=True)\n\n else:\n raise ValueError(\n \"ImageNet weights can only be loaded on NASNetLarge or NASNetMobile\"\n )\n\n if old_data_format:\n K.set_image_data_format(old_data_format)\n\n return model\n\n\ndef NASNetLarge(\n input_shape=(331, 331, 3),\n dropout=0.5,\n weight_decay=5e-5,\n use_auxiliary_branch=False,\n include_top=True,\n weights=\"imagenet\",\n input_tensor=None,\n pooling=None,\n classes=1000,\n):\n \"\"\"Instantiates a NASNet architecture in ImageNet mode.\n Note that only TensorFlow is supported for now,\n therefore it only works with the data format\n `image_data_format='channels_last'` in your Keras config\n at `~/.keras/keras.json`.\n\n # Arguments\n input_shape: optional shape tuple, only to be specified\n if `include_top` is False (otherwise the input shape\n has to be `(331, 331, 3)` for NASNetLarge.\n It should have exactly 3 inputs channels,\n and width and height should be no smaller than 32.\n E.g. `(224, 224, 3)` would be one valid value.\n use_auxiliary_branch: Whether to use the auxiliary branch during\n training or evaluation.\n dropout: dropout rate\n weight_decay: l2 regularization weight\n include_top: whether to include the fully-connected\n layer at the top of the network.\n weights: `None` (random initialization) or\n `imagenet` (ImageNet weights)\n input_tensor: optional Keras tensor (i.e. output of\n `layers.Input()`)\n to use as image input for the model.\n pooling: Optional pooling mode for feature extraction\n when `include_top` is `False`.\n - `None` means that the output of the model\n will be the 4D tensor output of the\n last convolutional layer.\n - `avg` means that global average pooling\n will be applied to the output of the\n last convolutional layer, and thus\n the output of the model will be a\n 2D tensor.\n - `max` means that global max pooling will\n be applied.\n classes: optional number of classes to classify images\n into, only to be specified if `include_top` is True, and\n if no `weights` argument is specified.\n default_size: specifies the default image size of the model\n # Returns\n A Keras model instance.\n # Raises\n ValueError: in case of invalid argument for `weights`,\n or invalid input shape.\n RuntimeError: If attempting to run this model with a\n backend that does not support separable convolutions.\n \"\"\"\n global _BN_DECAY, _BN_EPSILON\n _BN_DECAY = 0.9997\n _BN_EPSILON = 1e-3\n\n return NASNet(\n input_shape,\n penultimate_filters=4032,\n nb_blocks=6,\n stem_filters=96,\n skip_reduction=False,\n use_auxiliary_branch=use_auxiliary_branch,\n filters_multiplier=2,\n dropout=dropout,\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n include_top=include_top,\n weights=weights,\n input_tensor=input_tensor,\n pooling=pooling,\n classes=classes,\n default_size=331,\n )\n\n\ndef NASNetMobile(\n input_shape=(224, 224, 3),\n dropout=0.5,\n weight_decay=4e-5,\n use_auxiliary_branch=False,\n include_top=True,\n weights=\"imagenet\",\n input_tensor=None,\n pooling=None,\n classes=1000,\n):\n \"\"\"Instantiates a NASNet architecture in Mobile ImageNet mode.\n Note that only TensorFlow is supported for now,\n therefore it only works with the data format\n `image_data_format='channels_last'` in your Keras config\n at `~/.keras/keras.json`.\n\n # Arguments\n input_shape: optional shape tuple, only to be specified\n if `include_top` is False (otherwise the input shape\n has to be `(224, 224, 3)` for NASNetMobile\n It should have exactly 3 inputs channels,\n and width and height should be no smaller than 32.\n E.g. `(224, 224, 3)` would be one valid value.\n use_auxiliary_branch: Whether to use the auxiliary branch during\n training or evaluation.\n dropout: dropout rate\n weight_decay: l2 regularization weight\n include_top: whether to include the fully-connected\n layer at the top of the network.\n weights: `None` (random initialization) or\n `imagenet` (ImageNet weights)\n input_tensor: optional Keras tensor (i.e. output of\n `layers.Input()`)\n to use as image input for the model.\n pooling: Optional pooling mode for feature extraction\n when `include_top` is `False`.\n - `None` means that the output of the model\n will be the 4D tensor output of the\n last convolutional layer.\n - `avg` means that global average pooling\n will be applied to the output of the\n last convolutional layer, and thus\n the output of the model will be a\n 2D tensor.\n - `max` means that global max pooling will\n be applied.\n classes: optional number of classes to classify images\n into, only to be specified if `include_top` is True, and\n if no `weights` argument is specified.\n default_size: specifies the default image size of the model\n # Returns\n A Keras model instance.\n # Raises\n ValueError: in case of invalid argument for `weights`,\n or invalid input shape.\n RuntimeError: If attempting to run this model with a\n backend that does not support separable convolutions.\n \"\"\"\n global _BN_DECAY, _BN_EPSILON\n _BN_DECAY = 0.9997\n _BN_EPSILON = 1e-3\n\n return NASNet(\n input_shape,\n penultimate_filters=1056,\n nb_blocks=4,\n stem_filters=32,\n skip_reduction=False,\n use_auxiliary_branch=use_auxiliary_branch,\n filters_multiplier=2,\n dropout=dropout,\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n include_top=include_top,\n weights=weights,\n input_tensor=input_tensor,\n pooling=pooling,\n classes=classes,\n default_size=224,\n )\n\n\ndef NASNetCIFAR(\n input_shape=(32, 32, 3),\n dropout=0.0,\n weight_decay=5e-4,\n use_auxiliary_branch=False,\n include_top=True,\n weights=None,\n input_tensor=None,\n pooling=None,\n classes=10,\n):\n \"\"\"Instantiates a NASNet architecture in CIFAR mode.\n Note that only TensorFlow is supported for now,\n therefore it only works with the data format\n `image_data_format='channels_last'` in your Keras config\n at `~/.keras/keras.json`.\n\n # Arguments\n input_shape: optional shape tuple, only to be specified\n if `include_top` is False (otherwise the input shape\n has to be `(32, 32, 3)` for NASNetMobile\n It should have exactly 3 inputs channels,\n and width and height should be no smaller than 32.\n E.g. `(32, 32, 3)` would be one valid value.\n use_auxiliary_branch: Whether to use the auxiliary branch during\n training or evaluation.\n dropout: dropout rate\n weight_decay: l2 regularization weight\n include_top: whether to include the fully-connected\n layer at the top of the network.\n weights: `None` (random initialization) or\n `imagenet` (ImageNet weights)\n input_tensor: optional Keras tensor (i.e. output of\n `layers.Input()`)\n to use as image input for the model.\n pooling: Optional pooling mode for feature extraction\n when `include_top` is `False`.\n - `None` means that the output of the model\n will be the 4D tensor output of the\n last convolutional layer.\n - `avg` means that global average pooling\n will be applied to the output of the\n last convolutional layer, and thus\n the output of the model will be a\n 2D tensor.\n - `max` means that global max pooling will\n be applied.\n classes: optional number of classes to classify images\n into, only to be specified if `include_top` is True, and\n if no `weights` argument is specified.\n default_size: specifies the default image size of the model\n # Returns\n A Keras model instance.\n # Raises\n ValueError: in case of invalid argument for `weights`,\n or invalid input shape.\n RuntimeError: If attempting to run this model with a\n backend that does not support separable convolutions.\n \"\"\"\n global _BN_DECAY, _BN_EPSILON\n _BN_DECAY = 0.9\n _BN_EPSILON = 1e-5\n\n return NASNet(\n input_shape,\n penultimate_filters=768,\n nb_blocks=6,\n stem_filters=32,\n skip_reduction=True,\n use_auxiliary_branch=use_auxiliary_branch,\n filters_multiplier=2,\n dropout=dropout,\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n include_top=include_top,\n weights=weights,\n input_tensor=input_tensor,\n pooling=pooling,\n classes=classes,\n default_size=224,\n )\n\n\ndef _separable_conv_block(\n ip, filters, kernel_size=(3, 3), strides=(1, 1), weight_decay=5e-5, id=None\n):\n \"\"\"Adds 2 blocks of [relu-separable conv-batchnorm]\n\n # Arguments:\n ip: input tensor\n filters: number of output filters per layer\n kernel_size: kernel size of separable convolutions\n strides: strided convolution for downsampling\n weight_decay: l2 regularization weight\n id: string id\n\n # Returns:\n a Keras tensor\n \"\"\"\n channel_dim = 1 if K.image_data_format() == \"channels_first\" else -1\n\n with K.name_scope(\"separable_conv_block_%s\" % id):\n x = Activation(\"relu\")(ip)\n x = SeparableConv2D(\n filters,\n kernel_size,\n strides=strides,\n name=\"separable_conv_1_%s\" % id,\n padding=\"same\",\n use_bias=False,\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n )(x)\n x = BatchNormalization(\n axis=channel_dim,\n momentum=_BN_DECAY,\n epsilon=_BN_EPSILON,\n name=\"separable_conv_1_bn_%s\" % (id),\n )(x)\n x = Activation(\"relu\")(x)\n x = SeparableConv2D(\n filters,\n kernel_size,\n name=\"separable_conv_2_%s\" % id,\n padding=\"same\",\n use_bias=False,\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n )(x)\n x = BatchNormalization(\n axis=channel_dim,\n momentum=_BN_DECAY,\n epsilon=_BN_EPSILON,\n name=\"separable_conv_2_bn_%s\" % (id),\n )(x)\n return x\n\n\ndef _adjust_block(p, ip, filters, weight_decay=5e-5, id=None):\n \"\"\"\n Adjusts the input `p` to match the shape of the `input`\n or situations where the output number of filters needs to\n be changed\n\n # Arguments:\n p: input tensor which needs to be modified\n ip: input tensor whose shape needs to be matched\n filters: number of output filters to be matched\n weight_decay: l2 regularization weight\n id: string id\n\n # Returns:\n an adjusted Keras tensor\n \"\"\"\n channel_dim = 1 if K.image_data_format() == \"channels_first\" else -1\n img_dim = 2 if K.image_data_format() == \"channels_first\" else -2\n\n with K.name_scope(\"adjust_block\"):\n if p is None:\n p = ip\n\n elif p._keras_shape[img_dim] != ip._keras_shape[img_dim]:\n with K.name_scope(\"adjust_reduction_block_%s\" % id):\n p = Activation(\"relu\", name=\"adjust_relu_1_%s\" % id)(p)\n\n p1 = AveragePooling2D(\n (1, 1),\n strides=(2, 2),\n padding=\"valid\",\n name=\"adjust_avg_pool_1_%s\" % id,\n )(p)\n p1 = Conv2D(\n filters // 2,\n (1, 1),\n padding=\"same\",\n use_bias=False,\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n name=\"adjust_conv_1_%s\" % id,\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n )(p1)\n\n p2 = ZeroPadding2D(padding=((0, 1), (0, 1)))(p)\n p2 = Cropping2D(cropping=((1, 0), (1, 0)))(p2)\n p2 = AveragePooling2D(\n (1, 1),\n strides=(2, 2),\n padding=\"valid\",\n name=\"adjust_avg_pool_2_%s\" % id,\n )(p2)\n p2 = Conv2D(\n filters // 2,\n (1, 1),\n padding=\"same\",\n use_bias=False,\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n name=\"adjust_conv_2_%s\" % id,\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n )(p2)\n\n p = concatenate([p1, p2], axis=channel_dim)\n p = BatchNormalization(\n axis=channel_dim,\n momentum=_BN_DECAY,\n epsilon=_BN_EPSILON,\n name=\"adjust_bn_%s\" % id,\n )(p)\n\n elif p._keras_shape[channel_dim] != filters:\n with K.name_scope(\"adjust_projection_block_%s\" % id):\n p = Activation(\"relu\")(p)\n p = Conv2D(\n filters,\n (1, 1),\n strides=(1, 1),\n padding=\"same\",\n name=\"adjust_conv_projection_%s\" % id,\n use_bias=False,\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n )(p)\n p = BatchNormalization(\n axis=channel_dim,\n momentum=_BN_DECAY,\n epsilon=_BN_EPSILON,\n name=\"adjust_bn_%s\" % id,\n )(p)\n return p\n\n\ndef _normal_A(ip, p, filters, weight_decay=5e-5, id=None):\n \"\"\"Adds a Normal cell for NASNet-A (Fig. 4 in the paper)\n\n # Arguments:\n ip: input tensor `x`\n p: input tensor `p`\n filters: number of output filters\n weight_decay: l2 regularization weight\n id: string id\n\n # Returns:\n a Keras tensor\n \"\"\"\n channel_dim = 1 if K.image_data_format() == \"channels_first\" else -1\n\n with K.name_scope(\"normal_A_block_%s\" % id):\n p = _adjust_block(p, ip, filters, weight_decay, id)\n\n h = Activation(\"relu\")(ip)\n h = Conv2D(\n filters,\n (1, 1),\n strides=(1, 1),\n padding=\"same\",\n name=\"normal_conv_1_%s\" % id,\n use_bias=False,\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n )(h)\n h = BatchNormalization(\n axis=channel_dim,\n momentum=_BN_DECAY,\n epsilon=_BN_EPSILON,\n name=\"normal_bn_1_%s\" % id,\n )(h)\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_1\"):\n x1_1 = _separable_conv_block(\n h,\n filters,\n kernel_size=(5, 5),\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n id=\"normal_left1_%s\" % id,\n )\n x1_2 = _separable_conv_block(\n p, filters, weight_decay=weight_decay, id=\"normal_right1_%s\" % id\n )\n x1 = add([x1_1, x1_2], name=\"normal_add_1_%s\" % id)\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_2\"):\n x2_1 = _separable_conv_block(\n p, filters, (5, 5), weight_decay=weight_decay, id=\"normal_left2_%s\" % id\n )\n x2_2 = _separable_conv_block(\n p,\n filters,\n (3, 3),\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n id=\"normal_right2_%s\" % id,\n )\n x2 = add([x2_1, x2_2], name=\"normal_add_2_%s\" % id)\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_3\"):\n x3 = AveragePooling2D(\n (3, 3), strides=(1, 1), padding=\"same\", name=\"normal_left3_%s\" % (id)\n )(h)\n x3 = add([x3, p], name=\"normal_add_3_%s\" % id)\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_4\"):\n x4_1 = AveragePooling2D(\n (3, 3), strides=(1, 1), padding=\"same\", name=\"normal_left4_%s\" % (id)\n )(p)\n x4_2 = AveragePooling2D(\n (3, 3), strides=(1, 1), padding=\"same\", name=\"normal_right4_%s\" % (id)\n )(p)\n x4 = add([x4_1, x4_2], name=\"normal_add_4_%s\" % id)\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_5\"):\n x5 = _separable_conv_block(\n h, filters, weight_decay=weight_decay, id=\"normal_left5_%s\" % id\n )\n x5 = add([x5, h], name=\"normal_add_5_%s\" % id)\n\n x = concatenate(\n [p, x1, x2, x3, x4, x5], axis=channel_dim, name=\"normal_concat_%s\" % id\n )\n return x, ip\n\n\ndef _reduction_A(ip, p, filters, weight_decay=5e-5, id=None):\n \"\"\"Adds a Reduction cell for NASNet-A (Fig. 4 in the paper)\n\n # Arguments:\n ip: input tensor `x`\n p: input tensor `p`\n filters: number of output filters\n weight_decay: l2 regularization weight\n id: string id\n\n # Returns:\n a Keras tensor\n \"\"\"\n \"\"\"\"\"\"\n channel_dim = 1 if K.image_data_format() == \"channels_first\" else -1\n\n with K.name_scope(\"reduction_A_block_%s\" % id):\n p = _adjust_block(p, ip, filters, weight_decay, id)\n\n h = Activation(\"relu\")(ip)\n h = Conv2D(\n filters,\n (1, 1),\n strides=(1, 1),\n padding=\"same\",\n name=\"reduction_conv_1_%s\" % id,\n use_bias=False,\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n )(h)\n h = BatchNormalization(\n axis=channel_dim,\n momentum=_BN_DECAY,\n epsilon=_BN_EPSILON,\n name=\"reduction_bn_1_%s\" % id,\n )(h)\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_1\"):\n x1_1 = _separable_conv_block(\n h,\n filters,\n (5, 5),\n strides=(2, 2),\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n id=\"reduction_left1_%s\" % id,\n )\n x1_2 = _separable_conv_block(\n p,\n filters,\n (7, 7),\n strides=(2, 2),\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n id=\"reduction_1_%s\" % id,\n )\n x1 = add([x1_1, x1_2], name=\"reduction_add_1_%s\" % id)\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_2\"):\n x2_1 = MaxPooling2D(\n (3, 3), strides=(2, 2), padding=\"same\", name=\"reduction_left2_%s\" % id\n )(h)\n x2_2 = _separable_conv_block(\n p,\n filters,\n (7, 7),\n strides=(2, 2),\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n id=\"reduction_right2_%s\" % id,\n )\n x2 = add([x2_1, x2_2], name=\"reduction_add_2_%s\" % id)\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_3\"):\n x3_1 = AveragePooling2D(\n (3, 3), strides=(2, 2), padding=\"same\", name=\"reduction_left3_%s\" % id\n )(h)\n x3_2 = _separable_conv_block(\n p,\n filters,\n (5, 5),\n strides=(2, 2),\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n id=\"reduction_right3_%s\" % id,\n )\n x3 = add([x3_1, x3_2], name=\"reduction_add3_%s\" % id)\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_4\"):\n x4 = AveragePooling2D(\n (3, 3), strides=(1, 1), padding=\"same\", name=\"reduction_left4_%s\" % id\n )(x1)\n x4 = add([x2, x4])\n\n with K.name_scope(\"block_5\"):\n x5_1 = _separable_conv_block(\n x1,\n filters,\n (3, 3),\n weight_decay=weight_decay,\n id=\"reduction_left4_%s\" % id,\n )\n x5_2 = MaxPooling2D(\n (3, 3), strides=(2, 2), padding=\"same\", name=\"reduction_right5_%s\" % id\n )(h)\n x5 = add([x5_1, x5_2], name=\"reduction_add4_%s\" % id)\n\n x = concatenate(\n [x2, x3, x4, x5], axis=channel_dim, name=\"reduction_concat_%s\" % id\n )\n return x, ip\n\n\ndef _add_auxiliary_head(x, classes, weight_decay):\n \"\"\"Adds an auxiliary head for training the model\n\n From section A.7 \"Training of ImageNet models\" of the paper, all NASNet models are\n trained using an auxiliary classifier around 2/3 of the depth of the network, with\n a loss weight of 0.4\n\n # Arguments\n x: input tensor\n classes: number of output classes\n weight_decay: l2 regularization weight\n\n # Returns\n a keras Tensor\n \"\"\"\n img_height = 1 if K.image_data_format() == \"channels_last\" else 2\n img_width = 2 if K.image_data_format() == \"channels_last\" else 3\n channel_axis = 1 if K.image_data_format() == \"channels_first\" else -1\n\n with K.name_scope(\"auxiliary_branch\"):\n auxiliary_x = Activation(\"relu\")(x)\n auxiliary_x = AveragePooling2D(\n (5, 5), strides=(3, 3), padding=\"valid\", name=\"aux_pool\"\n )(auxiliary_x)\n auxiliary_x = Conv2D(\n 128,\n (1, 1),\n padding=\"same\",\n use_bias=False,\n name=\"aux_conv_projection\",\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n )(auxiliary_x)\n auxiliary_x = BatchNormalization(\n axis=channel_axis,\n momentum=_BN_DECAY,\n epsilon=_BN_EPSILON,\n name=\"aux_bn_projection\",\n )(auxiliary_x)\n auxiliary_x = Activation(\"relu\")(auxiliary_x)\n\n auxiliary_x = Conv2D(\n 768,\n (auxiliary_x._keras_shape[img_height], auxiliary_x._keras_shape[img_width]),\n padding=\"valid\",\n use_bias=False,\n kernel_initializer=\"he_normal\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n name=\"aux_conv_reduction\",\n )(auxiliary_x)\n auxiliary_x = BatchNormalization(\n axis=channel_axis,\n momentum=_BN_DECAY,\n epsilon=_BN_EPSILON,\n name=\"aux_bn_reduction\",\n )(auxiliary_x)\n auxiliary_x = Activation(\"relu\")(auxiliary_x)\n\n auxiliary_x = GlobalAveragePooling2D()(auxiliary_x)\n auxiliary_x = Dense(\n classes,\n activation=\"softmax\",\n kernel_regularizer=l2(weight_decay),\n name=\"aux_predictions\",\n )(auxiliary_x)\n return auxiliary_x\n\n\nif __name__ == \"__main__\":\n import tensorflow as tf\n\n sess = tf.Session()\n\n K.set_session(sess)\n\n model = NASNetLarge((331, 331, 3))\n model.summary()\n\n writer = tf.summary.FileWriter(\"./logs/\", graph=K.get_session().graph)\n writer.close()\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/image feat. extraction/neural-image-assessment/utils/score_utils.py",
"content": "import numpy as np\n\n# calculate mean score for AVA dataset\ndef mean_score(scores):\n si = np.arange(1, 11, 1)\n mean = np.sum(q * si, axis=1)\n return mean\n\n\n# calculate standard deviation of scores for AVA dataset\ndef std_score(scores):\n si = np.arange(1, 11, 1)\n mean = mean_score(scores)\n std = np.sqrt(np.sum(((si - mean) ** 2) * scores))\n return std\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/image feat. extraction/nn_image_features.py",
"content": "# @kmike `s code\n\n# image feature extractions\n\nimport numpy as np\nimport pandas as pd\nimport os\nfrom tqdm import tqdm\nimport traceback\nfrom functools import partial\n\n\nos.environ[\"CUDA_VISIBLE_DEVICES\"] = \"0\"\n# 3 CPU\n# 2 1060\n# 0 1080Ti\nimport tensorflow as tf\nfrom keras.backend.tensorflow_backend import set_session\n\nconfig = tf.ConfigProto()\nconfig.gpu_options.allow_growth = True\nset_session(tf.Session(config=config))\n\nfrom keras.preprocessing import image\nfrom keras.applications import (\n vgg16,\n vgg19,\n resnet50,\n inception_v3,\n inception_resnet_v2,\n xception,\n mobilenet,\n densenet,\n)\n\nimport config as cfg\nimport utils\n\n\n@hdd_memory.cache\ndef get_names_paths(images_dir):\n img_names = sorted(os.listdir(images_dir))\n img_paths = [os.path.join(images_dir, name) for name in img_names]\n img_names = [name.split(\".\", 1)[0] for name in img_names]\n\n return img_paths, img_names\n\n\ndef img_generator(\n img_paths, img_names, target_size, preprocess_func=None, batch_size=128\n):\n pos = 0\n preprocess_func = preprocess_func or (lambda arg: arg)\n\n while True:\n try:\n names_batch = img_names[pos : pos + batch_size]\n path_batch = img_paths[pos : pos + batch_size]\n x = [\n image.img_to_array(image.load_img(path, target_size=target_size))\n for path in path_batch\n ]\n x = np.array(x)\n x = preprocess_func(x)\n\n yield pos, x, names_batch\n\n except Exception:\n traceback.print_exc()\n\n finally:\n pos += batch_size\n if pos >= len(img_paths):\n break\n\n\ndef get_model_and_data(mode, model_name):\n if model_name == \"vgg16\":\n model = vgg16.VGG16(weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True)\n preprocess_func = partial(vgg16.preprocess_input, mode=\"tf\")\n target_size = (224, 224)\n\n elif model_name == \"vgg19\":\n model = vgg19.VGG19(weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True)\n preprocess_func = partial(vgg19.preprocess_input, mode=\"tf\")\n target_size = (224, 224)\n\n elif model_name == \"resnet50\":\n model = resnet50.ResNet50(weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True)\n preprocess_func = partial(resnet50.preprocess_input, mode=\"tf\")\n target_size = (224, 224)\n\n elif model_name == \"inception_v3\":\n model = inception_v3.InceptionV3(weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True)\n preprocess_func = inception_v3.preprocess_input\n target_size = (299, 299)\n\n elif model_name == \"inception_resnet_v2\":\n model = inception_resnet_v2.InceptionResNetV2(\n weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True\n )\n preprocess_func = inception_resnet_v2.preprocess_input\n target_size = (299, 299)\n\n elif model_name == \"xception\":\n model = xception.Xception(weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True)\n preprocess_func = xception.preprocess_input\n target_size = (299, 299)\n\n elif model_name == \"mobilenet\":\n model = mobilenet.MobileNet(weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True)\n preprocess_func = mobilenet.preprocess_input\n target_size = (224, 224)\n\n elif model_name.startswith(\"densenet\"):\n model_type = int(model_name[len(\"densenet\") :])\n\n if model_type == 121:\n model = densenet.DenseNet121(weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True)\n elif model_type == 169:\n model = densenet.DenseNet169(weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True)\n elif model_type == 201:\n model = densenet.DenseNet201(weights=\"imagenet\", include_top=True)\n else:\n raise ValueError(f\"Got incorrect DenseNet model type ({model_type}).\")\n\n preprocess_func = densenet.preprocess_input\n target_size = (224, 224)\n\n else:\n raise ValueError(f\"Got unknown NN model ({model_name}).\")\n\n if mode == \"train\":\n input_dir = cfg.TRAIN_IMAGES_DIR\n\n elif mode == \"test\":\n input_dir = cfg.TEST_IMAGES_DIR\n else:\n raise ValueError(f\"Got unknown proc mode ({mode}).\")\n\n output_file = cfg.NN_IMAGE_FEATURES[model_name][mode][\"memmap\"]\n\n return model, input_dir, output_file, preprocess_func, target_size\n\n\ndef extract_features(model_name=\"vgg16\", batch_size=64):\n def proc_dataset(mode):\n # create appropriate model and in/out data paths\n model, input_dir, output_file, preprocess_func, target_size = get_model_and_data(\n mode, model_name\n )\n\n # run image features extraction\n img_paths, img_names = get_names_paths(input_dir)\n\n gen = img_generator(\n img_paths,\n img_names,\n target_size,\n preprocess_func=preprocess_func,\n batch_size=batch_size,\n )\n\n features = np.memmap(\n output_file, dtype=\"float32\", mode=\"w+\", shape=(len(img_paths), 1000)\n )\n\n for pos, x_test, names in tqdm(gen, total=len(img_paths) // batch_size + 1):\n features[pos : pos + batch_size, :] = model.predict(x_test)\n features.flush()\n\n del features\n\n proc_dataset(\"train\")\n proc_dataset(\"test\")\n\n\ndef create_features_df(model_name=\"vgg16\", mode=\"train\"):\n if mode == \"train\":\n images_dir_path = cfg.TRAIN_IMAGES_DIR\n elif mode == \"test\":\n images_dir_path = cfg.TEST_IMAGES_DIR\n else:\n raise ValueError(f\"Got unknown proc mode ({mode}).\")\n\n features_file = cfg.NN_IMAGE_FEATURES[model_name][mode][\"memmap\"]\n df_file = cfg.NN_IMAGE_FEATURES[model_name][mode][\"df\"]\n\n df = pd.DataFrame()\n img_paths, img_names = get_names_paths(images_dir_path)\n df[\"image\"] = img_names\n\n features = np.memmap(\n features_file, dtype=\"float32\", mode=\"r\", shape=(df.shape[0], 1000)\n )\n for idx in tqdm(range(1000)):\n df[f\"{model_name}_{idx}\"] = features[:, idx]\n\n df.to_pickle(df_file, compression=\"gzip\")\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/stem to SVD.py",
"content": "#Thanks for the approach https://github.com/ML-Person/My-solution-to-Avito-Challenge-2018 (@nikita)\nimport pandas as pd\nimport numpy as np\nimport gc\nimport os\nimport re\nimport pickle\nimport string\n\nfrom sklearn.model_selection import train_test_split\nfrom sklearn.metrics import mean_squared_error\nfrom sklearn.preprocessing import LabelEncoder\nfrom sklearn.feature_extraction.text import CountVectorizer, TfidfVectorizer\nfrom scipy.sparse import hstack, csr_matrix\nimport lightgbm as lgb\n\n# for text data\nfrom nltk.stem.snowball import SnowballStemmer\nfrom nltk.corpus import stopwords\nfrom sklearn.decomposition import TruncatedSVD\n\nimport matplotlib.pyplot as plt\nimport seaborn as sns\nsns.set()\n%matplotlib inline\npd.set_option('max_columns', 84)\nimport warnings\nwarnings.filterwarnings('ignore')\n\nPATH_TO_DATA = '/Avito'\n\n\n\ntraintrain == pdpd..read_csvread_cs (os.path.join(PATH_TO_DATA, 'train.csv'))\ntest = pd.read_csv(os.path.join(PATH_TO_DATA, 'test.csv'))\n\n'''\nitem_id - Ad id.\nuser_id - User id.\nregion - Ad region.\ncity - Ad city.\nparent_category_name - Top level ad category as classified by Avito's ad model.\ncategory_name - Fine grain ad category as classified by Avito's ad model.\nparam_1 - Optional parameter from Avito's ad model.\nparam_2 - Optional parameter from Avito's ad model.\nparam_3 - Optional parameter from Avito's ad model.\ntitle - Ad title.\ndescription - Ad description.\nprice - Ad price.\nitem_seq_number - Ad sequential number for user.\nactivation_date - Date ad was placed.\nuser_type - User type.\nimage - Id code of image. Ties to a jpg file in train_jpg. Not every ad has an image.\nimage_top_1 - Avito's classification code for the image.\ndeal_probability - The target variable. This is the likelihood that an ad actually sold something. It's not possible to verify every transaction with certainty, so this column's value can be any float from zero to one.\n'''\ncategorical = [\n 'image_top_1', 'param_1', 'param_2', 'param_3', \n 'city', 'region', 'category_name', 'parent_category_name', 'user_type'\n]\n\n# easy preprocessing\ntext_cols = [\n 'title', 'description', 'param_1', 'param_2', 'param_3',\n 'city', 'region', 'category_name', 'parent_category_name'\n]\nfor col in text_cols:\n for df in [train, test]:\n df[col] = df[col].str.replace(r\"[^А-Яа-яA-Za-z0-9,!?@\\'\\`\\\"\\_\\n]\", ' ')\n df[col].fillna(\"NA\", inplace=True)\n df[col] = df[col].str.lower()\n\n\nforfor dfdf inin [[traintrain,, testtest]:]:\n dfdf[['len_description''len_de ] = df['description'].apply(lambda x: len(str(x)))\n df['num_desc_punct'] = df['description'].apply(lambda x: len([c for c in str(x) if c in string.punctuation])) / df['len_description']\n \n for col in ['description', 'title']:\n df['num_words_' + col] = df[col].apply(lambda comment: len(comment.split()))\n df['num_unique_words_' + col] = df[col].apply(lambda comment: len(set(w for w in comment.split())))\n\n # percentage of unique words\n df['words_vs_unique_title'] = df['num_unique_words_title'] / df['num_words_title'] * 100\n df['words_vs_unique_description'] = df['num_unique_words_description'] / df['num_words_description'] * 100\n \n\n# [DUMP] TRAIN + TEST# [DUMP] \ntrain.to_csv(os.path.join(PATH_TO_DATA, 'train_all_features.csv'), index=False, encoding='utf-8')\ntest.to_csv(os.path.join(PATH_TO_DATA, 'test_all_features.csv'), index=False, encoding='utf-8')\n\ndel train, test\ngc.collect()\n\ntrain = pd.read_csv(os.path.join(PATH_TO_DATA, 'train.csv'))\ntest = pd.read_csv(os.path.join(PATH_TO_DATA, 'test.csv\n\n\nstemmer = SnowballStemmer(\"russian\", ignore_stopwords=False)\n\ntrain['title_stemm'] = train['title'].apply(lambda string: ' '.join([stemmer.stem(w) for w in string.split()]))\ntest['title_stemm'] = test['title'].apply(lambda string: ' '.join([stemmer.stem(w) for w in string.split()]))\ntrain['description_stemm'] = train['description'].apply(lambda string: ' '.join([stemmer.stem(w) for w in string.split()]))\ntest['description_stemm'] = test['description'].apply(lambda string: ' '.join([stemmer.stem(w) for w in string.split()]))\n\n\ntrain['text'] = train['param_1'] + \" \" + train['param_2'] + \" \" + train['param_3'] + \" \" + \\\n train['city'] + \" \" + train['category_name'] + \" \" + train['parent_category_name']\ntest['text'] = test['param_1'] + \" \" + test['param_2'] + \" \" + test['param_3'] + \" \" + \\\n test['city'] + \" \" + test['category_name'] + \" \" + test['parent_category_name']\n\ntrain['text_stemm'] = train['text'].apply(lambda string: ' '.join([stemmer.stem(w) for w in string.split()]))\ntest['text_stemm'] = test['text'].apply(lambda string: ' '.join([stemmer.stem(w) for w in string.split()]))\n\n\nfor df in [train, test]:\n df.drop(['title', 'description', 'text'], axis=1, inplace=True)\n\n\n#TF-IDF + SVD \n\n# CountVectorizer for 'title'\ntitle_tfidf = CountVectorizer(stop_words=stopwords.words('russian'), lowercase=True,\n token_pattern=r'\\w{1,}', ngram_range=(1, 1))\n\nfull_tfidf = title_tfidf.fit_transform(train['title_stemm'].values.tolist() + test['title_stemm'].values.tolist())\ntrain_title_tfidf = title_tfidf.transform(train['title_stemm'].values.tolist())\ntest_title_tfidf = title_tfidf.transform(test['title_stemm'].values.tolist())\n\n### SVD Components ###\nn_comp = 10\nsvd_obj = TruncatedSVD(n_components=n_comp, algorithm='arpack')\nsvd_obj.fit(full_tfidf)\ntrain_svd = pd.DataFrame(svd_obj.transform(train_title_tfidf))\ntest_svd = pd.DataFrame(svd_obj.transform(test_title_tfidf))\ntrain_svd.columns = ['svd_title_'+str(i+1) for i in range(n_comp)]\ntest_svd.columns = ['svd_title_'+str(i+1) for i in range(n_comp)]\ntrain_svd['item_id'] = train['item_id']\ntest_svd['item_id'] = test['item_id']\n\n# Merge and delete\ntrain = train.merge(train_svd, on='item_id', how='left')\ntest = test.merge(test_svd, on='item_id', how='left')\ndel full_tfidf, train_svd, test_svd\ngc.collect()\n\n\n# TF-IDF for 'description'\ndesc_tfidf = TfidfVectorizer(stop_words=stopwords.words('russian'), token_pattern=r'\\w{1,}',\n lowercase=True, ngram_range=(1, 2), norm='l2', smooth_idf=False,\n max_features=17000)\nfull_tfidf = desc_tfidf.fit_transform(train['description_stemm'].values.tolist() + test['description_stemm'].values.tolist())\ntrain_desc_tfidf = desc_tfidf.transform(train['description_stemm'].values.tolist())\ntest_desc_tfidf = desc_tfidf.transform(test['description_stemm'].values.tolist())\n\n### SVD Components ###\nn_comp = 10\nsvd_obj = TruncatedSVD(n_components=n_comp, algorithm='arpack')\nsvd_obj.fit(full_tfidf)\ntrain_svd = pd.DataFrame(svd_obj.transform(train_desc_tfidf))\ntest_svd = pd.DataFrame(svd_obj.transform(test_desc_tfidf))\ntrain_svd.columns = ['svd_description_'+str(i+1) for i in range(n_comp)]\ntest_svd.columns = ['svd_description_'+str(i+1) for i in range(n_comp)]\ntrain_svd['item_id'] = train['item_id']\ntest_svd['item_id'] = test['item_id']\n\n# Merge and delete\ntrain = train.merge(train_svd, on='item_id', how='left')\ntest = test.merge(test_svd, on='item_id', how='left')\ndel full_tfidf, train_svd, test_svd\ngc.collect()\n\n\n# [STACKING]# [STACK \ntrain_tfidf = csr_matrix(hstack([train_title_tfidf, train_desc_tfidf, train_text_tfidf])) \ntest_tfidf = csr_matrix(hstack([test_title_tfidf, test_desc_tfidf, test_text_tfidf]))\n\ndel train_title_tfidf, train_desc_tfidf, train_text_tfidf\ndel test_title_tfidf, test_desc_tfidf, test_text_tfidf\ngc.collect()\n\nvocab = np.hstack([\n title_tfidf.get_feature_names(),\n desc_tfidf.get_feature_names(),\n text_tfidf.get_feature_names()\n])\n\n [DUMP] TF-IDF pickle files + vocabulary\nwith open(os.path.join(PATH_TO_DATA, 'train_tfidf.pkl'), 'wb') as train_tfidf_pkl:\n pickle.dump(train_tfidf, train_tfidf_pkl, protocol=2)\nwith open(os.path.join(PATH_TO_DATA, 'test_tfidf.pkl'), 'wb') as test_tfidf_pkl:\n pickle.dump(test_tfidf, test_tfidf_pkl, protocol=2)\nwith open(os.path.join(PATH_TO_DATA, 'vocab.pkl'), 'wb') as vocab_pkl:\n pickle.dump(vocab, vocab_pkl, protocol=2)\n\ndel train, train_tfidf, test, test_tfidf, vocab\ngc.collect()\n\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/Kaggle Avito Demand Prediction Challenge/text embeddings.py",
"content": "# @Kmike `s code\n# https://github.com/deepmipt/DeepPavlov/blob/a59703de60deda349fc39918a1fc1b242638b7f7/pretrained-vectors.md\n\nfrom tqdm import tqdm\nimport numpy as np # linear algebra\nimport pandas as pd\n\n# read embeding\ndef embeding_reading(path):\n embeddings_index = {}\n f = open(path)\n for line in f:\n values = line.split(\" \")[:-1]\n word = values[0]\n coefs = np.asarray(values[1:], dtype=\"float32\")\n embeddings_index[word] = coefs\n f.close()\n\n return embeddings_index\n\n\ndef text2features(embeddings_index, text):\n vec_stack = []\n for w in nltk.word_tokenize(text.lower()):\n v = embeddings_index.get(w, None)\n if v is not None:\n vec_stack.append(v)\n\n if len(vec_stack) != 0:\n v_mean = np.mean(vec_stack, axis=0)\n else:\n v_mean = np.zeros(300)\n\n return v_mean\n\n\ndef df_to_embed_features(df, column, embeddings_index):\n embed_size = 300\n X = np.zeros((df.shape[0], embed_size), dtype=\"float32\")\n\n for i, text in tqdm(enumerate(df[column])):\n X[i] = text2features(embeddings_index, text)\n\n return X\n\n\npath = \"/mnt/nvme/jupyter/avito/embeding/ft_native_300_ru_wiki_lenta_lower_case.vec\"\nembeddings_index = embeding_reading(path)\nX = df_to_embed_features(test_df, column=\"title\", embeddings_index=embeddings_index)\n\n\n# 2nd aproach @artgor aproach\ndef load_emb(embedding_path, tokenizer, max_features, default=False, embed_size=300):\n \"\"\"Load embeddings.\"\"\"\n\n fasttext_model = FastText.load(embedding_path)\n word_index = tokenizer.word_index\n\n # my pretrained embeddings have different index, so need to add offset.\n if default:\n nb_words = min(max_features, len(word_index))\n else:\n nb_words = min(max_features, len(word_index)) + 2\n\n embedding_matrix = np.zeros((nb_words, embed_size))\n\n for word, i in word_index.items():\n if i >= max_features:\n continue\n try:\n embedding_vector = fasttext_model[word]\n except KeyError:\n embedding_vector = None\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[i] = embedding_vector\n\n return embedding_matrix\n\n\nembedding_matrix = nn_functions.load_emb(\n \"f:/Avito/embeddings/avito_big_150m_sg1.w2v\", tokenizer, max_features, embed_size\n)\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/NLP/Kaggle Quora Insincere Questions Classification/3rd-place.py",
"content": "from __future__ import absolute_import, division\n\nimport os\nimport time\nimport numpy as np\nimport pandas as pd\nimport gensim\nfrom tqdm import tqdm\nfrom nltk.stem import PorterStemmer\n\nps = PorterStemmer()\nfrom nltk.stem.lancaster import LancasterStemmer\n\nlc = LancasterStemmer()\nfrom nltk.stem import SnowballStemmer\n\nsb = SnowballStemmer(\"english\")\nimport gc\n\nfrom keras.preprocessing.text import Tokenizer\nfrom keras.preprocessing.sequence import pad_sequences\nfrom keras.layers import (\n Dense,\n Input,\n CuDNNLSTM,\n Embedding,\n Dropout,\n Activation,\n CuDNNGRU,\n Conv1D,\n)\nfrom keras.layers import (\n Bidirectional,\n GlobalMaxPool1D,\n GlobalMaxPooling1D,\n GlobalAveragePooling1D,\n)\nfrom keras.layers import Input, Embedding, Dense, Conv2D, MaxPool2D, concatenate\nfrom keras.layers import Reshape, Flatten, Concatenate, Dropout, SpatialDropout1D\nfrom keras.optimizers import Adam\nfrom keras.models import Model\nfrom keras import backend as K\nfrom keras.engine.topology import Layer\nfrom keras import initializers, regularizers, constraints, optimizers, layers\n\nimport sys\nfrom os.path import dirname\n\n# sys.path.append(dirname(dirname(__file__)))\nfrom keras import initializers\nfrom keras.engine import InputSpec, Layer\nfrom keras import backend as K\n\nimport spacy\n\n# https://github.com/bfelbo/DeepMoji/blob/master/deepmoji/attlayer.py\nclass AttentionWeightedAverage(Layer):\n \"\"\"\n Computes a weighted average of the different channels across timesteps.\n Uses 1 parameter pr. channel to compute the attention value for a single timestep.\n \"\"\"\n\n def __init__(self, return_attention=False, **kwargs):\n self.init = initializers.get(\"uniform\")\n self.supports_masking = True\n self.return_attention = return_attention\n super(AttentionWeightedAverage, self).__init__(**kwargs)\n\n def build(self, input_shape):\n self.input_spec = [InputSpec(ndim=3)]\n assert len(input_shape) == 3\n\n self.W = self.add_weight(\n shape=(input_shape[2], 1),\n name=\"{}_W\".format(self.name),\n initializer=self.init,\n )\n self.trainable_weights = [self.W]\n super(AttentionWeightedAverage, self).build(input_shape)\n\n def call(self, x, mask=None):\n # computes a probability distribution over the timesteps\n # uses 'max trick' for numerical stability\n # reshape is done to avoid issue with Tensorflow\n # and 1-dimensional weights\n logits = K.dot(x, self.W)\n x_shape = K.shape(x)\n logits = K.reshape(logits, (x_shape[0], x_shape[1]))\n ai = K.exp(logits - K.max(logits, axis=-1, keepdims=True))\n\n # masked timesteps have zero weight\n if mask is not None:\n mask = K.cast(mask, K.floatx())\n ai = ai * mask\n att_weights = ai / (K.sum(ai, axis=1, keepdims=True) + K.epsilon())\n weighted_input = x * K.expand_dims(att_weights)\n result = K.sum(weighted_input, axis=1)\n if self.return_attention:\n return [result, att_weights]\n return result\n\n def get_output_shape_for(self, input_shape):\n return self.compute_output_shape(input_shape)\n\n def compute_output_shape(self, input_shape):\n output_len = input_shape[2]\n if self.return_attention:\n return [(input_shape[0], output_len), (input_shape[0], input_shape[1])]\n return (input_shape[0], output_len)\n\n def compute_mask(self, input, input_mask=None):\n if isinstance(input_mask, list):\n return [None] * len(input_mask)\n else:\n return None\n\n\n# https://www.kaggle.com/cpmpml/spell-checker-using-word2vec\nspell_model = gensim.models.KeyedVectors.load_word2vec_format(\n \"../input/embeddings/wiki-news-300d-1M/wiki-news-300d-1M.vec\"\n)\nwords = spell_model.index2word\nw_rank = {}\nfor i, word in enumerate(words):\n w_rank[word] = i\nWORDS = w_rank\n# Use fast text as vocabulary\ndef words(text):\n return re.findall(r\"\\w+\", text.lower())\n\n\ndef P(word):\n \"Probability of `word`.\"\n # use inverse of rank as proxy\n # returns 0 if the word isn't in the dictionary\n return -WORDS.get(word, 0)\n\n\ndef correction(word):\n \"Most probable spelling correction for word.\"\n return max(candidates(word), key=P)\n\n\ndef candidates(word):\n \"Generate possible spelling corrections for word.\"\n return known([word]) or known(edits1(word)) or [word]\n\n\ndef known(words):\n \"The subset of `words` that appear in the dictionary of WORDS.\"\n return set(w for w in words if w in WORDS)\n\n\ndef edits1(word):\n \"All edits that are one edit away from `word`.\"\n letters = \"abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz\"\n splits = [(word[:i], word[i:]) for i in range(len(word) + 1)]\n deletes = [L + R[1:] for L, R in splits if R]\n transposes = [L + R[1] + R[0] + R[2:] for L, R in splits if len(R) > 1]\n replaces = [L + c + R[1:] for L, R in splits if R for c in letters]\n inserts = [L + c + R for L, R in splits for c in letters]\n return set(deletes + transposes + replaces + inserts)\n\n\ndef edits2(word):\n \"All edits that are two edits away from `word`.\"\n return (e2 for e1 in edits1(word) for e2 in edits1(e1))\n\n\ndef singlify(word):\n return \"\".join(\n [letter for i, letter in enumerate(word) if i == 0 or letter != word[i - 1]]\n )\n\n\n# modified version of\n# https://www.kaggle.com/sudalairajkumar/a-look-at-different-embeddings\n# https://www.kaggle.com/danofer/different-embeddings-with-attention-fork\n# https://www.kaggle.com/shujian/different-embeddings-with-attention-fork-fork\ndef load_glove(word_dict, lemma_dict):\n EMBEDDING_FILE = \"../input/embeddings/glove.840B.300d/glove.840B.300d.txt\"\n\n def get_coefs(word, *arr):\n return word, np.asarray(arr, dtype=\"float32\")\n\n embeddings_index = dict(get_coefs(*o.split(\" \")) for o in open(EMBEDDING_FILE))\n embed_size = 300\n nb_words = len(word_dict) + 1\n embedding_matrix = np.zeros((nb_words, embed_size), dtype=np.float32)\n unknown_vector = np.zeros((embed_size,), dtype=np.float32) - 1.0\n print(unknown_vector[:5])\n for key in tqdm(word_dict):\n word = key\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = key.lower()\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = key.upper()\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = key.capitalize()\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = ps.stem(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = lc.stem(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = sb.stem(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = lemma_dict[key]\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n if len(key) > 1:\n word = correction(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = unknown_vector\n return embedding_matrix, nb_words\n\n\ndef load_fasttext(word_dict, lemma_dict):\n EMBEDDING_FILE = \"../input/embeddings/wiki-news-300d-1M/wiki-news-300d-1M.vec\"\n\n def get_coefs(word, *arr):\n return word, np.asarray(arr, dtype=\"float32\")\n\n embeddings_index = dict(\n get_coefs(*o.split(\" \")) for o in open(EMBEDDING_FILE) if len(o) > 100\n )\n embed_size = 300\n nb_words = len(word_dict) + 1\n embedding_matrix = np.zeros((nb_words, embed_size), dtype=np.float32)\n unknown_vector = np.zeros((embed_size,), dtype=np.float32) - 1.0\n print(unknown_vector[:5])\n for key in tqdm(word_dict):\n word = key\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = key.lower()\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = key.upper()\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = key.capitalize()\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = ps.stem(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = lc.stem(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = sb.stem(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = lemma_dict[key]\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n if len(key) > 1:\n word = correction(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = unknown_vector\n return embedding_matrix, nb_words\n\n\ndef load_para(word_dict, lemma_dict):\n EMBEDDING_FILE = \"../input/embeddings/paragram_300_sl999/paragram_300_sl999.txt\"\n\n def get_coefs(word, *arr):\n return word, np.asarray(arr, dtype=\"float32\")\n\n embeddings_index = dict(\n get_coefs(*o.split(\" \"))\n for o in open(EMBEDDING_FILE, encoding=\"utf8\", errors=\"ignore\")\n if len(o) > 100\n )\n embed_size = 300\n nb_words = len(word_dict) + 1\n embedding_matrix = np.zeros((nb_words, embed_size), dtype=np.float32)\n unknown_vector = np.zeros((embed_size,), dtype=np.float32) - 1.0\n print(unknown_vector[:5])\n for key in tqdm(word_dict):\n word = key\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = key.lower()\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = key.upper()\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = key.capitalize()\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = ps.stem(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = lc.stem(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = sb.stem(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n word = lemma_dict[key]\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n if len(key) > 1:\n word = correction(key)\n embedding_vector = embeddings_index.get(word)\n if embedding_vector is not None:\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = embedding_vector\n continue\n embedding_matrix[word_dict[key]] = unknown_vector\n return embedding_matrix, nb_words\n\n\ndef build_model(embedding_matrix, nb_words, embedding_size=300):\n inp = Input(shape=(max_length,))\n x = Embedding(\n nb_words, embedding_size, weights=[embedding_matrix], trainable=False\n )(inp)\n x = SpatialDropout1D(0.3)(x)\n x1 = Bidirectional(CuDNNLSTM(256, return_sequences=True))(x)\n x2 = Bidirectional(CuDNNGRU(128, return_sequences=True))(x1)\n max_pool1 = GlobalMaxPooling1D()(x1)\n max_pool2 = GlobalMaxPooling1D()(x2)\n conc = Concatenate()([max_pool1, max_pool2])\n predictions = Dense(1, activation=\"sigmoid\")(conc)\n model = Model(inputs=inp, outputs=predictions)\n adam = optimizers.Adam(lr=learning_rate)\n model.compile(optimizer=adam, loss=\"binary_crossentropy\", metrics=[\"accuracy\"])\n return model\n\n\nstart_time = time.time()\nprint(\"Loading data ...\")\ntrain = pd.read_csv(\"../input/train.csv\").fillna(\" \")\ntest = pd.read_csv(\"../input/test.csv\").fillna(\" \")\ntrain_text = train[\"question_text\"]\ntest_text = test[\"question_text\"]\ntext_list = pd.concat([train_text, test_text])\ny = train[\"target\"].values\nnum_train_data = y.shape[0]\nprint(\"--- %s seconds ---\" % (time.time() - start_time))\n\nstart_time = time.time()\nprint(\"Spacy NLP ...\")\nnlp = spacy.load(\"en_core_web_lg\", disable=[\"parser\", \"ner\", \"tagger\"])\nnlp.vocab.add_flag(\n lambda s: s.lower() in spacy.lang.en.stop_words.STOP_WORDS, spacy.attrs.IS_STOP\n)\nword_dict = {}\nword_index = 1\nlemma_dict = {}\ndocs = nlp.pipe(text_list, n_threads=2)\nword_sequences = []\nfor doc in tqdm(docs):\n word_seq = []\n for token in doc:\n if (token.text not in word_dict) and (token.pos_ is not \"PUNCT\"):\n word_dict[token.text] = word_index\n word_index += 1\n lemma_dict[token.text] = token.lemma_\n if token.pos_ is not \"PUNCT\":\n word_seq.append(word_dict[token.text])\n word_sequences.append(word_seq)\ndel docs\ngc.collect()\ntrain_word_sequences = word_sequences[:num_train_data]\ntest_word_sequences = word_sequences[num_train_data:]\nprint(\"--- %s seconds ---\" % (time.time() - start_time))\n\n# hyperparameters\nmax_length = 55\nembedding_size = 600\nlearning_rate = 0.001\nbatch_size = 512\nnum_epoch = 4\n\ntrain_word_sequences = pad_sequences(\n train_word_sequences, maxlen=max_length, padding=\"post\"\n)\ntest_word_sequences = pad_sequences(\n test_word_sequences, maxlen=max_length, padding=\"post\"\n)\nprint(train_word_sequences[:1])\nprint(test_word_sequences[:1])\npred_prob = np.zeros((len(test_word_sequences),), dtype=np.float32)\n\nstart_time = time.time()\nprint(\"Loading embedding matrix ...\")\nembedding_matrix_glove, nb_words = load_glove(word_dict, lemma_dict)\nembedding_matrix_fasttext, nb_words = load_fasttext(word_dict, lemma_dict)\nembedding_matrix = np.concatenate(\n (embedding_matrix_glove, embedding_matrix_fasttext), axis=1\n)\nprint(\"--- %s seconds ---\" % (time.time() - start_time))\n\nstart_time = time.time()\nprint(\"Start training ...\")\nmodel = build_model(embedding_matrix, nb_words, embedding_size)\nmodel.fit(\n train_word_sequences, y, batch_size=batch_size, epochs=num_epoch - 1, verbose=2\n)\npred_prob += 0.15 * np.squeeze(\n model.predict(test_word_sequences, batch_size=batch_size, verbose=2)\n)\nmodel.fit(train_word_sequences, y, batch_size=batch_size, epochs=1, verbose=2)\npred_prob += 0.35 * np.squeeze(\n model.predict(test_word_sequences, batch_size=batch_size, verbose=2)\n)\ndel model, embedding_matrix_fasttext, embedding_matrix\ngc.collect()\nK.clear_session()\nprint(\"--- %s seconds ---\" % (time.time() - start_time))\n\nstart_time = time.time()\nprint(\"Loading embedding matrix ...\")\nembedding_matrix_para, nb_words = load_para(word_dict, lemma_dict)\nembedding_matrix = np.concatenate(\n (embedding_matrix_glove, embedding_matrix_para), axis=1\n)\nprint(\"--- %s seconds ---\" % (time.time() - start_time))\n\nstart_time = time.time()\nprint(\"Start training ...\")\nmodel = build_model(embedding_matrix, nb_words, embedding_size)\nmodel.fit(\n train_word_sequences, y, batch_size=batch_size, epochs=num_epoch - 1, verbose=2\n)\npred_prob += 0.15 * np.squeeze(\n model.predict(test_word_sequences, batch_size=batch_size, verbose=2)\n)\nmodel.fit(train_word_sequences, y, batch_size=batch_size, epochs=1, verbose=2)\npred_prob += 0.35 * np.squeeze(\n model.predict(test_word_sequences, batch_size=batch_size, verbose=2)\n)\nprint(\"--- %s seconds ---\" % (time.time() - start_time))\n\nsubmission = pd.DataFrame.from_dict({\"qid\": test[\"qid\"]})\nsubmission[\"prediction\"] = (pred_prob > 0.35).astype(int)\nsubmission.to_csv(\"submission.csv\", index=False)\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/NLP/Kaggle Quora Insincere Questions Classification/README.MD",
"content": "## Solution to Quora Insincere Questions Classification\n\n\nLink: https://www.kaggle.com/c/microsoft-malware-prediction\n\nThe malware industry continues to be a well-organized, well-funded market dedicated to evading traditional security measures. Once a computer is infected by malware, criminals can hurt consumers and enterprises in many ways.\n\nWith more than one billion enterprise and consumer customers, Microsoft takes this problem very seriously and is deeply invested in improving security.\n\nAs one part of their overall strategy for doing so, Microsoft is challenging the data science community to develop techniques to predict if a machine will soon be hit with malware. As with their previous, Malware Challenge (2015), Microsoft is providing Kagglers with an unprecedented malware dataset to encourage open-source progress on effective techniques for predicting malware occurrences.\n\nCan you help protect more than one billion machines from damage BEFORE it happens?\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/NLP/Kaggle Quora Insincere Questions Classification/fix misspellings.py",
"content": "import io\nimport collections\nimport matplotlib.pyplot as plt\nimport nltk\nimport enchant\n \nwords = []\nwith io.open('corpus.txt', 'r', encoding='utf-8') as f:\n for line in f:\n line = line.strip()\n words.extend(line.split())\n \nvocab = collections.Counter(words)\nvocab.most_common(10)\n\n''' \n#output\n[('i', 174639),\n('to', 127111),\n('my', 84886),\n('is', 69504),\n('me', 67741),\n('the', 63488),\n('not', 51194),\n('you', 50830),\n('for', 47846),\n('?', 45599)]\n'''\n\nlist(reversed(vocab.most_common()[-10:]))\n''' \n#output\n[('酒店在haridwar', 1),\n ('谢谢', 1),\n ('谈', 1),\n ('看不懂', 1),\n ('的人##', 1),\n ('现在呢', 1),\n ('王建', 1),\n ('火大金一女', 1),\n ('李雙鈺', 1),\n ('拜拜', 1)]\n'''\n#learning fasttext\n# $ fasttext skipgram -input corpus.txt -output model -minCount 1 -minn 3 -maxn 6 -lr 0.01 -dim 100 -ws 3 -epoch 10 -neg 20\n\nfrom gensim.fasttext import FastText \nmodel = FastText.load_fasttext_format('model') \nprint(model.wv.most_similar('recharge', topn=5))\nprint(model.wv.most_similar('reminder', topn=5))\nprint(model.wv.most_similar('thanks', topn=5))\n\n\n'''\n#output\n[('rechargecharge', 0.9973811507225037),\n ('rechargea', 0.9964320063591003),\n ('rechargedd', 0.9945225715637207),\n ('erecharge', 0.9935820698738098),\n ('rechargw', 0.9932199716567993)]\n \n [(\"reminder'⏰\", 0.992865264415741),\n ('sk-reminder', 0.9927705526351929),\n ('myreminder', 0.992688775062561),\n ('reminderw', 0.9921447038650513),\n ('ofreminder', 0.992128312587738)]\n \n [('thanksd', 0.996020495891571),\n ('thanksll', 0.9954444169998169),\n ('thankseuy', 0.9953703880310059),\n ('thankss', 0.9946843385696411),\n'''\n\nword_to_mistakes = collections.defaultdict(list)\nnonalphabetic = re.compile(r'[^a-zA-Z]')\n \nfor word, freq in vocab.items():\n if freq < 500 or len(word) <= 3 or nonalphabetic.search(word) is not None:\n # To keep this task simple, we will not try finding\n # spelling mistakes for words that occur less than 500 times\n # or have length less than equal to 3 characters\n # or have anything other than English alphabets\n continue\n \n # Query the fasttext model for 50 closest neighbors to the word\n similar_words = model.wv.most_similar(word, topn=50)\n for similar_word in results:\n if include_spell_mistake(word, similar_word, similarity_score):\n word_to_mistakes[word].append(similar_word)\n\n\nenchant_us = enchant.Dict('en_US')\nspell_mistake_min_frequency = 5\nfasttext_min_similarity = 0.96\ndef include_spell_mistake(word, similar_word, score):\n \"\"\"\n Check if similar word passes some rules to be considered a spelling mistake\n \n Rules:\n 1. Similarity score should be greater than a threshold\n 2. Length of the word with spelling error should be greater than 3.\n 3. spelling mistake must occur at least some N times in the corpus\n 4. Must not be a correct English word.\n 5. First character of both correct spelling and wrong spelling should be same.\n 6. Has edit distance less than 2\n \"\"\"\n edit_distance_threshold = 1 if len(word) <= 4 else 2\n return (score > fasttext_min_similarity\n and len(similar_word) > 3\n and vocab[similar_word] >= spell_mistake_min_frequency\n and not enchant_us.check(similar_word)\n and word[0] == similar_word[0]\n and nltk.edit_distance(word, similar_word) <= edit_distance_threshold)\n\n'''\nSome rules are straightforward:\n\nSpelling mistake word vector must have high vector similarity with correct word’s vector,\nSpelling mistake word must occur at least 5 times in our corpus,\nIt must have more than three characters\nIt should not be a legit English word (we use Enchant which has a convenient dictionary check function).\n'''\n#At this point, most of our work is done, let’s check word_to_mistakes:\n\n'''\nprint(list(word_to_mistakes.items())[:10])\n \n[\n ('want', ['wann', 'wanto', 'wanr', 'wany']),\n ('have', ['havea', 'havr']),\n ('this', ['thiss', 'thise']),\n ('please', ['pleasee', 'pleasr', 'pleasw', 'pleaseee', 'pleae', 'pleaae']),\n ('number', ['numbe', 'numbet', 'numbee', 'numbr']),\n ('call', ['calll']),\n ('will', ['willl', 'wiill']),\n ('account', ['aaccount', 'acccount', 'accouny', 'accoun', 'acount', 'accout', 'acoount']),\n ('match', ['matche', 'matchs', 'matchh', 'matcj', 'matcg', 'matc', 'matcha']), ('recharge', ['rechargr', 'recharg', 'rechage', 'recharege', 'recharje', 'recharhe', 'rechare'])\n ]\n'''\n\n#an inverted index for fast lookup:\ninverted_index = {}\nfor word, mistakes in word_to_mistakes.items():\n for mistake in mistakes:\n if mistake != word:\n inverted_index[mistake] = word\n\n'''\nHowever, this method is not entirely accurate.\n\nVery common proper nouns can still slip through the rules and end up being corrected when they shouldn’t be.\nA manual inspection must still be done once to remove errors.\nAnother drawback is spelling mistakes that never occurred in the corpus will not have a correction in the index. Nevertheless, this was a fun experiment.\n'''\n"
},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/NLP/LSTM RNN/Next Chars pytorch/Char level RNN/data/anna.txt",
"content": "Chapter 1\n\n\nHappy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own\nway.\n\nEverything was in confusion in the Oblonskys' house. The wife had\ndiscovered that the husband was carrying on an intrigue with a French\ngirl, who had been a governess in their family, and she had announced to\nher husband that she could not go on living in the same house with him.\nThis position of affairs had now lasted three days, and not only the\nhusband and wife themselves, but all the members of their family and\nhousehold, were painfully conscious of it. Every person in the house\nfelt that there was no sense in their living together, and that the\nstray people brought together by chance in any inn had more in common\nwith one another than they, the members of the family and household of\nthe Oblonskys. The wife did not leave her own room, the husband had not\nbeen at home for three days. The children ran wild all over the house;\nthe English governess quarreled with the housekeeper, and wrote to a\nfriend asking her to look out for a new situation for her; the man-cook\nhad walked off the day before just at dinner time; the kitchen-maid, and\nthe coachman had given warning.\n\nThree days after the quarrel, Prince Stepan Arkadyevitch\nOblonsky--Stiva, as he was called in the fashionable world--woke up at\nhis usual hour, that is, at eight o'clock in the morning, not in his\nwife's bedroom, but on the leather-covered sofa in his study. He turned\nover his stout, well-cared-for person on the springy sofa, as though he\nwould sink into a long sleep again; he vigorously embraced the pillow on\nthe other side and buried his face in it; but all at once he jumped up,\nsat up on the sofa, and opened his eyes.\n\n\"Yes, yes, how was it now?\" he thought, going over his dream. \"Now, how\nwas it? To be sure! Alabin was giving a dinner at Darmstadt; no, not\nDarmstadt, but something American. Yes, but then, Darmstadt was in\nAmerica. Yes, Alabin was giving a dinner on glass tables, and the tables\nsang, _Il mio tesoro_--not _Il mio tesoro_ though, but something better,\nand there were some sort of little decanters on the table, and they were\nwomen, too,\" he remembered.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch's eyes twinkled gaily, and he pondered with a smile.\n\"Yes, it was nice, very nice. There was a great deal more that was\ndelightful, only there's no putting it into words, or even expressing it\nin one's thoughts awake.\" And noticing a gleam of light peeping in\nbeside one of the serge curtains, he cheerfully dropped his feet over\nthe edge of the sofa, and felt about with them for his slippers, a\npresent on his last birthday, worked for him by his wife on gold-colored\nmorocco. And, as he had done every day for the last nine years, he\nstretched out his hand, without getting up, towards the place where his\ndressing-gown always hung in his bedroom. And thereupon he suddenly\nremembered that he was not sleeping in his wife's room, but in his\nstudy, and why: the smile vanished from his face, he knitted his brows.\n\n\"Ah, ah, ah! Oo!...\" he muttered, recalling everything that had\nhappened. And again every detail of his quarrel with his wife was\npresent to his imagination, all the hopelessness of his position, and\nworst of all, his own fault.\n\n\"Yes, she won't forgive me, and she can't forgive me. And the most awful\nthing about it is that it's all my fault--all my fault, though I'm not\nto blame. That's the point of the whole situation,\" he reflected. \"Oh,\noh, oh!\" he kept repeating in despair, as he remembered the acutely\npainful sensations caused him by this quarrel.\n\nMost unpleasant of all was the first minute when, on coming, happy and\ngood-humored, from the theater, with a huge pear in his hand for his\nwife, he had not found his wife in the drawing-room, to his surprise had\nnot found her in the study either, and saw her at last in her bedroom\nwith the unlucky letter that revealed everything in her hand.\n\nShe, his Dolly, forever fussing and worrying over household details, and\nlimited in her ideas, as he considered, was sitting perfectly still with\nthe letter in her hand, looking at him with an expression of horror,\ndespair, and indignation.\n\n\"What's this? this?\" she asked, pointing to the letter.\n\nAnd at this recollection, Stepan Arkadyevitch, as is so often the case,\nwas not so much annoyed at the fact itself as at the way in which he had\nmet his wife's words.\n\nThere happened to him at that instant what does happen to people when\nthey are unexpectedly caught in something very disgraceful. He did not\nsucceed in adapting his face to the position in which he was placed\ntowards his wife by the discovery of his fault. Instead of being hurt,\ndenying, defending himself, begging forgiveness, instead of remaining\nindifferent even--anything would have been better than what he did\ndo--his face utterly involuntarily (reflex spinal action, reflected\nStepan Arkadyevitch, who was fond of physiology)--utterly involuntarily\nassumed its habitual, good-humored, and therefore idiotic smile.\n\nThis idiotic smile he could not forgive himself. Catching sight of that\nsmile, Dolly shuddered as though at physical pain, broke out with her\ncharacteristic heat into a flood of cruel words, and rushed out of the\nroom. Since then she had refused to see her husband.\n\n\"It's that idiotic smile that's to blame for it all,\" thought Stepan\nArkadyevitch.\n\n\"But what's to be done? What's to be done?\" he said to himself in\ndespair, and found no answer.\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was a truthful man in his relations with himself. He\nwas incapable of deceiving himself and persuading himself that he\nrepented of his conduct. He could not at this date repent of the fact\nthat he, a handsome, susceptible man of thirty-four, was not in love\nwith his wife, the mother of five living and two dead children, and only\na year younger than himself. All he repented of was that he had not\nsucceeded better in hiding it from his wife. But he felt all the\ndifficulty of his position and was sorry for his wife, his children, and\nhimself. Possibly he might have managed to conceal his sins better from\nhis wife if he had anticipated that the knowledge of them would have had\nsuch an effect on her. He had never clearly thought out the subject, but\nhe had vaguely conceived that his wife must long ago have suspected him\nof being unfaithful to her, and shut her eyes to the fact. He had even\nsupposed that she, a worn-out woman no longer young or good-looking, and\nin no way remarkable or interesting, merely a good mother, ought from a\nsense of fairness to take an indulgent view. It had turned out quite the\nother way.\n\n\"Oh, it's awful! oh dear, oh dear! awful!\" Stepan Arkadyevitch kept\nrepeating to himself, and he could think of nothing to be done. \"And how\nwell things were going up till now! how well we got on! She was\ncontented and happy in her children; I never interfered with her in\nanything; I let her manage the children and the house just as she liked.\nIt's true it's bad _her_ having been a governess in our house. That's\nbad! There's something common, vulgar, in flirting with one's governess.\nBut what a governess!\" (He vividly recalled the roguish black eyes of\nMlle. Roland and her smile.) \"But after all, while she was in the house,\nI kept myself in hand. And the worst of it all is that she's already ...\nit seems as if ill-luck would have it so! Oh, oh! But what, what is to\nbe done?\"\n\nThere was no solution, but that universal solution which life gives to\nall questions, even the most complex and insoluble. That answer is: one\nmust live in the needs of the day--that is, forget oneself. To forget\nhimself in sleep was impossible now, at least till nighttime; he could\nnot go back now to the music sung by the decanter-women; so he must\nforget himself in the dream of daily life.\n\n\"Then we shall see,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said to himself, and getting up\nhe put on a gray dressing-gown lined with blue silk, tied the tassels in\na knot, and, drawing a deep breath of air into his broad, bare chest, he\nwalked to the window with his usual confident step, turning out his feet\nthat carried his full frame so easily. He pulled up the blind and rang\nthe bell loudly. It was at once answered by the appearance of an old\nfriend, his valet, Matvey, carrying his clothes, his boots, and a\ntelegram. Matvey was followed by the barber with all the necessaries for\nshaving.\n\n\"Are there any papers from the office?\" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch,\ntaking the telegram and seating himself at the looking-glass.\n\n\"On the table,\" replied Matvey, glancing with inquiring sympathy at his\nmaster; and, after a short pause, he added with a sly smile, \"They've\nsent from the carriage-jobbers.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch made no reply, he merely glanced at Matvey in the\nlooking-glass. In the glance, in which their eyes met in the\nlooking-glass, it was clear that they understood one another. Stepan\nArkadyevitch's eyes asked: \"Why do you tell me that? don't you know?\"\n\nMatvey put his hands in his jacket pockets, thrust out one leg, and\ngazed silently, good-humoredly, with a faint smile, at his master.\n\n\"I told them to come on Sunday, and till then not to trouble you or\nthemselves for nothing,\" he said. He had obviously prepared the sentence\nbeforehand.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch saw Matvey wanted to make a joke and attract\nattention to himself. Tearing open the telegram, he read it through,\nguessing at the words, misspelt as they always are in telegrams, and his\nface brightened.\n\n\"Matvey, my sister Anna Arkadyevna will be here tomorrow,\" he said,\nchecking for a minute the sleek, plump hand of the barber, cutting a\npink path through his long, curly whiskers.\n\n\"Thank God!\" said Matvey, showing by this response that he, like his\nmaster, realized the significance of this arrival--that is, that Anna\nArkadyevna, the sister he was so fond of, might bring about a\nreconciliation between husband and wife.\n\n\"Alone, or with her husband?\" inquired Matvey.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch could not answer, as the barber was at work on his\nupper lip, and he raised one finger. Matvey nodded at the looking-glass.\n\n\"Alone. Is the room to be got ready upstairs?\"\n\n\"Inform Darya Alexandrovna: where she orders.\"\n\n\"Darya Alexandrovna?\" Matvey repeated, as though in doubt.\n\n\"Yes, inform her. Here, take the telegram; give it to her, and then do\nwhat she tells you.\"\n\n\"You want to try it on,\" Matvey understood, but he only said, \"Yes sir.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was already washed and combed and ready to be\ndressed, when Matvey, stepping deliberately in his creaky boots, came\nback into the room with the telegram in his hand. The barber had gone.\n\n\"Darya Alexandrovna told me to inform you that she is going away. Let\nhim do--that is you--do as he likes,\" he said, laughing only with his\neyes, and putting his hands in his pockets, he watched his master with\nhis head on one side. Stepan Arkadyevitch was silent a minute. Then a\ngood-humored and rather pitiful smile showed itself on his handsome\nface.\n\n\"Eh, Matvey?\" he said, shaking his head.\n\n\"It's all right, sir; she will come round,\" said Matvey.\n\n\"Come round?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Do you think so? Who's there?\" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch, hearing the\nrustle of a woman's dress at the door.\n\n\"It's I,\" said a firm, pleasant, woman's voice, and the stern,\npockmarked face of Matrona Philimonovna, the nurse, was thrust in at the\ndoorway.\n\n\"Well, what is it, Matrona?\" queried Stepan Arkadyevitch, going up to\nher at the door.\n\nAlthough Stepan Arkadyevitch was completely in the wrong as regards his\nwife, and was conscious of this himself, almost every one in the house\n(even the nurse, Darya Alexandrovna's chief ally) was on his side.\n\n\"Well, what now?\" he asked disconsolately.\n\n\"Go to her, sir; own your fault again. Maybe God will aid you. She is\nsuffering so, it's sad to see her; and besides, everything in the house\nis topsy-turvy. You must have pity, sir, on the children. Beg her\nforgiveness, sir. There's no help for it! One must take the\nconsequences...\"\n\n\"But she won't see me.\"\n\n\"You do your part. God is merciful; pray to God, sir, pray to God.\"\n\n\"Come, that'll do, you can go,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, blushing\nsuddenly. \"Well now, do dress me.\" He turned to Matvey and threw off his\ndressing-gown decisively.\n\nMatvey was already holding up the shirt like a horse's collar, and,\nblowing off some invisible speck, he slipped it with obvious pleasure\nover the well-groomed body of his master.\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\n\nWhen he was dressed, Stepan Arkadyevitch sprinkled some scent on\nhimself, pulled down his shirt-cuffs, distributed into his pockets his\ncigarettes, pocketbook, matches, and watch with its double chain and\nseals, and shaking out his handkerchief, feeling himself clean,\nfragrant, healthy, and physically at ease, in spite of his unhappiness,\nhe walked with a slight swing on each leg into the dining-room, where\ncoffee was already waiting for him, and beside the coffee, letters and\npapers from the office.\n\nHe read the letters. One was very unpleasant, from a merchant who was\nbuying a forest on his wife's property. To sell this forest was\nabsolutely essential; but at present, until he was reconciled with his\nwife, the subject could not be discussed. The most unpleasant thing of\nall was that his pecuniary interests should in this way enter into the\nquestion of his reconciliation with his wife. And the idea that he might\nbe led on by his interests, that he might seek a reconciliation with his\nwife on account of the sale of the forest--that idea hurt him.\n\nWhen he had finished his letters, Stepan Arkadyevitch moved the\noffice-papers close to him, rapidly looked through two pieces of\nbusiness, made a few notes with a big pencil, and pushing away the\npapers, turned to his coffee. As he sipped his coffee, he opened a still\ndamp morning paper, and began reading it.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch took in and read a liberal paper, not an extreme\none, but one advocating the views held by the majority. And in spite of\nthe fact that science, art, and politics had no special interest for\nhim, he firmly held those views on all these subjects which were held by\nthe majority and by his paper, and he only changed them when the\nmajority changed them--or, more strictly speaking, he did not change\nthem, but they imperceptibly changed of themselves within him.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch had not chosen his political opinions or his views;\nthese political opinions and views had come to him of themselves, just\nas he did not choose the shapes of his hat and coat, but simply took\nthose that were being worn. And for him, living in a certain\nsociety--owing to the need, ordinarily developed at years of discretion,\nfor some degree of mental activity--to have views was just as\nindispensable as to have a hat. If there was a reason for his preferring\nliberal to conservative views, which were held also by many of his\ncircle, it arose not from his considering liberalism more rational, but\nfrom its being in closer accordance with his manner of life. The liberal\nparty said that in Russia everything is wrong, and certainly Stepan\nArkadyevitch had many debts and was decidedly short of money. The\nliberal party said that marriage is an institution quite out of date,\nand that it needs reconstruction; and family life certainly afforded\nStepan Arkadyevitch little gratification, and forced him into lying and\nhypocrisy, which was so repulsive to his nature. The liberal party said,\nor rather allowed it to be understood, that religion is only a curb to\nkeep in check the barbarous classes of the people; and Stepan\nArkadyevitch could not get through even a short service without his legs\naching from standing up, and could never make out what was the object of\nall the terrible and high-flown language about another world when life\nmight be so very amusing in this world. And with all this, Stepan\nArkadyevitch, who liked a joke, was fond of puzzling a plain man by\nsaying that if he prided himself on his origin, he ought not to stop at\nRurik and disown the first founder of his family--the monkey. And so\nLiberalism had become a habit of Stepan Arkadyevitch's, and he liked his\nnewspaper, as he did his cigar after dinner, for the slight fog it\ndiffused in his brain. He read the leading article, in which it was\nmaintained that it was quite senseless in our day to raise an outcry\nthat radicalism was threatening to swallow up all conservative elements,\nand that the government ought to take measures to crush the\nrevolutionary hydra; that, on the contrary, \"in our opinion the danger\nlies not in that fantastic revolutionary hydra, but in the obstinacy of\ntraditionalism clogging progress,\" etc., etc. He read another article,\ntoo, a financial one, which alluded to Bentham and Mill, and dropped\nsome innuendoes reflecting on the ministry. With his characteristic\nquickwittedness he caught the drift of each innuendo, divined whence it\ncame, at whom and on what ground it was aimed, and that afforded him, as\nit always did, a certain satisfaction. But today that satisfaction was\nembittered by Matrona Philimonovna's advice and the unsatisfactory state\nof the household. He read, too, that Count Beist was rumored to have\nleft for Wiesbaden, and that one need have no more gray hair, and of the\nsale of a light carriage, and of a young person seeking a situation; but\nthese items of information did not give him, as usual, a quiet, ironical\ngratification. Having finished the paper, a second cup of coffee and a\nroll and butter, he got up, shaking the crumbs of the roll off his\nwaistcoat; and, squaring his broad chest, he smiled joyously: not\nbecause there was anything particularly agreeable in his mind--the\njoyous smile was evoked by a good digestion.\n\nBut this joyous smile at once recalled everything to him, and he grew\nthoughtful.\n\nTwo childish voices (Stepan Arkadyevitch recognized the voices of\nGrisha, his youngest boy, and Tanya, his eldest girl) were heard outside\nthe door. They were carrying something, and dropped it.\n\n\"I told you not to sit passengers on the roof,\" said the little girl in\nEnglish; \"there, pick them up!\"\n\n\"Everything's in confusion,\" thought Stepan Arkadyevitch; \"there are the\nchildren running about by themselves.\" And going to the door, he called\nthem. They threw down the box, that represented a train, and came in to\ntheir father.\n\nThe little girl, her father's favorite, ran up boldly, embraced him, and\nhung laughingly on his neck, enjoying as she always did the smell of\nscent that came from his whiskers. At last the little girl kissed his\nface, which was flushed from his stooping posture and beaming with\ntenderness, loosed her hands, and was about to run away again; but her\nfather held her back.\n\n\"How is mamma?\" he asked, passing his hand over his daughter's smooth,\nsoft little neck. \"Good morning,\" he said, smiling to the boy, who had\ncome up to greet him. He was conscious that he loved the boy less, and\nalways tried to be fair; but the boy felt it, and did not respond with a\nsmile to his father's chilly smile.\n\n\"Mamma? She is up,\" answered the girl.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch sighed. \"That means that she's not slept again all\nnight,\" he thought.\n\n\"Well, is she cheerful?\"\n\nThe little girl knew that there was a quarrel between her father and\nmother, and that her mother could not be cheerful, and that her father\nmust be aware of this, and that he was pretending when he asked about it\nso lightly. And she blushed for her father. He at once perceived it, and\nblushed too.\n\n\"I don't know,\" she said. \"She did not say we must do our lessons, but\nshe said we were to go for a walk with Miss Hoole to grandmamma's.\"\n\n\"Well, go, Tanya, my darling. Oh, wait a minute, though,\" he said, still\nholding her and stroking her soft little hand.\n\nHe took off the mantelpiece, where he had put it yesterday, a little box\nof sweets, and gave her two, picking out her favorites, a chocolate and\na fondant.\n\n\"For Grisha?\" said the little girl, pointing to the chocolate.\n\n\"Yes, yes.\" And still stroking her little shoulder, he kissed her on the\nroots of her hair and neck, and let her go.\n\n\"The carriage is ready,\" said Matvey; \"but there's some one to see you\nwith a petition.\"\n\n\"Been here long?\" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"Half an hour.\"\n\n\"How many times have I told you to tell me at once?\"\n\n\"One must let you drink your coffee in peace, at least,\" said Matvey, in\nthe affectionately gruff tone with which it was impossible to be angry.\n\n\"Well, show the person up at once,\" said Oblonsky, frowning with\nvexation.\n\nThe petitioner, the widow of a staff captain Kalinin, came with a\nrequest impossible and unreasonable; but Stepan Arkadyevitch, as he\ngenerally did, made her sit down, heard her to the end attentively\nwithout interrupting her, and gave her detailed advice as to how and to\nwhom to apply, and even wrote her, in his large, sprawling, good and\nlegible hand, a confident and fluent little note to a personage who\nmight be of use to her. Having got rid of the staff captain's widow,\nStepan Arkadyevitch took his hat and stopped to recollect whether he had\nforgotten anything. It appeared that he had forgotten nothing except\nwhat he wanted to forget--his wife.\n\n\"Ah, yes!\" He bowed his head, and his handsome face assumed a harassed\nexpression. \"To go, or not to go!\" he said to himself; and an inner\nvoice told him he must not go, that nothing could come of it but\nfalsity; that to amend, to set right their relations was impossible,\nbecause it was impossible to make her attractive again and able to\ninspire love, or to make him an old man, not susceptible to love. Except\ndeceit and lying nothing could come of it now; and deceit and lying were\nopposed to his nature.\n\n\"It must be some time, though: it can't go on like this,\" he said,\ntrying to give himself courage. He squared his chest, took out a\ncigarette, took two whiffs at it, flung it into a mother-of-pearl\nashtray, and with rapid steps walked through the drawing room, and\nopened the other door into his wife's bedroom.\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\n\nDarya Alexandrovna, in a dressing jacket, and with her now scanty, once\nluxuriant and beautiful hair fastened up with hairpins on the nape of\nher neck, with a sunken, thin face and large, startled eyes, which\nlooked prominent from the thinness of her face, was standing among a\nlitter of all sorts of things scattered all over the room, before an\nopen bureau, from which she was taking something. Hearing her husband's\nsteps, she stopped, looking towards the door, and trying assiduously to\ngive her features a severe and contemptuous expression. She felt she was\nafraid of him, and afraid of the coming interview. She was just\nattempting to do what she had attempted to do ten times already in these\nlast three days--to sort out the children's things and her own, so as to\ntake them to her mother's--and again she could not bring herself to do\nthis; but now again, as each time before, she kept saying to herself,\n\"that things cannot go on like this, that she must take some step\" to\npunish him, put him to shame, avenge on him some little part at least of\nthe suffering he had caused her. She still continued to tell herself\nthat she should leave him, but she was conscious that this was\nimpossible; it was impossible because she could not get out of the habit\nof regarding him as her husband and loving him. Besides this, she\nrealized that if even here in her own house she could hardly manage to\nlook after her five children properly, they would be still worse off\nwhere she was going with them all. As it was, even in the course of\nthese three days, the youngest was unwell from being given unwholesome\nsoup, and the others had almost gone without their dinner the day\nbefore. She was conscious that it was impossible to go away; but,\ncheating herself, she went on all the same sorting out her things and\npretending she was going.\n\nSeeing her husband, she dropped her hands into the drawer of the bureau\nas though looking for something, and only looked round at him when he\nhad come quite up to her. But her face, to which she tried to give a\nsevere and resolute expression, betrayed bewilderment and suffering.\n\n\"Dolly!\" he said in a subdued and timid voice. He bent his head towards\nhis shoulder and tried to look pitiful and humble, but for all that he\nwas radiant with freshness and health. In a rapid glance she scanned his\nfigure that beamed with health and freshness. \"Yes, he is happy and\ncontent!\" she thought; \"while I.... And that disgusting good nature,\nwhich every one likes him for and praises--I hate that good nature of\nhis,\" she thought. Her mouth stiffened, the muscles of the cheek\ncontracted on the right side of her pale, nervous face.\n\n\"What do you want?\" she said in a rapid, deep, unnatural voice.\n\n\"Dolly!\" he repeated, with a quiver in his voice. \"Anna is coming\ntoday.\"\n\n\"Well, what is that to me? I can't see her!\" she cried.\n\n\"But you must, really, Dolly...\"\n\n\"Go away, go away, go away!\" she shrieked, not looking at him, as though\nthis shriek were called up by physical pain.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch could be calm when he thought of his wife, he could\nhope that she would _come round_, as Matvey expressed it, and could\nquietly go on reading his paper and drinking his coffee; but when he saw\nher tortured, suffering face, heard the tone of her voice, submissive to\nfate and full of despair, there was a catch in his breath and a lump in\nhis throat, and his eyes began to shine with tears.\n\n\"My God! what have I done? Dolly! For God's sake!.... You know....\" He\ncould not go on; there was a sob in his throat.\n\nShe shut the bureau with a slam, and glanced at him.\n\n\"Dolly, what can I say?.... One thing: forgive... Remember, cannot nine\nyears of my life atone for an instant....\"\n\nShe dropped her eyes and listened, expecting what he would say, as it\nwere beseeching him in some way or other to make her believe\ndifferently.\n\n\"--instant of passion?\" he said, and would have gone on, but at that\nword, as at a pang of physical pain, her lips stiffened again, and again\nthe muscles of her right cheek worked.\n\n\"Go away, go out of the room!\" she shrieked still more shrilly, \"and\ndon't talk to me of your passion and your loathsomeness.\"\n\nShe tried to go out, but tottered, and clung to the back of a chair to\nsupport herself. His face relaxed, his lips swelled, his eyes were\nswimming with tears.\n\n\"Dolly!\" he said, sobbing now; \"for mercy's sake, think of the children;\nthey are not to blame! I am to blame, and punish me, make me expiate my\nfault. Anything I can do, I am ready to do anything! I am to blame, no\nwords can express how much I am to blame! But, Dolly, forgive me!\"\n\nShe sat down. He listened to her hard, heavy breathing, and he was\nunutterably sorry for her. She tried several times to begin to speak,\nbut could not. He waited.\n\n\"You remember the children, Stiva, to play with them; but I remember\nthem, and know that this means their ruin,\" she said--obviously one of\nthe phrases she had more than once repeated to herself in the course of\nthe last few days.\n\nShe had called him \"Stiva,\" and he glanced at her with gratitude, and\nmoved to take her hand, but she drew back from him with aversion.\n\n\"I think of the children, and for that reason I would do anything in the\nworld to save them, but I don't myself know how to save them. By taking\nthem away from their father, or by leaving them with a vicious\nfather--yes, a vicious father.... Tell me, after what ... has happened,\ncan we live together? Is that possible? Tell me, eh, is it possible?\"\nshe repeated, raising her voice, \"after my husband, the father of my\nchildren, enters into a love affair with his own children's governess?\"\n\n\"But what could I do? what could I do?\" he kept saying in a pitiful\nvoice, not knowing what he was saying, as his head sank lower and lower.\n\n\"You are loathsome to me, repulsive!\" she shrieked, getting more and\nmore heated. \"Your tears mean nothing! You have never loved me; you have\nneither heart nor honorable feeling! You are hateful to me, disgusting,\na stranger--yes, a complete stranger!\" With pain and wrath she uttered\nthe word so terrible to herself--_stranger_.\n\nHe looked at her, and the fury expressed in her face alarmed and amazed\nhim. He did not understand how his pity for her exasperated her. She saw\nin him sympathy for her, but not love. \"No, she hates me. She will not\nforgive me,\" he thought.\n\n\"It is awful! awful!\" he said.\n\nAt that moment in the next room a child began to cry; probably it had\nfallen down. Darya Alexandrovna listened, and her face suddenly\nsoftened.\n\nShe seemed to be pulling herself together for a few seconds, as though\nshe did not know where she was, and what she was doing, and getting up\nrapidly, she moved towards the door.\n\n\"Well, she loves my child,\" he thought, noticing the change of her face\nat the child's cry, \"my child: how can she hate me?\"\n\n\"Dolly, one word more,\" he said, following her.\n\n\"If you come near me, I will call in the servants, the children! They\nmay all know you are a scoundrel! I am going away at once, and you may\nlive here with your mistress!\"\n\nAnd she went out, slamming the door.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch sighed, wiped his face, and with a subdued tread\nwalked out of the room. \"Matvey says she will come round; but how? I\ndon't see the least chance of it. Ah, oh, how horrible it is! And how\nvulgarly she shouted,\" he said to himself, remembering her shriek and\nthe words--\"scoundrel\" and \"mistress.\" \"And very likely the maids were\nlistening! Horribly vulgar! horrible!\" Stepan Arkadyevitch stood a few\nseconds alone, wiped his face, squared his chest, and walked out of the\nroom.\n\nIt was Friday, and in the dining room the German watchmaker was winding\nup the clock. Stepan Arkadyevitch remembered his joke about this\npunctual, bald watchmaker, \"that the German was wound up for a whole\nlifetime himself, to wind up watches,\" and he smiled. Stepan\nArkadyevitch was fond of a joke: \"And maybe she will come round! That's\na good expression, '_come round,_'\" he thought. \"I must repeat that.\"\n\n\"Matvey!\" he shouted. \"Arrange everything with Darya in the sitting room\nfor Anna Arkadyevna,\" he said to Matvey when he came in.\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch put on his fur coat and went out onto the steps.\n\n\"You won't dine at home?\" said Matvey, seeing him off.\n\n\"That's as it happens. But here's for the housekeeping,\" he said, taking\nten roubles from his pocketbook. \"That'll be enough.\"\n\n\"Enough or not enough, we must make it do,\" said Matvey, slamming the\ncarriage door and stepping back onto the steps.\n\nDarya Alexandrovna meanwhile having pacified the child, and knowing from\nthe sound of the carriage that he had gone off, went back again to her\nbedroom. It was her solitary refuge from the household cares which\ncrowded upon her directly she went out from it. Even now, in the short\ntime she had been in the nursery, the English governess and Matrona\nPhilimonovna had succeeded in putting several questions to her, which\ndid not admit of delay, and which only she could answer: \"What were the\nchildren to put on for their walk? Should they have any milk? Should not\na new cook be sent for?\"\n\n\"Ah, let me alone, let me alone!\" she said, and going back to her\nbedroom she sat down in the same place as she had sat when talking to\nher husband, clasping tightly her thin hands with the rings that slipped\ndown on her bony fingers, and fell to going over in her memory all the\nconversation. \"He has gone! But has he broken it off with her?\" she\nthought. \"Can it be he sees her? Why didn't I ask him! No, no,\nreconciliation is impossible. Even if we remain in the same house, we\nare strangers--strangers forever!\" She repeated again with special\nsignificance the word so dreadful to her. \"And how I loved him! my God,\nhow I loved him!.... How I loved him! And now don't I love him? Don't I\nlove him more than before? The most horrible thing is,\" she began, but\ndid not finish her thought, because Matrona Philimonovna put her head in\nat the door.\n\n\"Let us send for my brother,\" she said; \"he can get a dinner anyway, or\nwe shall have the children getting nothing to eat till six again, like\nyesterday.\"\n\n\"Very well, I will come directly and see about it. But did you send for\nsome new milk?\"\n\nAnd Darya Alexandrovna plunged into the duties of the day, and drowned\nher grief in them for a time.\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch had learned easily at school, thanks to his\nexcellent abilities, but he had been idle and mischievous, and therefore\nwas one of the lowest in his class. But in spite of his habitually\ndissipated mode of life, his inferior grade in the service, and his\ncomparative youth, he occupied the honorable and lucrative position of\npresident of one of the government boards at Moscow. This post he had\nreceived through his sister Anna's husband, Alexey Alexandrovitch\nKarenin, who held one of the most important positions in the ministry to\nwhose department the Moscow office belonged. But if Karenin had not got\nhis brother-in-law this berth, then through a hundred other\npersonages--brothers, sisters, cousins, uncles, and aunts--Stiva\nOblonsky would have received this post, or some other similar one,\ntogether with the salary of six thousand absolutely needful for him, as\nhis affairs, in spite of his wife's considerable property, were in an\nembarrassed condition.\n\nHalf Moscow and Petersburg were friends and relations of Stepan\nArkadyevitch. He was born in the midst of those who had been and are the\npowerful ones of this world. One-third of the men in the government, the\nolder men, had been friends of his father's, and had known him in\npetticoats; another third were his intimate chums, and the remainder\nwere friendly acquaintances. Consequently the distributors of earthly\nblessings in the shape of places, rents, shares, and such, were all his\nfriends, and could not overlook one of their own set; and Oblonsky had\nno need to make any special exertion to get a lucrative post. He had\nonly not to refuse things, not to show jealousy, not to be quarrelsome\nor take offense, all of which from his characteristic good nature he\nnever did. It would have struck him as absurd if he had been told that\nhe would not get a position with the salary he required, especially as\nhe expected nothing out of the way; he only wanted what the men of his\nown age and standing did get, and he was no worse qualified for\nperforming duties of the kind than any other man.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was not merely liked by all who knew him for his\ngood humor, but for his bright disposition, and his unquestionable\nhonesty. In him, in his handsome, radiant figure, his sparkling eyes,\nblack hair and eyebrows, and the white and red of his face, there was\nsomething which produced a physical effect of kindliness and good humor\non the people who met him. \"Aha! Stiva! Oblonsky! Here he is!\" was\nalmost always said with a smile of delight on meeting him. Even though\nit happened at times that after a conversation with him it seemed that\nnothing particularly delightful had happened, the next day, and the\nnext, every one was just as delighted at meeting him again.\n\nAfter filling for three years the post of president of one of the\ngovernment boards at Moscow, Stepan Arkadyevitch had won the respect, as\nwell as the liking, of his fellow-officials, subordinates, and\nsuperiors, and all who had had business with him. The principal\nqualities in Stepan Arkadyevitch which had gained him this universal\nrespect in the service consisted, in the first place, of his extreme\nindulgence for others, founded on a consciousness of his own\nshortcomings; secondly, of his perfect liberalism--not the liberalism he\nread of in the papers, but the liberalism that was in his blood, in\nvirtue of which he treated all men perfectly equally and exactly the\nsame, whatever their fortune or calling might be; and thirdly--the most\nimportant point--his complete indifference to the business in which he\nwas engaged, in consequence of which he was never carried away, and\nnever made mistakes.\n\nOn reaching the offices of the board, Stepan Arkadyevitch, escorted by a\ndeferential porter with a portfolio, went into his little private room,\nput on his uniform, and went into the boardroom. The clerks and copyists\nall rose, greeting him with good-humored deference. Stepan Arkadyevitch\nmoved quickly, as ever, to his place, shook hands with his colleagues,\nand sat down. He made a joke or two, and talked just as much as was\nconsistent with due decorum, and began work. No one knew better than\nStepan Arkadyevitch how to hit on the exact line between freedom,\nsimplicity, and official stiffness necessary for the agreeable conduct\nof business. A secretary, with the good-humored deference common to\nevery one in Stepan Arkadyevitch's office, came up with papers, and\nbegan to speak in the familiar and easy tone which had been introduced\nby Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"We have succeeded in getting the information from the government\ndepartment of Penza. Here, would you care?....\"\n\n\"You've got them at last?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, laying his finger\non the paper. \"Now, gentlemen....\"\n\nAnd the sitting of the board began.\n\n\"If they knew,\" he thought, bending his head with a significant air as\nhe listened to the report, \"what a guilty little boy their president was\nhalf an hour ago.\" And his eyes were laughing during the reading of the\nreport. Till two o'clock the sitting would go on without a break, and at\ntwo o'clock there would be an interval and luncheon.\n\nIt was not yet two, when the large glass doors of the boardroom suddenly\nopened and someone came in.\n\nAll the officials sitting on the further side under the portrait of the\nTsar and the eagle, delighted at any distraction, looked round at the\ndoor; but the doorkeeper standing at the door at once drove out the\nintruder, and closed the glass door after him.\n\nWhen the case had been read through, Stepan Arkadyevitch got up and\nstretched, and by way of tribute to the liberalism of the times took out\na cigarette in the boardroom and went into his private room. Two of the\nmembers of the board, the old veteran in the service, Nikitin, and the\n_Kammerjunker Grinevitch_, went in with him.\n\n\"We shall have time to finish after lunch,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"To be sure we shall!\" said Nikitin.\n\n\"A pretty sharp fellow this Fomin must be,\" said Grinevitch of one of\nthe persons taking part in the case they were examining.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch frowned at Grinevitch's words, giving him thereby to\nunderstand that it was improper to pass judgment prematurely, and made\nhim no reply.\n\n\"Who was that came in?\" he asked the doorkeeper.\n\n\"Someone, your excellency, crept in without permission directly my back\nwas turned. He was asking for you. I told him: when the members come\nout, then....\"\n\n\"Where is he?\"\n\n\"Maybe he's gone into the passage, but here he comes anyway. That is\nhe,\" said the doorkeeper, pointing to a strongly built, broad-shouldered\nman with a curly beard, who, without taking off his sheepskin cap, was\nrunning lightly and rapidly up the worn steps of the stone staircase.\nOne of the members going down--a lean official with a portfolio--stood\nout of his way and looked disapprovingly at the legs of the stranger,\nthen glanced inquiringly at Oblonsky.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was standing at the top of the stairs. His\ngood-naturedly beaming face above the embroidered collar of his uniform\nbeamed more than ever when he recognized the man coming up.\n\n\"Why, it's actually you, Levin, at last!\" he said with a friendly\nmocking smile, scanning Levin as he approached. \"How is it you have\ndeigned to look me up in this den?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, and not\ncontent with shaking hands, he kissed his friend. \"Have you been here\nlong?\"\n\n\"I have just come, and very much wanted to see you,\" said Levin, looking\nshyly and at the same time angrily and uneasily around.\n\n\"Well, let's go into my room,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, who knew his\nfriend's sensitive and irritable shyness, and, taking his arm, he drew\nhim along, as though guiding him through dangers.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was on familiar terms with almost all his\nacquaintances, and called almost all of them by their Christian names:\nold men of sixty, boys of twenty, actors, ministers, merchants, and\nadjutant-generals, so that many of his intimate chums were to be found\nat the extreme ends of the social ladder, and would have been very much\nsurprised to learn that they had, through the medium of Oblonsky,\nsomething in common. He was the familiar friend of everyone with whom he\ntook a glass of champagne, and he took a glass of champagne with\neveryone, and when in consequence he met any of his disreputable chums,\nas he used in joke to call many of his friends, in the presence of his\nsubordinates, he well knew how, with his characteristic tact, to\ndiminish the disagreeable impression made on them. Levin was not a\ndisreputable chum, but Oblonsky, with his ready tact, felt that Levin\nfancied he might not care to show his intimacy with him before his\nsubordinates, and so he made haste to take him off into his room.\n\nLevin was almost of the same age as Oblonsky; their intimacy did not\nrest merely on champagne. Levin had been the friend and companion of his\nearly youth. They were fond of one another in spite of the difference of\ntheir characters and tastes, as friends are fond of one another who have\nbeen together in early youth. But in spite of this, each of them--as is\noften the way with men who have selected careers of different\nkinds--though in discussion he would even justify the other's career, in\nhis heart despised it. It seemed to each of them that the life he led\nhimself was the only real life, and the life led by his friend was a\nmere phantasm. Oblonsky could not restrain a slight mocking smile at the\nsight of Levin. How often he had seen him come up to Moscow from the\ncountry where he was doing something, but what precisely Stepan\nArkadyevitch could never quite make out, and indeed he took no interest\nin the matter. Levin arrived in Moscow always excited and in a hurry,\nrather ill at ease and irritated by his own want of ease, and for the\nmost part with a perfectly new, unexpected view of things. Stepan\nArkadyevitch laughed at this, and liked it. In the same way Levin in his\nheart despised the town mode of life of his friend, and his official\nduties, which he laughed at, and regarded as trifling. But the\ndifference was that Oblonsky, as he was doing the same as every one did,\nlaughed complacently and good-humoredly, while Levin laughed without\ncomplacency and sometimes angrily.\n\n\"We have long been expecting you,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, going into\nhis room and letting Levin's hand go as though to show that here all\ndanger was over. \"I am very, very glad to see you,\" he went on. \"Well,\nhow are you? Eh? When did you come?\"\n\nLevin was silent, looking at the unknown faces of Oblonsky's two\ncompanions, and especially at the hand of the elegant Grinevitch, which\nhad such long white fingers, such long yellow filbert-shaped nails, and\nsuch huge shining studs on the shirt-cuff, that apparently they absorbed\nall his attention, and allowed him no freedom of thought. Oblonsky\nnoticed this at once, and smiled.\n\n\"Ah, to be sure, let me introduce you,\" he said. \"My colleagues: Philip\nIvanitch Nikitin, Mihail Stanislavitch Grinevitch\"--and turning to\nLevin--\"a district councilor, a modern district councilman, a gymnast\nwho lifts thirteen stone with one hand, a cattle-breeder and sportsman,\nand my friend, Konstantin Dmitrievitch Levin, the brother of Sergey\nIvanovitch Koznishev.\"\n\n\"Delighted,\" said the veteran.\n\n\"I have the honor of knowing your brother, Sergey Ivanovitch,\" said\nGrinevitch, holding out his slender hand with its long nails.\n\nLevin frowned, shook hands coldly, and at once turned to Oblonsky.\nThough he had a great respect for his half-brother, an author well known\nto all Russia, he could not endure it when people treated him not as\nKonstantin Levin, but as the brother of the celebrated Koznishev.\n\n\"No, I am no longer a district councilor. I have quarreled with them\nall, and don't go to the meetings any more,\" he said, turning to\nOblonsky.\n\n\"You've been quick about it!\" said Oblonsky with a smile. \"But how?\nwhy?\"\n\n\"It's a long story. I will tell you some time,\" said Levin, but he began\ntelling him at once. \"Well, to put it shortly, I was convinced that\nnothing was really done by the district councils, or ever could be,\" he\nbegan, as though some one had just insulted him. \"On one side it's a\nplaything; they play at being a parliament, and I'm neither young enough\nnor old enough to find amusement in playthings; and on the other side\"\n(he stammered) \"it's a means for the coterie of the district to make\nmoney. Formerly they had wardships, courts of justice, now they have the\ndistrict council--not in the form of bribes, but in the form of unearned\nsalary,\" he said, as hotly as though someone of those present had\nopposed his opinion.\n\n\"Aha! You're in a new phase again, I see--a conservative,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch. \"However, we can go into that later.\"\n\n\"Yes, later. But I wanted to see you,\" said Levin, looking with hatred\nat Grinevitch's hand.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch gave a scarcely perceptible smile.\n\n\"How was it you used to say you would never wear European dress again?\"\nhe said, scanning his new suit, obviously cut by a French tailor. \"Ah! I\nsee: a new phase.\"\n\nLevin suddenly blushed, not as grown men blush, slightly, without being\nthemselves aware of it, but as boys blush, feeling that they are\nridiculous through their shyness, and consequently ashamed of it and\nblushing still more, almost to the point of tears. And it was so strange\nto see this sensible, manly face in such a childish plight, that\nOblonsky left off looking at him.\n\n\"Oh, where shall we meet? You know I want very much to talk to you,\"\nsaid Levin.\n\nOblonsky seemed to ponder.\n\n\"I'll tell you what: let's go to Gurin's to lunch, and there we can\ntalk. I am free till three.\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Levin, after an instant's thought, \"I have got to go on\nsomewhere else.\"\n\n\"All right, then, let's dine together.\"\n\n\"Dine together? But I have nothing very particular, only a few words to\nsay, and a question I want to ask you, and we can have a talk\nafterwards.\"\n\n\"Well, say the few words, then, at once, and we'll gossip after dinner.\"\n\n\"Well, it's this,\" said Levin; \"but it's of no importance, though.\"\n\nHis face all at once took an expression of anger from the effort he was\nmaking to surmount his shyness.\n\n\"What are the Shtcherbatskys doing? Everything as it used to be?\" he\nsaid.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch, who had long known that Levin was in love with his\nsister-in-law, Kitty, gave a hardly perceptible smile, and his eyes\nsparkled merrily.\n\n\"You said a few words, but I can't answer in a few words, because....\nExcuse me a minute...\"\n\nA secretary came in, with respectful familiarity and the modest\nconsciousness, characteristic of every secretary, of superiority to his\nchief in the knowledge of their business; he went up to Oblonsky with\nsome papers, and began, under pretense of asking a question, to explain\nsome objection. Stepan Arkadyevitch, without hearing him out, laid his\nhand genially on the secretary's sleeve.\n\n\"No, you do as I told you,\" he said, softening his words with a smile,\nand with a brief explanation of his view of the matter he turned away\nfrom the papers, and said: \"So do it that way, if you please, Zahar\nNikititch.\"\n\nThe secretary retired in confusion. During the consultation with the\nsecretary Levin had completely recovered from his embarrassment. He was\nstanding with his elbows on the back of a chair, and on his face was a\nlook of ironical attention.\n\n\"I don't understand it, I don't understand it,\" he said.\n\n\"What don't you understand?\" said Oblonsky, smiling as brightly as ever,\nand picking up a cigarette. He expected some queer outburst from Levin.\n\n\"I don't understand what you are doing,\" said Levin, shrugging his\nshoulders. \"How can you do it seriously?\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Why, because there's nothing in it.\"\n\n\"You think so, but we're overwhelmed with work.\"\n\n\"On paper. But, there, you've a gift for it,\" added Levin.\n\n\"That's to say, you think there's a lack of something in me?\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" said Levin. \"But all the same I admire your grandeur, and\nam proud that I've a friend in such a great person. You've not answered\nmy question, though,\" he went on, with a desperate effort looking\nOblonsky straight in the face.\n\n\"Oh, that's all very well. You wait a bit, and you'll come to this\nyourself. It's very nice for you to have over six thousand acres in the\nKarazinsky district, and such muscles, and the freshness of a girl of\ntwelve; still you'll be one of us one day. Yes, as to your question,\nthere is no change, but it's a pity you've been away so long.\"\n\n\"Oh, why so?\" Levin queried, panic-stricken.\n\n\"Oh, nothing,\" responded Oblonsky. \"We'll talk it over. But what's\nbrought you up to town?\"\n\n\"Oh, we'll talk about that, too, later on,\" said Levin, reddening again\nup to his ears.\n\n\"All right. I see,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"I should ask you to come\nto us, you know, but my wife's not quite the thing. But I tell you what;\nif you want to see them, they're sure now to be at the Zoological\nGardens from four to five. Kitty skates. You drive along there, and I'll\ncome and fetch you, and we'll go and dine somewhere together.\"\n\n\"Capital. So good-bye till then.\"\n\n\"Now mind, you'll forget, I know you, or rush off home to the country!\"\nStepan Arkadyevitch called out laughing.\n\n\"No, truly!\"\n\nAnd Levin went out of the room, only when he was in the doorway\nremembering that he had forgotten to take leave of Oblonsky's\ncolleagues.\n\n\"That gentleman must be a man of great energy,\" said Grinevitch, when\nLevin had gone away.\n\n\"Yes, my dear boy,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, nodding his head, \"he's a\nlucky fellow! Over six thousand acres in the Karazinsky district;\neverything before him; and what youth and vigor! Not like some of us.\"\n\n\"You have a great deal to complain of, haven't you, Stepan\nArkadyevitch?\"\n\n\"Ah, yes, I'm in a poor way, a bad way,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch with a\nheavy sigh.\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\n\nWhen Oblonsky asked Levin what had brought him to town, Levin blushed,\nand was furious with himself for blushing, because he could not answer,\n\"I have come to make your sister-in-law an offer,\" though that was\nprecisely what he had come for.\n\nThe families of the Levins and the Shtcherbatskys were old, noble Moscow\nfamilies, and had always been on intimate and friendly terms. This\nintimacy had grown still closer during Levin's student days. He had both\nprepared for the university with the young Prince Shtcherbatsky, the\nbrother of Kitty and Dolly, and had entered at the same time with him.\nIn those days Levin used often to be in the Shtcherbatskys' house, and\nhe was in love with the Shtcherbatsky household. Strange as it may\nappear, it was with the household, the family, that Konstantin Levin was\nin love, especially with the feminine half of the household. Levin did\nnot remember his own mother, and his only sister was older than he was,\nso that it was in the Shtcherbatskys' house that he saw for the first\ntime that inner life of an old, noble, cultivated, and honorable family\nof which he had been deprived by the death of his father and mother. All\nthe members of that family, especially the feminine half, were pictured\nby him, as it were, wrapped about with a mysterious poetical veil, and\nhe not only perceived no defects whatever in them, but under the\npoetical veil that shrouded them he assumed the existence of the\nloftiest sentiments and every possible perfection. Why it was the three\nyoung ladies had one day to speak French, and the next English; why it\nwas that at certain hours they played by turns on the piano, the sounds\nof which were audible in their brother's room above, where the students\nused to work; why they were visited by those professors of French\nliterature, of music, of drawing, of dancing; why at certain hours all\nthe three young ladies, with Mademoiselle Linon, drove in the coach to\nthe Tversky boulevard, dressed in their satin cloaks, Dolly in a long\none, Natalia in a half-long one, and Kitty in one so short that her\nshapely legs in tightly-drawn red stockings were visible to all\nbeholders; why it was they had to walk about the Tversky boulevard\nescorted by a footman with a gold cockade in his hat--all this and much\nmore that was done in their mysterious world he did not understand, but\nhe was sure that everything that was done there was very good, and he\nwas in love precisely with the mystery of the proceedings.\n\nIn his student days he had all but been in love with the eldest, Dolly,\nbut she was soon married to Oblonsky. Then he began being in love with\nthe second. He felt, as it were, that he had to be in love with one of\nthe sisters, only he could not quite make out which. But Natalia, too,\nhad hardly made her appearance in the world when she married the\ndiplomat Lvov. Kitty was still a child when Levin left the university.\nYoung Shtcherbatsky went into the navy, was drowned in the Baltic, and\nLevin's relations with the Shtcherbatskys, in spite of his friendship\nwith Oblonsky, became less intimate. But when early in the winter of\nthis year Levin came to Moscow, after a year in the country, and saw the\nShtcherbatskys, he realized which of the three sisters he was indeed\ndestined to love.\n\nOne would have thought that nothing could be simpler than for him, a man\nof good family, rather rich than poor, and thirty-two years old, to make\nthe young Princess Shtcherbatskaya an offer of marriage; in all\nlikelihood he would at once have been looked upon as a good match. But\nLevin was in love, and so it seemed to him that Kitty was so perfect in\nevery respect that she was a creature far above everything earthly; and\nthat he was a creature so low and so earthly that it could not even be\nconceived that other people and she herself could regard him as worthy\nof her.\n\nAfter spending two months in Moscow in a state of enchantment, seeing\nKitty almost every day in society, into which he went so as to meet her,\nhe abruptly decided that it could not be, and went back to the country.\n\nLevin's conviction that it could not be was founded on the idea that in\nthe eyes of her family he was a disadvantageous and worthless match for\nthe charming Kitty, and that Kitty herself could not love him. In her\nfamily's eyes he had no ordinary, definite career and position in\nsociety, while his contemporaries by this time, when he was thirty-two,\nwere already, one a colonel, and another a professor, another director\nof a bank and railways, or president of a board like Oblonsky. But he\n(he knew very well how he must appear to others) was a country\ngentleman, occupied in breeding cattle, shooting game, and building\nbarns; in other words, a fellow of no ability, who had not turned out\nwell, and who was doing just what, according to the ideas of the world,\nis done by people fit for nothing else.\n\nThe mysterious, enchanting Kitty herself could not love such an ugly\nperson as he conceived himself to be, and, above all, such an ordinary,\nin no way striking person. Moreover, his attitude to Kitty in the\npast--the attitude of a grown-up person to a child, arising from his\nfriendship with her brother--seemed to him yet another obstacle to love.\nAn ugly, good-natured man, as he considered himself, might, he supposed,\nbe liked as a friend; but to be loved with such a love as that with\nwhich he loved Kitty, one would need to be a handsome and, still more, a\ndistinguished man.\n\nHe had heard that women often did care for ugly and ordinary men, but he\ndid not believe it, for he judged by himself, and he could not himself\nhave loved any but beautiful, mysterious, and exceptional women.\n\nBut after spending two months alone in the country, he was convinced\nthat this was not one of those passions of which he had had experience\nin his early youth; that this feeling gave him not an instant's rest;\nthat he could not live without deciding the question, would she or would\nshe not be his wife, and that his despair had arisen only from his own\nimaginings, that he had no sort of proof that he would be rejected. And\nhe had now come to Moscow with a firm determination to make an offer,\nand get married if he were accepted. Or ... he could not conceive what\nwould become of him if he were rejected.\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\n\nOn arriving in Moscow by a morning train, Levin had put up at the house\nof his elder half-brother, Koznishev. After changing his clothes he went\ndown to his brother's study, intending to talk to him at once about the\nobject of his visit, and to ask his advice; but his brother was not\nalone. With him there was a well-known professor of philosophy, who had\ncome from Harkov expressly to clear up a difference that had arisen\nbetween them on a very important philosophical question. The professor\nwas carrying on a hot crusade against materialists. Sergey Koznishev had\nbeen following this crusade with interest, and after reading the\nprofessor's last article, he had written him a letter stating his\nobjections. He accused the professor of making too great concessions to\nthe materialists. And the professor had promptly appeared to argue the\nmatter out. The point in discussion was the question then in vogue: Is\nthere a line to be drawn between psychological and physiological\nphenomena in man? and if so, where?\n\nSergey Ivanovitch met his brother with the smile of chilly friendliness\nhe always had for everyone, and introducing him to the professor, went\non with the conversation.\n\nA little man in spectacles, with a narrow forehead, tore himself from\nthe discussion for an instant to greet Levin, and then went on talking\nwithout paying any further attention to him. Levin sat down to wait till\nthe professor should go, but he soon began to get interested in the\nsubject under discussion.\n\nLevin had come across the magazine articles about which they were\ndisputing, and had read them, interested in them as a development of the\nfirst principles of science, familiar to him as a natural science\nstudent at the university. But he had never connected these scientific\ndeductions as to the origin of man as an animal, as to reflex action,\nbiology, and sociology, with those questions as to the meaning of life\nand death to himself, which had of late been more and more often in his\nmind.\n\nAs he listened to his brother's argument with the professor, he noticed\nthat they connected these scientific questions with those spiritual\nproblems, that at times they almost touched on the latter; but every\ntime they were close upon what seemed to him the chief point, they\npromptly beat a hasty retreat, and plunged again into a sea of subtle\ndistinctions, reservations, quotations, allusions, and appeals to\nauthorities, and it was with difficulty that he understood what they\nwere talking about.\n\n\"I cannot admit it,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, with his habitual\nclearness, precision of expression, and elegance of phrase. \"I cannot in\nany case agree with Keiss that my whole conception of the external world\nhas been derived from perceptions. The most fundamental idea, the idea\nof existence, has not been received by me through sensation; indeed,\nthere is no special sense-organ for the transmission of such an idea.\"\n\n\"Yes, but they--Wurt, and Knaust, and Pripasov--would answer that your\nconsciousness of existence is derived from the conjunction of all your\nsensations, that that consciousness of existence is the result of your\nsensations. Wurt, indeed, says plainly that, assuming there are no\nsensations, it follows that there is no idea of existence.\"\n\n\"I maintain the contrary,\" began Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\nBut here it seemed to Levin that just as they were close upon the real\npoint of the matter, they were again retreating, and he made up his mind\nto put a question to the professor.\n\n\"According to that, if my senses are annihilated, if my body is dead, I\ncan have no existence of any sort?\" he queried.\n\nThe professor, in annoyance, and, as it were, mental suffering at the\ninterruption, looked round at the strange inquirer, more like a bargeman\nthan a philosopher, and turned his eyes upon Sergey Ivanovitch, as\nthough to ask: What's one to say to him? But Sergey Ivanovitch, who had\nbeen talking with far less heat and one-sidedness than the professor,\nand who had sufficient breadth of mind to answer the professor, and at\nthe same time to comprehend the simple and natural point of view from\nwhich the question was put, smiled and said:\n\n\"That question we have no right to answer as yet.\"\n\n\"We have not the requisite data,\" chimed in the professor, and he went\nback to his argument. \"No,\" he said; \"I would point out the fact that\nif, as Pripasov directly asserts, perception is based on sensation, then\nwe are bound to distinguish sharply between these two conceptions.\"\n\nLevin listened no more, and simply waited for the professor to go.\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\n\nWhen the professor had gone, Sergey Ivanovitch turned to his brother.\n\n\"Delighted that you've come. For some time, is it? How's your farming\ngetting on?\"\n\nLevin knew that his elder brother took little interest in farming, and\nonly put the question in deference to him, and so he only told him about\nthe sale of his wheat and money matters.\n\nLevin had meant to tell his brother of his determination to get married,\nand to ask his advice; he had indeed firmly resolved to do so. But after\nseeing his brother, listening to his conversation with the professor,\nhearing afterwards the unconsciously patronizing tone in which his\nbrother questioned him about agricultural matters (their mother's\nproperty had not been divided, and Levin took charge of both their\nshares), Levin felt that he could not for some reason begin to talk to\nhim of his intention of marrying. He felt that his brother would not\nlook at it as he would have wished him to.\n\n\"Well, how is your district council doing?\" asked Sergey Ivanovitch, who\nwas greatly interested in these local boards and attached great\nimportance to them.\n\n\"I really don't know.\"\n\n\"What! Why, surely you're a member of the board?\"\n\n\"No, I'm not a member now; I've resigned,\" answered Levin, \"and I no\nlonger attend the meetings.\"\n\n\"What a pity!\" commented Sergey Ivanovitch, frowning.\n\nLevin in self-defense began to describe what took place in the meetings\nin his district.\n\n\"That's how it always is!\" Sergey Ivanovitch interrupted him. \"We\nRussians are always like that. Perhaps it's our strong point, really,\nthe faculty of seeing our own shortcomings; but we overdo it, we comfort\nourselves with irony which we always have on the tip of our tongues. All\nI say is, give such rights as our local self-government to any other\nEuropean people--why, the Germans or the English would have worked their\nway to freedom from them, while we simply turn them into ridicule.\"\n\n\"But how can it be helped?\" said Levin penitently. \"It was my last\neffort. And I did try with all my soul. I can't. I'm no good at it.\"\n\n\"It's not that you're no good at it,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch; \"it is\nthat you don't look at it as you should.\"\n\n\"Perhaps not,\" Levin answered dejectedly.\n\n\"Oh! do you know brother Nikolay's turned up again?\"\n\nThis brother Nikolay was the elder brother of Konstantin Levin, and\nhalf-brother of Sergey Ivanovitch; a man utterly ruined, who had\ndissipated the greater part of his fortune, was living in the strangest\nand lowest company, and had quarreled with his brothers.\n\n\"What did you say?\" Levin cried with horror. \"How do you know?\"\n\n\"Prokofy saw him in the street.\"\n\n\"Here in Moscow? Where is he? Do you know?\" Levin got up from his chair,\nas though on the point of starting off at once.\n\n\"I am sorry I told you,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, shaking his head at his\nyounger brother's excitement. \"I sent to find out where he is living,\nand sent him his IOU to Trubin, which I paid. This is the answer he sent\nme.\"\n\nAnd Sergey Ivanovitch took a note from under a paper-weight and handed\nit to his brother.\n\nLevin read in the queer, familiar handwriting: \"I humbly beg you to\nleave me in peace. That's the only favor I ask of my gracious\nbrothers.--Nikolay Levin.\"\n\nLevin read it, and without raising his head stood with the note in his\nhands opposite Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\nThere was a struggle in his heart between the desire to forget his\nunhappy brother for the time, and the consciousness that it would be\nbase to do so.\n\n\"He obviously wants to offend me,\" pursued Sergey Ivanovitch; \"but he\ncannot offend me, and I should have wished with all my heart to assist\nhim, but I know it's impossible to do that.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" repeated Levin. \"I understand and appreciate your attitude\nto him; but I shall go and see him.\"\n\n\"If you want to, do; but I shouldn't advise it,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\"As regards myself, I have no fear of your doing so; he will not make\nyou quarrel with me; but for your own sake, I should say you would do\nbetter not to go. You can't do him any good; still, do as you please.\"\n\n\"Very likely I can't do any good, but I feel--especially at such a\nmoment--but that's another thing--I feel I could not be at peace.\"\n\n\"Well, that I don't understand,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch. \"One thing I do\nunderstand,\" he added; \"it's a lesson in humility. I have come to look\nvery differently and more charitably on what is called infamous since\nbrother Nikolay has become what he is ... you know what he did...\"\n\n\"Oh, it's awful, awful!\" repeated Levin.\n\nAfter obtaining his brother's address from Sergey Ivanovitch's footman,\nLevin was on the point of setting off at once to see him, but on second\nthought he decided to put off his visit till the evening. The first\nthing to do to set his heart at rest was to accomplish what he had come\nto Moscow for. From his brother's Levin went to Oblonsky's office, and\non getting news of the Shtcherbatskys from him, he drove to the place\nwhere he had been told he might find Kitty.\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\n\nAt four o'clock, conscious of his throbbing heart, Levin stepped out of\na hired sledge at the Zoological Gardens, and turned along the path to\nthe frozen mounds and the skating ground, knowing that he would\ncertainly find her there, as he had seen the Shtcherbatskys' carriage at\nthe entrance.\n\nIt was a bright, frosty day. Rows of carriages, sledges, drivers, and\npolicemen were standing in the approach. Crowds of well-dressed people,\nwith hats bright in the sun, swarmed about the entrance and along the\nwell-swept little paths between the little houses adorned with carving\nin the Russian style. The old curly birches of the gardens, all their\ntwigs laden with snow, looked as though freshly decked in sacred\nvestments.\n\nHe walked along the path towards the skating-ground, and kept saying to\nhimself--\"You mustn't be excited, you must be calm. What's the matter\nwith you? What do you want? Be quiet, stupid,\" he conjured his heart.\nAnd the more he tried to compose himself, the more breathless he found\nhimself. An acquaintance met him and called him by his name, but Levin\ndid not even recognize him. He went towards the mounds, whence came the\nclank of the chains of sledges as they slipped down or were dragged up,\nthe rumble of the sliding sledges, and the sounds of merry voices. He\nwalked on a few steps, and the skating-ground lay open before his eyes,\nand at once, amidst all the skaters, he knew her.\n\nHe knew she was there by the rapture and the terror that seized on his\nheart. She was standing talking to a lady at the opposite end of the\nground. There was apparently nothing striking either in her dress or her\nattitude. But for Levin she was as easy to find in that crowd as a rose\namong nettles. Everything was made bright by her. She was the smile that\nshed light on all round her. \"Is it possible I can go over there on the\nice, go up to her?\" he thought. The place where she stood seemed to him\na holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was\nalmost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror. He had to make an\neffort to master himself, and to remind himself that people of all sorts\nwere moving about her, and that he too might come there to skate. He\nwalked down, for a long while avoiding looking at her as at the sun, but\nseeing her, as one does the sun, without looking.\n\nOn that day of the week and at that time of day people of one set, all\nacquainted with one another, used to meet on the ice. There were crack\nskaters there, showing off their skill, and learners clinging to chairs\nwith timid, awkward movements, boys, and elderly people skating with\nhygienic motives. They seemed to Levin an elect band of blissful beings\nbecause they were here, near her. All the skaters, it seemed, with\nperfect self-possession, skated towards her, skated by her, even spoke\nto her, and were happy, quite apart from her, enjoying the capital ice\nand the fine weather.\n\nNikolay Shtcherbatsky, Kitty's cousin, in a short jacket and tight\ntrousers, was sitting on a garden seat with his skates on. Seeing Levin,\nhe shouted to him:\n\n\"Ah, the first skater in Russia! Been here long? First-rate ice--do put\nyour skates on.\"\n\n\"I haven't got my skates,\" Levin answered, marveling at this boldness\nand ease in her presence, and not for one second losing sight of her,\nthough he did not look at her. He felt as though the sun were coming\nnear him. She was in a corner, and turning out her slender feet in their\nhigh boots with obvious timidity, she skated towards him. A boy in\nRussian dress, desperately waving his arms and bowed down to the ground,\novertook her. She skated a little uncertainly; taking her hands out of\nthe little muff that hung on a cord, she held them ready for emergency,\nand looking towards Levin, whom she had recognized, she smiled at him,\nand at her own fears. When she had got round the turn, she gave herself\na push off with one foot, and skated straight up to Shtcherbatsky.\nClutching at his arm, she nodded smiling to Levin. She was more splendid\nthan he had imagined her.\n\nWhen he thought of her, he could call up a vivid picture of her to\nhimself, especially the charm of that little fair head, so freely set on\nthe shapely girlish shoulders, and so full of childish brightness and\ngood humor. The childishness of her expression, together with the\ndelicate beauty of her figure, made up her special charm, and that he\nfully realized. But what always struck him in her as something unlooked\nfor, was the expression of her eyes, soft, serene, and truthful, and\nabove all, her smile, which always transported Levin to an enchanted\nworld, where he felt himself softened and tender, as he remembered\nhimself in some days of his early childhood.\n\n\"Have you been here long?\" she said, giving him her hand. \"Thank you,\"\nshe added, as he picked up the handkerchief that had fallen out of her\nmuff.\n\n\"I? I've not long ... yesterday ... I mean today ... I arrived,\"\nanswered Levin, in his emotion not at once understanding her question.\n\"I was meaning to come and see you,\" he said; and then, recollecting\nwith what intention he was trying to see her, he was promptly overcome\nwith confusion and blushed.\n\n\"I didn't know you could skate, and skate so well.\"\n\nShe looked at him earnestly, as though wishing to make out the cause of\nhis confusion.\n\n\"Your praise is worth having. The tradition is kept up here that you are\nthe best of skaters,\" she said, with her little black-gloved hand\nbrushing a grain of hoarfrost off her muff.\n\n\"Yes, I used once to skate with passion; I wanted to reach perfection.\"\n\n\"You do everything with passion, I think,\" she said smiling. \"I should\nso like to see how you skate. Put on skates, and let us skate together.\"\n\n\"Skate together! Can that be possible?\" thought Levin, gazing at her.\n\n\"I'll put them on directly,\" he said.\n\nAnd he went off to get skates.\n\n\"It's a long while since we've seen you here, sir,\" said the attendant,\nsupporting his foot, and screwing on the heel of the skate. \"Except you,\nthere's none of the gentlemen first-rate skaters. Will that be all\nright?\" said he, tightening the strap.\n\n\"Oh, yes, yes; make haste, please,\" answered Levin, with difficulty\nrestraining the smile of rapture which would overspread his face. \"Yes,\"\nhe thought, \"this now is life, this is happiness! _Together,_ she said;\n_let us skate together!_ Speak to her now? But that's just why I'm\nafraid to speak--because I'm happy now, happy in hope, anyway.... And\nthen?.... But I must! I must! I must! Away with weakness!\"\n\nLevin rose to his feet, took off his overcoat, and scurrying over the\nrough ice round the hut, came out on the smooth ice and skated without\neffort, as it were, by simple exercise of will, increasing and\nslackening speed and turning his course. He approached with timidity,\nbut again her smile reassured him.\n\nShe gave him her hand, and they set off side by side, going faster and\nfaster, and the more rapidly they moved the more tightly she grasped his\nhand.\n\n\"With you I should soon learn; I somehow feel confidence in you,\" she\nsaid to him.\n\n\"And I have confidence in myself when you are leaning on me,\" he said,\nbut was at once panic-stricken at what he had said, and blushed. And\nindeed, no sooner had he uttered these words, when all at once, like the\nsun going behind a cloud, her face lost all its friendliness, and Levin\ndetected the familiar change in her expression that denoted the working\nof thought; a crease showed on her smooth brow.\n\n\"Is there anything troubling you?--though I've no right to ask such a\nquestion,\" he added hurriedly.\n\n\"Oh, why so?.... No, I have nothing to trouble me,\" she responded\ncoldly; and she added immediately: \"You haven't seen Mlle. Linon, have\nyou?\"\n\n\"Not yet.\"\n\n\"Go and speak to her, she likes you so much.\"\n\n\"What's wrong? I have offended her. Lord help me!\" thought Levin, and he\nflew towards the old Frenchwoman with the gray ringlets, who was sitting\non a bench. Smiling and showing her false teeth, she greeted him as an\nold friend.\n\n\"Yes, you see we're growing up,\" she said to him, glancing towards\nKitty, \"and growing old. _Tiny bear_ has grown big now!\" pursued the\nFrenchwoman, laughing, and she reminded him of his joke about the three\nyoung ladies whom he had compared to the three bears in the English\nnursery tale. \"Do you remember that's what you used to call them?\"\n\nHe remembered absolutely nothing, but she had been laughing at the joke\nfor ten years now, and was fond of it.\n\n\"Now, go and skate, go and skate. Our Kitty has learned to skate nicely,\nhasn't she?\"\n\nWhen Levin darted up to Kitty her face was no longer stern; her eyes\nlooked at him with the same sincerity and friendliness, but Levin\nfancied that in her friendliness there was a certain note of deliberate\ncomposure. And he felt depressed. After talking a little of her old\ngoverness and her peculiarities, she questioned him about his life.\n\n\"Surely you must be dull in the country in the winter, aren't you?\" she\nsaid.\n\n\"No, I'm not dull, I am very busy,\" he said, feeling that she was\nholding him in check by her composed tone, which he would not have the\nforce to break through, just as it had been at the beginning of the\nwinter.\n\n\"Are you going to stay in town long?\" Kitty questioned him.\n\n\"I don't know,\" he answered, not thinking of what he was saying. The\nthought that if he were held in check by her tone of quiet friendliness\nhe would end by going back again without deciding anything came into his\nmind, and he resolved to make a struggle against it.\n\n\"How is it you don't know?\"\n\n\"I don't know. It depends upon you,\" he said, and was immediately\nhorror-stricken at his own words.\n\nWhether it was that she had heard his words, or that she did not want to\nhear them, she made a sort of stumble, twice struck out, and hurriedly\nskated away from him. She skated up to Mlle. Linon, said something to\nher, and went towards the pavilion where the ladies took off their\nskates.\n\n\"My God! what have I done! Merciful God! help me, guide me,\" said Levin,\npraying inwardly, and at the same time, feeling a need of violent\nexercise, he skated about describing inner and outer circles.\n\nAt that moment one of the young men, the best of the skaters of the day,\ncame out of the coffee-house in his skates, with a cigarette in his\nmouth. Taking a run, he dashed down the steps in his skates, crashing\nand bounding up and down. He flew down, and without even changing the\nposition of his hands, skated away over the ice.\n\n\"Ah, that's a new trick!\" said Levin, and he promptly ran up to the top\nto do this new trick.\n\n\"Don't break your neck! it needs practice!\" Nikolay Shtcherbatsky\nshouted after him.\n\nLevin went to the steps, took a run from above as best he could, and\ndashed down, preserving his balance in this unwonted movement with his\nhands. On the last step he stumbled, but barely touching the ice with\nhis hand, with a violent effort recovered himself, and skated off,\nlaughing.\n\n\"How splendid, how nice he is!\" Kitty was thinking at that time, as she\ncame out of the pavilion with Mlle. Linon, and looked towards him with a\nsmile of quiet affection, as though he were a favorite brother. \"And can\nit be my fault, can I have done anything wrong? They talk of flirtation.\nI know it's not he that I love; but still I am happy with him, and he's\nso jolly. Only, why did he say that?...\" she mused.\n\nCatching sight of Kitty going away, and her mother meeting her at the\nsteps, Levin, flushed from his rapid exercise, stood still and pondered\na minute. He took off his skates, and overtook the mother and daughter\nat the entrance of the gardens.\n\n\"Delighted to see you,\" said Princess Shtcherbatskaya. \"On Thursdays we\nare home, as always.\"\n\n\"Today, then?\"\n\n\"We shall be pleased to see you,\" the princess said stiffly.\n\nThis stiffness hurt Kitty, and she could not resist the desire to smooth\nover her mother's coldness. She turned her head, and with a smile said:\n\n\"Good-bye till this evening.\"\n\nAt that moment Stepan Arkadyevitch, his hat cocked on one side, with\nbeaming face and eyes, strode into the garden like a conquering hero.\nBut as he approached his mother-in-law, he responded in a mournful and\ncrestfallen tone to her inquiries about Dolly's health. After a little\nsubdued and dejected conversation with his mother-in-law, he threw out\nhis chest again, and put his arm in Levin's.\n\n\"Well, shall we set off?\" he asked. \"I've been thinking about you all\nthis time, and I'm very, very glad you've come,\" he said, looking him in\nthe face with a significant air.\n\n\"Yes, come along,\" answered Levin in ecstasy, hearing unceasingly the\nsound of that voice saying, \"Good-bye till this evening,\" and seeing the\nsmile with which it was said.\n\n\"To the England or the Hermitage?\"\n\n\"I don't mind which.\"\n\n\"All right, then, the England,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, selecting that\nrestaurant because he owed more there than at the Hermitage, and\nconsequently considered it mean to avoid it. \"Have you got a sledge?\nThat's first-rate, for I sent my carriage home.\"\n\nThe friends hardly spoke all the way. Levin was wondering what that\nchange in Kitty's expression had meant, and alternately assuring himself\nthat there was hope, and falling into despair, seeing clearly that his\nhopes were insane, and yet all the while he felt himself quite another\nman, utterly unlike what he had been before her smile and those words,\n\"Good-bye till this evening.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was absorbed during the drive in composing the menu\nof the dinner.\n\n\"You like turbot, don't you?\" he said to Levin as they were arriving.\n\n\"Eh?\" responded Levin. \"Turbot? Yes, I'm _awfully_ fond of turbot.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\n\nWhen Levin went into the restaurant with Oblonsky, he could not help\nnoticing a certain peculiarity of expression, as it were, a restrained\nradiance, about the face and whole figure of Stepan Arkadyevitch.\nOblonsky took off his overcoat, and with his hat over one ear walked\ninto the dining room, giving directions to the Tatar waiters, who were\nclustered about him in evening coats, bearing napkins. Bowing to right\nand left to the people he met, and here as everywhere joyously greeting\nacquaintances, he went up to the sideboard for a preliminary appetizer\nof fish and vodka, and said to the painted Frenchwoman decked in\nribbons, lace, and ringlets, behind the counter, something so amusing\nthat even that Frenchwoman was moved to genuine laughter. Levin for his\npart refrained from taking any vodka simply because he felt such a\nloathing of that Frenchwoman, all made up, it seemed, of false hair,\n_poudre de riz,_ and _vinaigre de toilette_. He made haste to move away\nfrom her, as from a dirty place. His whole soul was filled with memories\nof Kitty, and there was a smile of triumph and happiness shining in his\neyes.\n\n\"This way, your excellency, please. Your excellency won't be disturbed\nhere,\" said a particularly pertinacious, white-headed old Tatar with\nimmense hips and coat-tails gaping widely behind. \"Walk in, your\nexcellency,\" he said to Levin; by way of showing his respect to Stepan\nArkadyevitch, being attentive to his guest as well.\n\nInstantly flinging a fresh cloth over the round table under the bronze\nchandelier, though it already had a table cloth on it, he pushed up\nvelvet chairs, and came to a standstill before Stepan Arkadyevitch with\na napkin and a bill of fare in his hands, awaiting his commands.\n\n\"If you prefer it, your excellency, a private room will be free\ndirectly; Prince Golistin with a lady. Fresh oysters have come in.\"\n\n\"Ah! oysters.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch became thoughtful.\n\n\"How if we were to change our program, Levin?\" he said, keeping his\nfinger on the bill of fare. And his face expressed serious hesitation.\n\"Are the oysters good? Mind now.\"\n\n\"They're Flensburg, your excellency. We've no Ostend.\"\n\n\"Flensburg will do, but are they fresh?\"\n\n\"Only arrived yesterday.\"\n\n\"Well, then, how if we were to begin with oysters, and so change the\nwhole program? Eh?\"\n\n\"It's all the same to me. I should like cabbage soup and porridge better\nthan anything; but of course there's nothing like that here.\"\n\n\"_Porridge a la Russe,_ your honor would like?\" said the Tatar, bending\ndown to Levin, like a nurse speaking to a child.\n\n\"No, joking apart, whatever you choose is sure to be good. I've been\nskating, and I'm hungry. And don't imagine,\" he added, detecting a look\nof dissatisfaction on Oblonsky's face, \"that I shan't appreciate your\nchoice. I am fond of good things.\"\n\n\"I should hope so! After all, it's one of the pleasures of life,\" said\nStepan Arkadyevitch. \"Well, then, my friend, you give us two--or better\nsay three--dozen oysters, clear soup with vegetables....\"\n\n\"_Printaniere,_\" prompted the Tatar. But Stepan Arkadyevitch apparently\ndid not care to allow him the satisfaction of giving the French names of\nthe dishes.\n\n\"With vegetables in it, you know. Then turbot with thick sauce, then ...\nroast beef; and mind it's good. Yes, and capons, perhaps, and then\nsweets.\"\n\nThe Tatar, recollecting that it was Stepan Arkadyevitch's way not to\ncall the dishes by the names in the French bill of fare, did not repeat\nthem after him, but could not resist rehearsing the whole menu to\nhimself according to the bill:--\"_Soupe printaniere, turbot, sauce\nBeaumarchais, poulard a l'estragon, macedoine de fruits_ ... etc.,\" and\nthen instantly, as though worked by springs, laying down one bound bill\nof fare, he took up another, the list of wines, and submitted it to\nStepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"What shall we drink?\"\n\n\"What you like, only not too much. Champagne,\" said Levin.\n\n\"What! to start with? You're right though, I dare say. Do you like the\nwhite seal?\"\n\n\"_Cachet blanc,_\" prompted the Tatar.\n\n\"Very well, then, give us that brand with the oysters, and then we'll\nsee.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. And what table wine?\"\n\n\"You can give us Nuits. Oh, no, better the classic Chablis.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. And _your_ cheese, your excellency?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, Parmesan. Or would you like another?\"\n\n\"No, it's all the same to me,\" said Levin, unable to suppress a smile.\n\nAnd the Tatar ran off with flying coat-tails, and in five minutes darted\nin with a dish of opened oysters on mother-of-pearl shells, and a bottle\nbetween his fingers.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch crushed the starchy napkin, tucked it into his\nwaistcoat, and settling his arms comfortably, started on the oysters.\n\n\"Not bad,\" he said, stripping the oysters from the pearly shell with a\nsilver fork, and swallowing them one after another. \"Not bad,\" he\nrepeated, turning his dewy, brilliant eyes from Levin to the Tatar.\n\nLevin ate the oysters indeed, though white bread and cheese would have\npleased him better. But he was admiring Oblonsky. Even the Tatar,\nuncorking the bottle and pouring the sparkling wine into the delicate\nglasses, glanced at Stepan Arkadyevitch, and settled his white cravat\nwith a perceptible smile of satisfaction.\n\n\"You don't care much for oysters, do you?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\nemptying his wine glass, \"or you're worried about something. Eh?\"\n\nHe wanted Levin to be in good spirits. But it was not that Levin was not\nin good spirits; he was ill at ease. With what he had in his soul, he\nfelt sore and uncomfortable in the restaurant, in the midst of private\nrooms where men were dining with ladies, in all this fuss and bustle;\nthe surroundings of bronzes, looking glasses, gas, and waiters--all of\nit was offensive to him. He was afraid of sullying what his soul was\nbrimful of.\n\n\"I? Yes, I am; but besides, all this bothers me,\" he said. \"You can't\nconceive how queer it all seems to a country person like me, as queer as\nthat gentleman's nails I saw at your place...\"\n\n\"Yes, I saw how much interested you were in poor Grinevitch's nails,\"\nsaid Stepan Arkadyevitch, laughing.\n\n\"It's too much for me,\" responded Levin. \"Do try, now, and put yourself\nin my place, take the point of view of a country person. We in the\ncountry try to bring our hands into such a state as will be most\nconvenient for working with. So we cut our nails; sometimes we turn up\nour sleeves. And here people purposely let their nails grow as long as\nthey will, and link on small saucers by way of studs, so that they can\ndo nothing with their hands.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch smiled gaily.\n\n\"Oh, yes, that's just a sign that he has no need to do coarse work. His\nwork is with the mind...\"\n\n\"Maybe. But still it's queer to me, just as at this moment it seems\nqueer to me that we country folks try to get our meals over as soon as\nwe can, so as to be ready for our work, while here are we trying to drag\nout our meal as long as possible, and with that object eating\noysters...\"\n\n\"Why, of course,\" objected Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"But that's just the aim\nof civilization--to make everything a source of enjoyment.\"\n\n\"Well, if that's its aim, I'd rather be a savage.\"\n\n\"And so you are a savage. All you Levins are savages.\"\n\nLevin sighed. He remembered his brother Nikolay, and felt ashamed and\nsore, and he scowled; but Oblonsky began speaking of a subject which at\nonce drew his attention.\n\n\"Oh, I say, are you going tonight to our people, the Shtcherbatskys', I\nmean?\" he said, his eyes sparkling significantly as he pushed away the\nempty rough shells, and drew the cheese towards him.\n\n\"Yes, I shall certainly go,\" replied Levin; \"though I fancied the\nprincess was not very warm in her invitation.\"\n\n\"What nonsense! That's her manner.... Come, boy, the soup!.... That's\nher manner--_grande dame,_\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"I'm coming, too,\nbut I have to go to the Countess Bonina's rehearsal. Come, isn't it true\nthat you're a savage? How do you explain the sudden way in which you\nvanished from Moscow? The Shtcherbatskys were continually asking me\nabout you, as though I ought to know. The only thing I know is that you\nalways do what no one else does.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Levin, slowly and with emotion, \"you're right. I am a\nsavage. Only, my savageness is not in having gone away, but in coming\nnow. Now I have come...\"\n\n\"Oh, what a lucky fellow you are!\" broke in Stepan Arkadyevitch, looking\ninto Levin's eyes.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n \"I know a gallant steed by tokens sure,\n And by his eyes I know a youth in love,\"\n\ndeclaimed Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"Everything is before you.\"\n\n\"Why, is it over for you already?\"\n\n\"No; not over exactly, but the future is yours, and the present is mine,\nand the present--well, it's not all that it might be.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"Oh, things go wrong. But I don't want to talk of myself, and besides I\ncan't explain it all,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"Well, why have you\ncome to Moscow, then?.... Hi! take away!\" he called to the Tatar.\n\n\"You guess?\" responded Levin, his eyes like deep wells of light fixed on\nStepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"I guess, but I can't be the first to talk about it. You can see by that\nwhether I guess right or wrong,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, gazing at\nLevin with a subtle smile.\n\n\"Well, and what have you to say to me?\" said Levin in a quivering voice,\nfeeling that all the muscles of his face were quivering too. \"How do you\nlook at the question?\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch slowly emptied his glass of Chablis, never taking\nhis eyes off Levin.\n\n\"I?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, \"there's nothing I desire so much as\nthat--nothing! It would be the best thing that could be.\"\n\n\"But you're not making a mistake? You know what we're speaking of?\" said\nLevin, piercing him with his eyes. \"You think it's possible?\"\n\n\"I think it's possible. Why not possible?\"\n\n\"No! do you really think it's possible? No, tell me all you think! Oh,\nbut if ... if refusal's in store for me!... Indeed I feel sure...\"\n\n\"Why should you think that?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling at his\nexcitement.\n\n\"It seems so to me sometimes. That will be awful for me, and for her\ntoo.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, anyway there's nothing awful in it for a girl. Every girl's\nproud of an offer.\"\n\n\"Yes, every girl, but not she.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch smiled. He so well knew that feeling of Levin's,\nthat for him all the girls in the world were divided into two classes:\none class--all the girls in the world except her, and those girls with\nall sorts of human weaknesses, and very ordinary girls: the other\nclass--she alone, having no weaknesses of any sort and higher than all\nhumanity.\n\n\"Stay, take some sauce,\" he said, holding back Levin's hand as it pushed\naway the sauce.\n\nLevin obediently helped himself to sauce, but would not let Stepan\nArkadyevitch go on with his dinner.\n\n\"No, stop a minute, stop a minute,\" he said. \"You must understand that\nit's a question of life and death for me. I have never spoken to any one\nof this. And there's no one I could speak of it to, except you. You know\nwe're utterly unlike each other, different tastes and views and\neverything; but I know you're fond of me and understand me, and that's\nwhy I like you awfully. But for God's sake, be quite straightforward\nwith me.\"\n\n\"I tell you what I think,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling. \"But I'll\nsay more: my wife is a wonderful woman...\" Stepan Arkadyevitch sighed,\nremembering his position with his wife, and, after a moment's silence,\nresumed--\"She has a gift of foreseeing things. She sees right through\npeople; but that's not all; she knows what will come to pass, especially\nin the way of marriages. She foretold, for instance, that Princess\nShahovskaya would marry Brenteln. No one would believe it, but it came\nto pass. And she's on your side.\"\n\n\"How do you mean?\"\n\n\"It's not only that she likes you--she says that Kitty is certain to be\nyour wife.\"\n\nAt these words Levin's face suddenly lighted up with a smile, a smile\nnot far from tears of emotion.\n\n\"She says that!\" cried Levin. \"I always said she was exquisite, your\nwife. There, that's enough, enough said about it,\" he said, getting up\nfrom his seat.\n\n\"All right, but do sit down.\"\n\nBut Levin could not sit down. He walked with his firm tread twice up and\ndown the little cage of a room, blinked his eyelids that his tears might\nnot fall, and only then sat down to the table.\n\n\"You must understand,\" said he, \"it's not love. I've been in love, but\nit's not that. It's not my feeling, but a sort of force outside me has\ntaken possession of me. I went away, you see, because I made up my mind\nthat it could never be, you understand, as a happiness that does not\ncome on earth; but I've struggled with myself, I see there's no living\nwithout it. And it must be settled.\"\n\n\"What did you go away for?\"\n\n\"Ah, stop a minute! Ah, the thoughts that come crowding on one! The\nquestions one must ask oneself! Listen. You can't imagine what you've\ndone for me by what you said. I'm so happy that I've become positively\nhateful; I've forgotten everything. I heard today that my brother\nNikolay ... you know, he's here ... I had even forgotten him. It seems\nto me that he's happy too. It's a sort of madness. But one thing's\nawful.... Here, you've been married, you know the feeling ... it's awful\nthat we--old--with a past ... not of love, but of sins ... are brought\nall at once so near to a creature pure and innocent; it's loathsome, and\nthat's why one can't help feeling oneself unworthy.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, you've not many sins on your conscience.\"\n\n\"Alas! all the same,\" said Levin, \"when with loathing I go over my life,\nI shudder and curse and bitterly regret it.... Yes.\"\n\n\"What would you have? The world's made so,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"The one comfort is like that prayer, which I always liked: 'Forgive me\nnot according to my unworthiness, but according to Thy lovingkindness.'\nThat's the only way she can forgive me.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\n\nLevin emptied his glass, and they were silent for a while.\n\n\"There's one other thing I ought to tell you. Do you know Vronsky?\"\nStepan Arkadyevitch asked Levin.\n\n\"No, I don't. Why do you ask?\"\n\n\"Give us another bottle,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch directed the Tatar, who\nwas filling up their glasses and fidgeting round them just when he was\nnot wanted.\n\n\"Why you ought to know Vronsky is that he's one of your rivals.\"\n\n\"Who's Vronsky?\" said Levin, and his face was suddenly transformed from\nthe look of childlike ecstasy which Oblonsky had just been admiring to\nan angry and unpleasant expression.\n\n\"Vronsky is one of the sons of Count Kirill Ivanovitch Vronsky, and one\nof the finest specimens of the gilded youth of Petersburg. I made his\nacquaintance in Tver when I was there on official business, and he came\nthere for the levy of recruits. Fearfully rich, handsome, great\nconnections, an aide-de-camp, and with all that a very nice,\ngood-natured fellow. But he's more than simply a good-natured fellow, as\nI've found out here--he's a cultivated man, too, and very intelligent;\nhe's a man who'll make his mark.\"\n\nLevin scowled and was dumb.\n\n\"Well, he turned up here soon after you'd gone, and as I can see, he's\nover head and ears in love with Kitty, and you know that her mother...\"\n\n\"Excuse me, but I know nothing,\" said Levin, frowning gloomily. And\nimmediately he recollected his brother Nikolay and how hateful he was to\nhave been able to forget him.\n\n\"You wait a bit, wait a bit,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling and\ntouching his hand. \"I've told you what I know, and I repeat that in this\ndelicate and tender matter, as far as one can conjecture, I believe the\nchances are in your favor.\"\n\nLevin dropped back in his chair; his face was pale.\n\n\"But I would advise you to settle the thing as soon as may be,\" pursued\nOblonsky, filling up his glass.\n\n\"No, thanks, I can't drink any more,\" said Levin, pushing away his\nglass. \"I shall be drunk.... Come, tell me how are you getting on?\" he\nwent on, obviously anxious to change the conversation.\n\n\"One word more: in any case I advise you to settle the question soon.\nTonight I don't advise you to speak,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"Go\nround tomorrow morning, make an offer in due form, and God bless you...\"\n\n\"Oh, do you still think of coming to me for some shooting? Come next\nspring, do,\" said Levin.\n\nNow his whole soul was full of remorse that he had begun this\nconversation with Stepan Arkadyevitch. A feeling such as his was\nprofaned by talk of the rivalry of some Petersburg officer, of the\nsuppositions and the counsels of Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch smiled. He knew what was passing in Levin's soul.\n\n\"I'll come some day,\" he said. \"But women, my boy, they're the pivot\neverything turns upon. Things are in a bad way with me, very bad. And\nit's all through women. Tell me frankly now,\" he pursued, picking up a\ncigar and keeping one hand on his glass; \"give me your advice.\"\n\n\"Why, what is it?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you. Suppose you're married, you love your wife, but you're\nfascinated by another woman...\"\n\n\"Excuse me, but I'm absolutely unable to comprehend how ... just as I\ncan't comprehend how I could now, after my dinner, go straight to a\nbaker's shop and steal a roll.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch's eyes sparkled more than usual.\n\n\"Why not? A roll will sometimes smell so good one can't resist it.\"\n\n \"Himmlisch ist's, wenn ich bezwungen\n Meine irdische Begier;\n Aber doch wenn's nich gelungen\n Hatt' ich auch recht huebsch Plaisir!\"\n\nAs he said this, Stepan Arkadyevitch smiled subtly. Levin, too, could\nnot help smiling.\n\n\"Yes, but joking apart,\" resumed Stepan Arkadyevitch, \"you must\nunderstand that the woman is a sweet, gentle loving creature, poor and\nlonely, and has sacrificed everything. Now, when the thing's done, don't\nyou see, can one possibly cast her off? Even supposing one parts from\nher, so as not to break up one's family life, still, can one help\nfeeling for her, setting her on her feet, softening her lot?\"\n\n\"Well, you must excuse me there. You know to me all women are divided\ninto two classes ... at least no ... truer to say: there are women and\nthere are ... I've never seen exquisite fallen beings, and I never shall\nsee them, but such creatures as that painted Frenchwoman at the counter\nwith the ringlets are vermin to my mind, and all fallen women are the\nsame.\"\n\n\"But the Magdalen?\"\n\n\"Ah, drop that! Christ would never have said those words if He had known\nhow they would be abused. Of all the Gospel those words are the only\nones remembered. However, I'm not saying so much what I think, as what I\nfeel. I have a loathing for fallen women. You're afraid of spiders, and\nI of these vermin. Most likely you've not made a study of spiders and\ndon't know their character; and so it is with me.\"\n\n\"It's very well for you to talk like that; it's very much like that\ngentleman in Dickens who used to fling all difficult questions over his\nright shoulder. But to deny the facts is no answer. What's to be\ndone--you tell me that, what's to be done? Your wife gets older, while\nyou're full of life. Before you've time to look round, you feel that you\ncan't love your wife with love, however much you may esteem her. And\nthen all at once love turns up, and you're done for, done for,\" Stepan\nArkadyevitch said with weary despair.\n\nLevin half smiled.\n\n\"Yes, you're done for,\" resumed Oblonsky. \"But what's to be done?\"\n\n\"Don't steal rolls.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch laughed outright.\n\n\"Oh, moralist! But you must understand, there are two women; one insists\nonly on her rights, and those rights are your love, which you can't give\nher; and the other sacrifices everything for you and asks for nothing.\nWhat are you to do? How are you to act? There's a fearful tragedy in\nit.\"\n\n\"If you care for my profession of faith as regards that, I'll tell you\nthat I don't believe there was any tragedy about it. And this is why. To\nmy mind, love ... both the sorts of love, which you remember Plato\ndefines in his Banquet, served as the test of men. Some men only\nunderstand one sort, and some only the other. And those who only know\nthe non-platonic love have no need to talk of tragedy. In such love\nthere can be no sort of tragedy. 'I'm much obliged for the\ngratification, my humble respects'--that's all the tragedy. And in\nplatonic love there can be no tragedy, because in that love all is clear\nand pure, because...\"\n\nAt that instant Levin recollected his own sins and the inner conflict he\nhad lived through. And he added unexpectedly:\n\n\"But perhaps you are right. Very likely ... I don't know, I don't know.\"\n\n\"It's this, don't you see,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, \"you're very much\nall of a piece. That's your strong point and your failing. You have a\ncharacter that's all of a piece, and you want the whole of life to be of\na piece too--but that's not how it is. You despise public official work\nbecause you want the reality to be invariably corresponding all the\nwhile with the aim--and that's not how it is. You want a man's work,\ntoo, always to have a defined aim, and love and family life always to be\nundivided--and that's not how it is. All the variety, all the charm, all\nthe beauty of life is made up of light and shadow.\"\n\nLevin sighed and made no reply. He was thinking of his own affairs, and\ndid not hear Oblonsky.\n\nAnd suddenly both of them felt that though they were friends, though\nthey had been dining and drinking together, which should have drawn them\ncloser, yet each was thinking only of his own affairs, and they had\nnothing to do with one another. Oblonsky had more than once experienced\nthis extreme sense of aloofness, instead of intimacy, coming on after\ndinner, and he knew what to do in such cases.\n\n\"Bill!\" he called, and he went into the next room where he promptly came\nacross an aide-de-camp of his acquaintance and dropped into conversation\nwith him about an actress and her protector. And at once in the\nconversation with the aide-de-camp Oblonsky had a sense of relaxation\nand relief after the conversation with Levin, which always put him to\ntoo great a mental and spiritual strain.\n\nWhen the Tatar appeared with a bill for twenty-six roubles and odd\nkopecks, besides a tip for himself, Levin, who would another time have\nbeen horrified, like any one from the country, at his share of fourteen\nroubles, did not notice it, paid, and set off homewards to dress and go\nto the Shtcherbatskys' there to decide his fate.\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\n\nThe young Princess Kitty Shtcherbatskaya was eighteen. It was the first\nwinter that she had been out in the world. Her success in society had\nbeen greater than that of either of her elder sisters, and greater even\nthan her mother had anticipated. To say nothing of the young men who\ndanced at the Moscow balls being almost all in love with Kitty, two\nserious suitors had already this first winter made their appearance:\nLevin, and immediately after his departure, Count Vronsky.\n\nLevin's appearance at the beginning of the winter, his frequent visits,\nand evident love for Kitty, had led to the first serious conversations\nbetween Kitty's parents as to her future, and to disputes between them.\nThe prince was on Levin's side; he said he wished for nothing better for\nKitty. The princess for her part, going round the question in the manner\npeculiar to women, maintained that Kitty was too young, that Levin had\ndone nothing to prove that he had serious intentions, that Kitty felt no\ngreat attraction to him, and other side issues; but she did not state\nthe principal point, which was that she looked for a better match for\nher daughter, and that Levin was not to her liking, and she did not\nunderstand him. When Levin had abruptly departed, the princess was\ndelighted, and said to her husband triumphantly: \"You see I was right.\"\nWhen Vronsky appeared on the scene, she was still more delighted,\nconfirmed in her opinion that Kitty was to make not simply a good, but a\nbrilliant match.\n\nIn the mother's eyes there could be no comparison between Vronsky and\nLevin. She disliked in Levin his strange and uncompromising opinions and\nhis shyness in society, founded, as she supposed, on his pride and his\nqueer sort of life, as she considered it, absorbed in cattle and\npeasants. She did not very much like it that he, who was in love with\nher daughter, had kept coming to the house for six weeks, as though he\nwere waiting for something, inspecting, as though he were afraid he\nmight be doing them too great an honor by making an offer, and did not\nrealize that a man, who continually visits at a house where there is a\nyoung unmarried girl, is bound to make his intentions clear. And\nsuddenly, without doing so, he disappeared. \"It's as well he's not\nattractive enough for Kitty to have fallen in love with him,\" thought\nthe mother.\n\nVronsky satisfied all the mother's desires. Very wealthy, clever, of\naristocratic family, on the highroad to a brilliant career in the army\nand at court, and a fascinating man. Nothing better could be wished for.\n\nVronsky openly flirted with Kitty at balls, danced with her, and came\ncontinually to the house, consequently there could be no doubt of the\nseriousness of his intentions. But, in spite of that, the mother had\nspent the whole of that winter in a state of terrible anxiety and\nagitation.\n\nPrincess Shtcherbatskaya had herself been married thirty years ago, her\naunt arranging the match. Her husband, about whom everything was well\nknown before hand, had come, looked at his future bride, and been looked\nat. The match-making aunt had ascertained and communicated their mutual\nimpression. That impression had been favorable. Afterwards, on a day\nfixed beforehand, the expected offer was made to her parents, and\naccepted. All had passed very simply and easily. So it seemed, at least,\nto the princess. But over her own daughters she had felt how far from\nsimple and easy is the business, apparently so commonplace, of marrying\noff one's daughters. The panics that had been lived through, the\nthoughts that had been brooded over, the money that had been wasted, and\nthe disputes with her husband over marrying the two elder girls, Darya\nand Natalia! Now, since the youngest had come out, she was going through\nthe same terrors, the same doubts, and still more violent quarrels with\nher husband than she had over the elder girls. The old prince, like all\nfathers indeed, was exceedingly punctilious on the score of the honor\nand reputation of his daughters. He was irrationally jealous over his\ndaughters, especially over Kitty, who was his favorite. At every turn he\nhad scenes with the princess for compromising her daughter. The princess\nhad grown accustomed to this already with her other daughters, but now\nshe felt that there was more ground for the prince's touchiness. She saw\nthat of late years much was changed in the manners of society, that a\nmother's duties had become still more difficult. She saw that girls of\nKitty's age formed some sort of clubs, went to some sort of lectures,\nmixed freely in men's society; drove about the streets alone, many of\nthem did not curtsey, and, what was the most important thing, all the\ngirls were firmly convinced that to choose their husbands was their own\naffair, and not their parents'. \"Marriages aren't made nowadays as they\nused to be,\" was thought and said by all these young girls, and even by\ntheir elders. But how marriages were made now, the princess could not\nlearn from any one. The French fashion--of the parents arranging their\nchildren's future--was not accepted; it was condemned. The English\nfashion of the complete independence of girls was also not accepted, and\nnot possible in Russian society. The Russian fashion of match-making by\nthe offices of intermediate persons was for some reason considered\nunseemly; it was ridiculed by every one, and by the princess herself.\nBut how girls were to be married, and how parents were to marry them, no\none knew. Everyone with whom the princess had chanced to discuss the\nmatter said the same thing: \"Mercy on us, it's high time in our day to\ncast off all that old-fashioned business. It's the young people have to\nmarry; and not their parents; and so we ought to leave the young people\nto arrange it as they choose.\" It was very easy for anyone to say that\nwho had no daughters, but the princess realized that in the process of\ngetting to know each other, her daughter might fall in love, and fall in\nlove with someone who did not care to marry her or who was quite unfit\nto be her husband. And, however much it was instilled into the princess\nthat in our times young people ought to arrange their lives for\nthemselves, she was unable to believe it, just as she would have been\nunable to believe that, at any time whatever, the most suitable\nplaythings for children five years old ought to be loaded pistols. And\nso the princess was more uneasy over Kitty than she had been over her\nelder sisters.\n\nNow she was afraid that Vronsky might confine himself to simply flirting\nwith her daughter. She saw that her daughter was in love with him, but\ntried to comfort herself with the thought that he was an honorable man,\nand would not do this. But at the same time she knew how easy it is,\nwith the freedom of manners of today, to turn a girl's head, and how\nlightly men generally regard such a crime. The week before, Kitty had\ntold her mother of a conversation she had with Vronsky during a mazurka.\nThis conversation had partly reassured the princess; but perfectly at\nease she could not be. Vronsky had told Kitty that both he and his\nbrother were so used to obeying their mother that they never made up\ntheir minds to any important undertaking without consulting her. \"And\njust now, I am impatiently awaiting my mother's arrival from Petersburg,\nas peculiarly fortunate,\" he told her.\n\nKitty had repeated this without attaching any significance to the words.\nBut her mother saw them in a different light. She knew that the old lady\nwas expected from day to day, that she would be pleased at her son's\nchoice, and she felt it strange that he should not make his offer\nthrough fear of vexing his mother. However, she was so anxious for the\nmarriage itself, and still more for relief from her fears, that she\nbelieved it was so. Bitter as it was for the princess to see the\nunhappiness of her eldest daughter, Dolly, on the point of leaving her\nhusband, her anxiety over the decision of her youngest daughter's fate\nengrossed all her feelings. Today, with Levin's reappearance, a fresh\nsource of anxiety arose. She was afraid that her daughter, who had at\none time, as she fancied, a feeling for Levin, might, from extreme sense\nof honor, refuse Vronsky, and that Levin's arrival might generally\ncomplicate and delay the affair so near being concluded.\n\n\"Why, has he been here long?\" the princess asked about Levin, as they\nreturned home.\n\n\"He came today, mamma.\"\n\n\"There's one thing I want to say...\" began the princess, and from her\nserious and alert face, Kitty guessed what it would be.\n\n\"Mamma,\" she said, flushing hotly and turning quickly to her, \"please,\nplease don't say anything about that. I know, I know all about it.\"\n\nShe wished for what her mother wished for, but the motives of her\nmother's wishes wounded her.\n\n\"I only want to say that to raise hopes...\"\n\n\"Mamma, darling, for goodness' sake, don't talk about it. It's so\nhorrible to talk about it.\"\n\n\"I won't,\" said her mother, seeing the tears in her daughter's eyes;\n\"but one thing, my love; you promised me you would have no secrets from\nme. You won't?\"\n\n\"Never, mamma, none,\" answered Kitty, flushing a little, and looking her\nmother straight in the face, \"but there's no use in my telling you\nanything, and I ... I ... if I wanted to, I don't know what to say or\nhow ... I don't know...\"\n\n\"No, she could not tell an untruth with those eyes,\" thought the mother,\nsmiling at her agitation and happiness. The princess smiled that what\nwas taking place just now in her soul seemed to the poor child so\nimmense and so important.\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\n\nAfter dinner, and till the beginning of the evening, Kitty was feeling a\nsensation akin to the sensation of a young man before a battle. Her\nheart throbbed violently, and her thoughts would not rest on anything.\n\nShe felt that this evening, when they would both meet for the first\ntime, would be a turning point in her life. And she was continually\npicturing them to herself, at one moment each separately, and then both\ntogether. When she mused on the past, she dwelt with pleasure, with\ntenderness, on the memories of her relations with Levin. The memories of\nchildhood and of Levin's friendship with her dead brother gave a special\npoetic charm to her relations with him. His love for her, of which she\nfelt certain, was flattering and delightful to her; and it was pleasant\nfor her to think of Levin. In her memories of Vronsky there always\nentered a certain element of awkwardness, though he was in the highest\ndegree well-bred and at ease, as though there were some false note--not\nin Vronsky, he was very simple and nice, but in herself, while with\nLevin she felt perfectly simple and clear. But, on the other hand,\ndirectly she thought of the future with Vronsky, there arose before her\na perspective of brilliant happiness; with Levin the future seemed\nmisty.\n\nWhen she went upstairs to dress, and looked into the looking-glass, she\nnoticed with joy that it was one of her good days, and that she was in\ncomplete possession of all her forces,--she needed this so for what lay\nbefore her: she was conscious of external composure and free grace in\nher movements.\n\nAt half-past seven she had only just gone down into the drawing room,\nwhen the footman announced, \"Konstantin Dmitrievitch Levin.\" The\nprincess was still in her room, and the prince had not come in. \"So it\nis to be,\" thought Kitty, and all the blood seemed to rush to her heart.\nShe was horrified at her paleness, as she glanced into the\nlooking-glass. At that moment she knew beyond doubt that he had come\nearly on purpose to find her alone and to make her an offer. And only\nthen for the first time the whole thing presented itself in a new,\ndifferent aspect; only then she realized that the question did not\naffect her only--with whom she would be happy, and whom she loved--but\nthat she would have that moment to wound a man whom she liked. And to\nwound him cruelly. What for? Because he, dear fellow, loved her, was in\nlove with her. But there was no help for it, so it must be, so it would\nhave to be.\n\n\"My God! shall I myself really have to say it to him?\" she thought. \"Can\nI tell him I don't love him? That will be a lie. What am I to say to\nhim? That I love someone else? No, that's impossible. I'm going away,\nI'm going away.\"\n\nShe had reached the door, when she heard his step. \"No! it's not honest.\nWhat have I to be afraid of? I have done nothing wrong. What is to be,\nwill be! I'll tell the truth. And with him one can't be ill at ease.\nHere he is,\" she said to herself, seeing his powerful, shy figure, with\nhis shining eyes fixed on her. She looked straight into his face, as\nthough imploring him to spare her, and gave her hand.\n\n\"It's not time yet; I think I'm too early,\" he said glancing round the\nempty drawing room. When he saw that his expectations were realized,\nthat there was nothing to prevent him from speaking, his face became\ngloomy.\n\n\"Oh, no,\" said Kitty, and sat down at the table.\n\n\"But this was just what I wanted, to find you alone,\" he began, not\nsitting down, and not looking at her, so as not to lose courage.\n\n\"Mamma will be down directly. She was very much tired.... Yesterday...\"\n\nShe talked on, not knowing what her lips were uttering, and not taking\nher supplicating and caressing eyes off him.\n\nHe glanced at her; she blushed, and ceased speaking.\n\n\"I told you I did not know whether I should be here long ... that it\ndepended on you...\"\n\nShe dropped her head lower and lower, not knowing herself what answer\nshe should make to what was coming.\n\n\"That it depended on you,\" he repeated. \"I meant to say ... I meant to\nsay ... I came for this ... to be my wife!\" he brought out, not knowing\nwhat he was saying; but feeling that the most terrible thing was said,\nhe stopped short and looked at her...\n\nShe was breathing heavily, not looking at him. She was feeling ecstasy.\nHer soul was flooded with happiness. She had never anticipated that the\nutterance of love would produce such a powerful effect on her. But it\nlasted only an instant. She remembered Vronsky. She lifted her clear,\ntruthful eyes, and seeing his desperate face, she answered hastily:\n\n\"That cannot be ... forgive me.\"\n\nA moment ago, and how close she had been to him, of what importance in\nhis life! And how aloof and remote from him she had become now!\n\n\"It was bound to be so,\" he said, not looking at her.\n\nHe bowed, and was meaning to retreat.\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\n\nBut at that very moment the princess came in. There was a look of horror\non her face when she saw them alone, and their disturbed faces. Levin\nbowed to her, and said nothing. Kitty did not speak nor lift her eyes.\n\"Thank God, she has refused him,\" thought the mother, and her face\nlighted up with the habitual smile with which she greeted her guests on\nThursdays. She sat down and began questioning Levin about his life in\nthe country. He sat down again, waiting for other visitors to arrive, in\norder to retreat unnoticed.\n\nFive minutes later there came in a friend of Kitty's, married the\npreceding winter, Countess Nordston.\n\nShe was a thin, sallow, sickly, and nervous woman, with brilliant black\neyes. She was fond of Kitty, and her affection for her showed itself, as\nthe affection of married women for girls always does, in the desire to\nmake a match for Kitty after her own ideal of married happiness; she\nwanted her to marry Vronsky. Levin she had often met at the\nShtcherbatskys' early in the winter, and she had always disliked him.\nHer invariable and favorite pursuit, when they met, consisted in making\nfun of him.\n\n\"I do like it when he looks down at me from the height of his grandeur,\nor breaks off his learned conversation with me because I'm a fool, or is\ncondescending to me. I like that so; to see him condescending! I am so\nglad he can't bear me,\" she used to say of him.\n\nShe was right, for Levin actually could not bear her, and despised her\nfor what she was proud of and regarded as a fine characteristic--her\nnervousness, her delicate contempt and indifference for everything\ncoarse and earthly.\n\nThe Countess Nordston and Levin got into that relation with one another\nnot seldom seen in society, when two persons, who remain externally on\nfriendly terms, despise each other to such a degree that they cannot\neven take each other seriously, and cannot even be offended by each\nother.\n\nThe Countess Nordston pounced upon Levin at once.\n\n\"Ah, Konstantin Dmitrievitch! So you've come back to our corrupt\nBabylon,\" she said, giving him her tiny, yellow hand, and recalling what\nhe had chanced to say early in the winter, that Moscow was a Babylon.\n\"Come, is Babylon reformed, or have you degenerated?\" she added,\nglancing with a simper at Kitty.\n\n\"It's very flattering for me, countess, that you remember my words so\nwell,\" responded Levin, who had succeeded in recovering his composure,\nand at once from habit dropped into his tone of joking hostility to the\nCountess Nordston. \"They must certainly make a great impression on you.\"\n\n\"Oh, I should think so! I always note them all down. Well, Kitty, have\nyou been skating again?...\"\n\nAnd she began talking to Kitty. Awkward as it was for Levin to withdraw\nnow, it would still have been easier for him to perpetrate this\nawkwardness than to remain all the evening and see Kitty, who glanced at\nhim now and then and avoided his eyes. He was on the point of getting\nup, when the princess, noticing that he was silent, addressed him.\n\n\"Shall you be long in Moscow? You're busy with the district council,\nthough, aren't you, and can't be away for long?\"\n\n\"No, princess, I'm no longer a member of the council,\" he said. \"I have\ncome up for a few days.\"\n\n\"There's something the matter with him,\" thought Countess Nordston,\nglancing at his stern, serious face. \"He isn't in his old argumentative\nmood. But I'll draw him out. I do love making a fool of him before\nKitty, and I'll do it.\"\n\n\"Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\" she said to him, \"do explain to me, please,\nwhat's the meaning of it. You know all about such things. At home in our\nvillage of Kaluga all the peasants and all the women have drunk up all\nthey possessed, and now they can't pay us any rent. What's the meaning\nof that? You always praise the peasants so.\"\n\nAt that instant another lady came into the room, and Levin got up.\n\n\"Excuse me, countess, but I really know nothing about it, and can't tell\nyou anything,\" he said, and looked round at the officer who came in\nbehind the lady.\n\n\"That must be Vronsky,\" thought Levin, and, to be sure of it, glanced at\nKitty. She had already had time to look at Vronsky, and looked round at\nLevin. And simply from the look in her eyes, that grew unconsciously\nbrighter, Levin knew that she loved that man, knew it as surely as if\nshe had told him so in words. But what sort of a man was he? Now,\nwhether for good or for ill, Levin could not choose but remain; he must\nfind out what the man was like whom she loved.\n\nThere are people who, on meeting a successful rival, no matter in what,\nare at once disposed to turn their backs on everything good in him, and\nto see only what is bad. There are people, on the other hand, who desire\nabove all to find in that lucky rival the qualities by which he has\noutstripped them, and seek with a throbbing ache at heart only what is\ngood. Levin belonged to the second class. But he had no difficulty in\nfinding what was good and attractive in Vronsky. It was apparent at the\nfirst glance. Vronsky was a squarely built, dark man, not very tall,\nwith a good-humored, handsome, and exceedingly calm and resolute face.\nEverything about his face and figure, from his short-cropped black hair\nand freshly shaven chin down to his loosely fitting, brand-new uniform,\nwas simple and at the same time elegant. Making way for the lady who had\ncome in, Vronsky went up to the princess and then to Kitty.\n\nAs he approached her, his beautiful eyes shone with a specially tender\nlight, and with a faint, happy, and modestly triumphant smile (so it\nseemed to Levin), bowing carefully and respectfully over her, he held\nout his small broad hand to her.\n\nGreeting and saying a few words to everyone, he sat down without once\nglancing at Levin, who had never taken his eyes off him.\n\n\"Let me introduce you,\" said the princess, indicating Levin. \"Konstantin\nDmitrievitch Levin, Count Alexey Kirillovitch Vronsky.\"\n\nVronsky got up and, looking cordially at Levin, shook hands with him.\n\n\"I believe I was to have dined with you this winter,\" he said, smiling\nhis simple and open smile; \"but you had unexpectedly left for the\ncountry.\"\n\n\"Konstantin Dmitrievitch despises and hates town and us townspeople,\"\nsaid Countess Nordston.\n\n\"My words must make a deep impression on you, since you remember them so\nwell,\" said Levin, and, suddenly conscious that he had said just the\nsame thing before, he reddened.\n\nVronsky looked at Levin and Countess Nordston, and smiled.\n\n\"Are you always in the country?\" he inquired. \"I should think it must be\ndull in the winter.\"\n\n\"It's not dull if one has work to do; besides, one's not dull by\noneself,\" Levin replied abruptly.\n\n\"I am fond of the country,\" said Vronsky, noticing, and affecting not to\nnotice, Levin's tone.\n\n\"But I hope, count, you would not consent to live in the country\nalways,\" said Countess Nordston.\n\n\"I don't know; I have never tried for long. I experienced a queer\nfeeling once,\" he went on. \"I never longed so for the country, Russian\ncountry, with bast shoes and peasants, as when I was spending a winter\nwith my mother in Nice. Nice itself is dull enough, you know. And\nindeed, Naples and Sorrento are only pleasant for a short time. And it's\njust there that Russia comes back to me most vividly, and especially the\ncountry. It's as though...\"\n\nHe talked on, addressing both Kitty and Levin, turning his serene,\nfriendly eyes from one to the other, and saying obviously just what came\ninto his head.\n\nNoticing that Countess Nordston wanted to say something, he stopped\nshort without finishing what he had begun, and listened attentively to\nher.\n\nThe conversation did not flag for an instant, so that the princess, who\nalways kept in reserve, in case a subject should be lacking, two heavy\nguns--the relative advantages of classical and of modern education, and\nuniversal military service--had not to move out either of them, while\nCountess Nordston had not a chance of chaffing Levin.\n\nLevin wanted to, and could not, take part in the general conversation;\nsaying to himself every instant, \"Now go,\" he still did not go, as\nthough waiting for something.\n\nThe conversation fell upon table-turning and spirits, and Countess\nNordston, who believed in spiritualism, began to describe the marvels\nshe had seen.\n\n\"Ah, countess, you really must take me, for pity's sake do take me to\nsee them! I have never seen anything extraordinary, though I am always\non the lookout for it everywhere,\" said Vronsky, smiling.\n\n\"Very well, next Saturday,\" answered Countess Nordston. \"But you,\nKonstantin Dmitrievitch, do you believe in it?\" she asked Levin.\n\n\"Why do you ask me? You know what I shall say.\"\n\n\"But I want to hear your opinion.\"\n\n\"My opinion,\" answered Levin, \"is only that this table-turning simply\nproves that educated society--so called--is no higher than the peasants.\nThey believe in the evil eye, and in witchcraft and omens, while we...\"\n\n\"Oh, then you don't believe in it?\"\n\n\"I can't believe in it, countess.\"\n\n\"But if I've seen it myself?\"\n\n\"The peasant women too tell us they have seen goblins.\"\n\n\"Then you think I tell a lie?\"\n\nAnd she laughed a mirthless laugh.\n\n\"Oh, no, Masha, Konstantin Dmitrievitch said he could not believe in\nit,\" said Kitty, blushing for Levin, and Levin saw this, and, still more\nexasperated, would have answered, but Vronsky with his bright frank\nsmile rushed to the support of the conversation, which was threatening\nto become disagreeable.\n\n\"You do not admit the conceivability at all?\" he queried. \"But why not?\nWe admit the existence of electricity, of which we know nothing. Why\nshould there not be some new force, still unknown to us, which...\"\n\n\"When electricity was discovered,\" Levin interrupted hurriedly, \"it was\nonly the phenomenon that was discovered, and it was unknown from what it\nproceeded and what were its effects, and ages passed before its\napplications were conceived. But the spiritualists have begun with\ntables writing for them, and spirits appearing to them, and have only\nlater started saying that it is an unknown force.\"\n\nVronsky listened attentively to Levin, as he always did listen,\nobviously interested in his words.\n\n\"Yes, but the spiritualists say we don't know at present what this force\nis, but there is a force, and these are the conditions in which it acts.\nLet the scientific men find out what the force consists in. No, I don't\nsee why there should not be a new force, if it...\"\n\n\"Why, because with electricity,\" Levin interrupted again, \"every time\nyou rub tar against wool, a recognized phenomenon is manifested, but in\nthis case it does not happen every time, and so it follows it is not a\nnatural phenomenon.\"\n\nFeeling probably that the conversation was taking a tone too serious for\na drawing room, Vronsky made no rejoinder, but by way of trying to\nchange the conversation, he smiled brightly, and turned to the ladies.\n\n\"Do let us try at once, countess,\" he said; but Levin would finish\nsaying what he thought.\n\n\"I think,\" he went on, \"that this attempt of the spiritualists to\nexplain their marvels as some sort of new natural force is most futile.\nThey boldly talk of spiritual force, and then try to subject it to\nmaterial experiment.\"\n\nEvery one was waiting for him to finish, and he felt it.\n\n\"And I think you would be a first-rate medium,\" said Countess Nordston;\n\"there's something enthusiastic in you.\"\n\nLevin opened his mouth, was about to say something, reddened, and said\nnothing.\n\n\"Do let us try table-turning at once, please,\" said Vronsky. \"Princess,\nwill you allow it?\"\n\nAnd Vronsky stood up, looking for a little table.\n\nKitty got up to fetch a table, and as she passed, her eyes met Levin's.\nShe felt for him with her whole heart, the more because she was pitying\nhim for suffering of which she was herself the cause. \"If you can\nforgive me, forgive me,\" said her eyes, \"I am so happy.\"\n\n\"I hate them all, and you, and myself,\" his eyes responded, and he took\nup his hat. But he was not destined to escape. Just as they were\narranging themselves round the table, and Levin was on the point of\nretiring, the old prince came in, and after greeting the ladies,\naddressed Levin.\n\n\"Ah!\" he began joyously. \"Been here long, my boy? I didn't even know you\nwere in town. Very glad to see you.\" The old prince embraced Levin, and\ntalking to him did not observe Vronsky, who had risen, and was serenely\nwaiting till the prince should turn to him.\n\nKitty felt how distasteful her father's warmth was to Levin after what\nhad happened. She saw, too, how coldly her father responded at last to\nVronsky's bow, and how Vronsky looked with amiable perplexity at her\nfather, as though trying and failing to understand how and why anyone\ncould be hostilely disposed towards him, and she flushed.\n\n\"Prince, let us have Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\" said Countess Nordston;\n\"we want to try an experiment.\"\n\n\"What experiment? Table-turning? Well, you must excuse me, ladies and\ngentlemen, but to my mind it is better fun to play the ring game,\" said\nthe old prince, looking at Vronsky, and guessing that it had been his\nsuggestion. \"There's some sense in that, anyway.\"\n\nVronsky looked wonderingly at the prince with his resolute eyes, and,\nwith a faint smile, began immediately talking to Countess Nordston of\nthe great ball that was to come off next week.\n\n\"I hope you will be there?\" he said to Kitty. As soon as the old prince\nturned away from him, Levin went out unnoticed, and the last impression\nhe carried away with him of that evening was the smiling, happy face of\nKitty answering Vronsky's inquiry about the ball.\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\n\nAt the end of the evening Kitty told her mother of her conversation with\nLevin, and in spite of all the pity she felt for Levin, she was glad at\nthe thought that she had received an _offer_. She had no doubt that she\nhad acted rightly. But after she had gone to bed, for a long while she\ncould not sleep. One impression pursued her relentlessly. It was Levin's\nface, with his scowling brows, and his kind eyes looking out in dark\ndejection below them, as he stood listening to her father, and glancing\nat her and at Vronsky. And she felt so sorry for him that tears came\ninto her eyes. But immediately she thought of the man for whom she had\ngiven him up. She vividly recalled his manly, resolute face, his noble\nself-possession, and the good nature conspicuous in everything towards\neveryone. She remembered the love for her of the man she loved, and once\nmore all was gladness in her soul, and she lay on the pillow, smiling\nwith happiness. \"I'm sorry, I'm sorry; but what could I do? It's not my\nfault,\" she said to herself; but an inner voice told her something else.\nWhether she felt remorse at having won Levin's love, or at having\nrefused him, she did not know. But her happiness was poisoned by doubts.\n\"Lord, have pity on us; Lord, have pity on us; Lord, have pity on us!\"\nshe repeated to herself, till she fell asleep.\n\nMeanwhile there took place below, in the prince's little library, one of\nthe scenes so often repeated between the parents on account of their\nfavorite daughter.\n\n\"What? I'll tell you what!\" shouted the prince, waving his arms, and at\nonce wrapping his squirrel-lined dressing-gown round him again. \"That\nyou've no pride, no dignity; that you're disgracing, ruining your\ndaughter by this vulgar, stupid match-making!\"\n\n\"But, really, for mercy's sake, prince, what have I done?\" said the\nprincess, almost crying.\n\nShe, pleased and happy after her conversation with her daughter, had\ngone to the prince to say good-night as usual, and though she had no\nintention of telling him of Levin's offer and Kitty's refusal, still she\nhinted to her husband that she fancied things were practically settled\nwith Vronsky, and that he would declare himself so soon as his mother\narrived. And thereupon, at those words, the prince had all at once flown\ninto a passion, and began to use unseemly language.\n\n\"What have you done? I'll tell you what. First of all, you're trying to\ncatch an eligible gentleman, and all Moscow will be talking of it, and\nwith good reason. If you have evening parties, invite everyone, don't\npick out the possible suitors. Invite all the young bucks. Engage a\npiano player, and let them dance, and not as you do things nowadays,\nhunting up good matches. It makes me sick, sick to see it, and you've\ngone on till you've turned the poor wench's head. Levin's a thousand\ntimes the better man. As for this little Petersburg swell, they're\nturned out by machinery, all on one pattern, and all precious rubbish.\nBut if he were a prince of the blood, my daughter need not run after\nanyone.\"\n\n\"But what have I done?\"\n\n\"Why, you've...\" The prince was crying wrathfully.\n\n\"I know if one were to listen to you,\" interrupted the princess, \"we\nshould never marry our daughter. If it's to be so, we'd better go into\nthe country.\"\n\n\"Well, and we had better.\"\n\n\"But do wait a minute. Do I try and catch them? I don't try to catch\nthem in the least. A young man, and a very nice one, has fallen in love\nwith her, and she, I fancy...\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, you fancy! And how if she really is in love, and he's no more\nthinking of marriage than I am!... Oh, that I should live to see it! Ah!\nspiritualism! Ah! Nice! Ah! the ball!\" And the prince, imagining that he\nwas mimicking his wife, made a mincing curtsey at each word. \"And this\nis how we're preparing wretchedness for Kitty; and she's really got the\nnotion into her head...\"\n\n\"But what makes you suppose so?\"\n\n\"I don't suppose; I know. We have eyes for such things, though\nwomen-folk haven't. I see a man who has serious intentions, that's\nLevin: and I see a peacock, like this feather-head, who's only amusing\nhimself.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, when once you get an idea into your head!...\"\n\n\"Well, you'll remember my words, but too late, just as with Dolly.\"\n\n\"Well, well, we won't talk of it,\" the princess stopped him,\nrecollecting her unlucky Dolly.\n\n\"By all means, and good night!\"\n\nAnd signing each other with the cross, the husband and wife parted with\na kiss, feeling that they each remained of their own opinion.\n\nThe princess had at first been quite certain that that evening had\nsettled Kitty's future, and that there could be no doubt of Vronsky's\nintentions, but her husband's words had disturbed her. And returning to\nher own room, in terror before the unknown future, she, too, like Kitty,\nrepeated several times in her heart, \"Lord, have pity; Lord, have pity;\nLord, have pity.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\n\nVronsky had never had a real home life. His mother had been in her youth\na brilliant society woman, who had had during her married life, and\nstill more afterwards, many love affairs notorious in the whole\nfashionable world. His father he scarcely remembered, and he had been\neducated in the Corps of Pages.\n\nLeaving the school very young as a brilliant officer, he had at once got\ninto the circle of wealthy Petersburg army men. Although he did go more\nor less into Petersburg society, his love affairs had always hitherto\nbeen outside it.\n\nIn Moscow he had for the first time felt, after his luxurious and coarse\nlife at Petersburg, all the charm of intimacy with a sweet and innocent\ngirl of his own rank, who cared for him. It never even entered his head\nthat there could be any harm in his relations with Kitty. At balls he\ndanced principally with her. He was a constant visitor at their house.\nHe talked to her as people commonly do talk in society--all sorts of\nnonsense, but nonsense to which he could not help attaching a special\nmeaning in her case. Although he said nothing to her that he could not\nhave said before everybody, he felt that she was becoming more and more\ndependent upon him, and the more he felt this, the better he liked it,\nand the tenderer was his feeling for her. He did not know that his mode\nof behavior in relation to Kitty had a definite character, that it is\ncourting young girls with no intention of marriage, and that such\ncourting is one of the evil actions common among brilliant young men\nsuch as he was. It seemed to him that he was the first who had\ndiscovered this pleasure, and he was enjoying his discovery.\n\nIf he could have heard what her parents were saying that evening, if he\ncould have put himself at the point of view of the family and have heard\nthat Kitty would be unhappy if he did not marry her, he would have been\ngreatly astonished, and would not have believed it. He could not believe\nthat what gave such great and delicate pleasure to him, and above all to\nher, could be wrong. Still less could he have believed that he ought to\nmarry.\n\nMarriage had never presented itself to him as a possibility. He not only\ndisliked family life, but a family, and especially a husband was, in\naccordance with the views general in the bachelor world in which he\nlived, conceived as something alien, repellant, and, above all,\nridiculous.\n\nBut though Vronsky had not the least suspicion what the parents were\nsaying, he felt on coming away from the Shtcherbatskys' that the secret\nspiritual bond which existed between him and Kitty had grown so much\nstronger that evening that some step must be taken. But what step could\nand ought to be taken he could not imagine.\n\n\"What is so exquisite,\" he thought, as he returned from the\nShtcherbatskys', carrying away with him, as he always did, a delicious\nfeeling of purity and freshness, arising partly from the fact that he\nhad not been smoking for a whole evening, and with it a new feeling of\ntenderness at her love for him--\"what is so exquisite is that not a word\nhas been said by me or by her, but we understand each other so well in\nthis unseen language of looks and tones, that this evening more clearly\nthan ever she told me she loves me. And how secretly, simply, and most\nof all, how trustfully! I feel myself better, purer. I feel that I have\na heart, and that there is a great deal of good in me. Those sweet,\nloving eyes! When she said: 'Indeed I do...'\n\n\"Well, what then? Oh, nothing. It's good for me, and good for her.\" And\nhe began wondering where to finish the evening.\n\nHe passed in review of the places he might go to. \"Club? a game of\nbezique, champagne with Ignatov? No, I'm not going. _Chateau des\nFleurs_; there I shall find Oblonsky, songs, the cancan. No, I'm sick of\nit. That's why I like the Shtcherbatskys', that I'm growing better. I'll\ngo home.\" He went straight to his room at Dussot's Hotel, ordered\nsupper, and then undressed, and as soon as his head touched the pillow,\nfell into a sound sleep.\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\n\nNext day at eleven o'clock in the morning Vronsky drove to the station\nof the Petersburg railway to meet his mother, and the first person he\ncame across on the great flight of steps was Oblonsky, who was expecting\nhis sister by the same train.\n\n\"Ah! your excellency!\" cried Oblonsky, \"whom are you meeting?\"\n\n\"My mother,\" Vronsky responded, smiling, as everyone did who met\nOblonsky. He shook hands with him, and together they ascended the steps.\n\"She is to be here from Petersburg today.\"\n\n\"I was looking out for you till two o'clock last night. Where did you go\nafter the Shtcherbatskys'?\"\n\n\"Home,\" answered Vronsky. \"I must own I felt so well content yesterday\nafter the Shtcherbatskys' that I didn't care to go anywhere.\"\n\n \"I know a gallant steed by tokens sure,\n And by his eyes I know a youth in love,\"\n\ndeclaimed Stepan Arkadyevitch, just as he had done before to Levin.\n\nVronsky smiled with a look that seemed to say that he did not deny it,\nbut he promptly changed the subject.\n\n\"And whom are you meeting?\" he asked.\n\n\"I? I've come to meet a pretty woman,\" said Oblonsky.\n\n\"You don't say so!\"\n\n\"_Honi soit qui mal y pense!_ My sister Anna.\"\n\n\"Ah! that's Madame Karenina,\" said Vronsky.\n\n\"You know her, no doubt?\"\n\n\"I think I do. Or perhaps not ... I really am not sure,\" Vronsky\nanswered heedlessly, with a vague recollection of something stiff and\ntedious evoked by the name Karenina.\n\n\"But Alexey Alexandrovitch, my celebrated brother-in-law, you surely\nmust know. All the world knows him.\"\n\n\"I know him by reputation and by sight. I know that he's clever,\nlearned, religious somewhat.... But you know that's not ... _not in my\nline,_\" said Vronsky in English.\n\n\"Yes, he's a very remarkable man; rather a conservative, but a splendid\nman,\" observed Stepan Arkadyevitch, \"a splendid man.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, so much the better for him,\" said Vronsky smiling. \"Oh,\nyou've come,\" he said, addressing a tall old footman of his mother's,\nstanding at the door; \"come here.\"\n\nBesides the charm Oblonsky had in general for everyone, Vronsky had felt\nof late specially drawn to him by the fact that in his imagination he\nwas associated with Kitty.\n\n\"Well, what do you say? Shall we give a supper on Sunday for the\n_diva?_\" he said to him with a smile, taking his arm.\n\n\"Of course. I'm collecting subscriptions. Oh, did you make the\nacquaintance of my friend Levin?\" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"Yes; but he left rather early.\"\n\n\"He's a capital fellow,\" pursued Oblonsky. \"Isn't he?\"\n\n\"I don't know why it is,\" responded Vronsky, \"in all Moscow\npeople--present company of course excepted,\" he put in jestingly,\n\"there's something uncompromising. They are all on the defensive, lose\ntheir tempers, as though they all want to make one feel something...\"\n\n\"Yes, that's true, it is so,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, laughing\ngood-humoredly.\n\n\"Will the train soon be in?\" Vronsky asked a railway official.\n\n\"The train's signaled,\" answered the man.\n\nThe approach of the train was more and more evident by the preparatory\nbustle in the station, the rush of porters, the movement of policemen\nand attendants, and people meeting the train. Through the frosty vapor\ncould be seen workmen in short sheepskins and soft felt boots crossing\nthe rails of the curving line. The hiss of the boiler could be heard on\nthe distant rails, and the rumble of something heavy.\n\n\"No,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, who felt a great inclination to tell\nVronsky of Levin's intentions in regard to Kitty. \"No, you've not got a\ntrue impression of Levin. He's a very nervous man, and is sometimes out\nof humor, it's true, but then he is often very nice. He's such a true,\nhonest nature, and a heart of gold. But yesterday there were special\nreasons,\" pursued Stepan Arkadyevitch, with a meaning smile, totally\noblivious of the genuine sympathy he had felt the day before for his\nfriend, and feeling the same sympathy now, only for Vronsky. \"Yes, there\nwere reasons why he could not help being either particularly happy or\nparticularly unhappy.\"\n\nVronsky stood still and asked directly: \"How so? Do you mean he made\nyour _belle-soeur_ an offer yesterday?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"I fancied something of the sort\nyesterday. Yes, if he went away early, and was out of humor too, it must\nmean it.... He's been so long in love, and I'm very sorry for him.\"\n\n\"So that's it! I should imagine, though, she might reckon on a better\nmatch,\" said Vronsky, drawing himself up and walking about again,\n\"though I don't know him, of course,\" he added. \"Yes, that is a hateful\nposition! That's why most fellows prefer to have to do with Klaras. If\nyou don't succeed with them it only proves that you've not enough cash,\nbut in this case one's dignity's at stake. But here's the train.\"\n\nThe engine had already whistled in the distance. A few instants later\nthe platform was quivering, and with puffs of steam hanging low in the\nair from the frost, the engine rolled up, with the lever of the middle\nwheel rhythmically moving up and down, and the stooping figure of the\nengine-driver covered with frost. Behind the tender, setting the\nplatform more and more slowly swaying, came the luggage van with a dog\nwhining in it. At last the passenger carriages rolled in, oscillating\nbefore coming to a standstill.\n\nA smart guard jumped out, giving a whistle, and after him one by one the\nimpatient passengers began to get down: an officer of the guards,\nholding himself erect, and looking severely about him; a nimble little\nmerchant with a satchel, smiling gaily; a peasant with a sack over his\nshoulder.\n\nVronsky, standing beside Oblonsky, watched the carriages and the\npassengers, totally oblivious of his mother. What he had just heard\nabout Kitty excited and delighted him. Unconsciously he arched his\nchest, and his eyes flashed. He felt himself a conqueror.\n\n\"Countess Vronskaya is in that compartment,\" said the smart guard, going\nup to Vronsky.\n\nThe guard's words roused him, and forced him to think of his mother and\nhis approaching meeting with her. He did not in his heart respect his\nmother, and without acknowledging it to himself, he did not love her,\nthough in accordance with the ideas of the set in which he lived, and\nwith his own education, he could not have conceived of any behavior to\nhis mother not in the highest degree respectful and obedient, and the\nmore externally obedient and respectful his behavior, the less in his\nheart he respected and loved her.\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\n\nVronsky followed the guard to the carriage, and at the door of the\ncompartment he stopped short to make room for a lady who was getting\nout.\n\nWith the insight of a man of the world, from one glance at this lady's\nappearance Vronsky classified her as belonging to the best society. He\nbegged pardon, and was getting into the carriage, but felt he must\nglance at her once more; not that she was very beautiful, not on account\nof the elegance and modest grace which were apparent in her whole\nfigure, but because in the expression of her charming face, as she\npassed close by him, there was something peculiarly caressing and soft.\nAs he looked round, she too turned her head. Her shining gray eyes, that\nlooked dark from the thick lashes, rested with friendly attention on his\nface, as though she were recognizing him, and then promptly turned away\nto the passing crowd, as though seeking someone. In that brief look\nVronsky had time to notice the suppressed eagerness which played over\nher face, and flitted between the brilliant eyes and the faint smile\nthat curved her red lips. It was as though her nature were so brimming\nover with something that against her will it showed itself now in the\nflash of her eyes, and now in her smile. Deliberately she shrouded the\nlight in her eyes, but it shone against her will in the faintly\nperceptible smile.\n\nVronsky stepped into the carriage. His mother, a dried-up old lady with\nblack eyes and ringlets, screwed up her eyes, scanning her son, and\nsmiled slightly with her thin lips. Getting up from the seat and handing\nher maid a bag, she gave her little wrinkled hand to her son to kiss,\nand lifting his head from her hand, kissed him on the cheek.\n\n\"You got my telegram? Quite well? Thank God.\"\n\n\"You had a good journey?\" said her son, sitting down beside her, and\ninvoluntarily listening to a woman's voice outside the door. He knew it\nwas the voice of the lady he had met at the door.\n\n\"All the same I don't agree with you,\" said the lady's voice.\n\n\"It's the Petersburg view, madame.\"\n\n\"Not Petersburg, but simply feminine,\" she responded.\n\n\"Well, well, allow me to kiss your hand.\"\n\n\"Good-bye, Ivan Petrovitch. And could you see if my brother is here, and\nsend him to me?\" said the lady in the doorway, and stepped back again\ninto the compartment.\n\n\"Well, have you found your brother?\" said Countess Vronskaya, addressing\nthe lady.\n\nVronsky understood now that this was Madame Karenina.\n\n\"Your brother is here,\" he said, standing up. \"Excuse me, I did not know\nyou, and, indeed, our acquaintance was so slight,\" said Vronsky, bowing,\n\"that no doubt you do not remember me.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" said she, \"I should have known you because your mother and I\nhave been talking, I think, of nothing but you all the way.\" As she\nspoke she let the eagerness that would insist on coming out show itself\nin her smile. \"And still no sign of my brother.\"\n\n\"Do call him, Alexey,\" said the old countess. Vronsky stepped out onto\nthe platform and shouted:\n\n\"Oblonsky! Here!\"\n\nMadame Karenina, however, did not wait for her brother, but catching\nsight of him she stepped out with her light, resolute step. And as soon\nas her brother had reached her, with a gesture that struck Vronsky by\nits decision and its grace, she flung her left arm around his neck, drew\nhim rapidly to her, and kissed him warmly. Vronsky gazed, never taking\nhis eyes from her, and smiled, he could not have said why. But\nrecollecting that his mother was waiting for him, he went back again\ninto the carriage.\n\n\"She's very sweet, isn't she?\" said the countess of Madame Karenina.\n\"Her husband put her with me, and I was delighted to have her. We've\nbeen talking all the way. And so you, I hear ... _vous filez le parfait\namour. Tant mieux, mon cher, tant mieux._\"\n\n\"I don't know what you are referring to, maman,\" he answered coldly.\n\"Come, maman, let us go.\"\n\nMadame Karenina entered the carriage again to say good-bye to the\ncountess.\n\n\"Well, countess, you have met your son, and I my brother,\" she said.\n\"And all my gossip is exhausted. I should have nothing more to tell\nyou.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" said the countess, taking her hand. \"I could go all around the\nworld with you and never be dull. You are one of those delightful women\nin whose company it's sweet to be silent as well as to talk. Now please\ndon't fret over your son; you can't expect never to be parted.\"\n\nMadame Karenina stood quite still, holding herself very erect, and her\neyes were smiling.\n\n\"Anna Arkadyevna,\" the countess said in explanation to her son, \"has a\nlittle son eight years old, I believe, and she has never been parted\nfrom him before, and she keeps fretting over leaving him.\"\n\n\"Yes, the countess and I have been talking all the time, I of my son and\nshe of hers,\" said Madame Karenina, and again a smile lighted up her\nface, a caressing smile intended for him.\n\n\"I am afraid that you must have been dreadfully bored,\" he said,\npromptly catching the ball of coquetry she had flung him. But apparently\nshe did not care to pursue the conversation in that strain, and she\nturned to the old countess.\n\n\"Thank you so much. The time has passed so quickly. Good-bye, countess.\"\n\n\"Good-bye, my love,\" answered the countess. \"Let me have a kiss of your\npretty face. I speak plainly, at my age, and I tell you simply that I've\nlost my heart to you.\"\n\nStereotyped as the phrase was, Madame Karenina obviously believed it and\nwas delighted by it. She flushed, bent down slightly, and put her cheek\nto the countess's lips, drew herself up again, and with the same smile\nfluttering between her lips and her eyes, she gave her hand to Vronsky.\nHe pressed the little hand she gave him, and was delighted, as though at\nsomething special, by the energetic squeeze with which she freely and\nvigorously shook his hand. She went out with the rapid step which bore\nher rather fully-developed figure with such strange lightness.\n\n\"Very charming,\" said the countess.\n\nThat was just what her son was thinking. His eyes followed her till her\ngraceful figure was out of sight, and then the smile remained on his\nface. He saw out of the window how she went up to her brother, put her\narm in his, and began telling him something eagerly, obviously something\nthat had nothing to do with him, Vronsky, and at that he felt annoyed.\n\n\"Well, maman, are you perfectly well?\" he repeated, turning to his\nmother.\n\n\"Everything has been delightful. Alexander has been very good, and Marie\nhas grown very pretty. She's very interesting.\"\n\nAnd she began telling him again of what interested her most--the\nchristening of her grandson, for which she had been staying in\nPetersburg, and the special favor shown her elder son by the Tsar.\n\n\"Here's Lavrenty,\" said Vronsky, looking out of the window; \"now we can\ngo, if you like.\"\n\nThe old butler who had traveled with the countess, came to the carriage\nto announce that everything was ready, and the countess got up to go.\n\n\"Come; there's not such a crowd now,\" said Vronsky.\n\nThe maid took a handbag and the lap dog, the butler and a porter the\nother baggage. Vronsky gave his mother his arm; but just as they were\ngetting out of the carriage several men ran suddenly by with\npanic-stricken faces. The station-master, too, ran by in his\nextraordinary colored cap. Obviously something unusual had happened. The\ncrowd who had left the train were running back again.\n\n\"What?... What?... Where?... Flung himself!... Crushed!...\" was heard\namong the crowd. Stepan Arkadyevitch, with his sister on his arm, turned\nback. They too looked scared, and stopped at the carriage door to avoid\nthe crowd.\n\nThe ladies got in, while Vronsky and Stepan Arkadyevitch followed the\ncrowd to find out details of the disaster.\n\nA guard, either drunk or too much muffled up in the bitter frost, had\nnot heard the train moving back, and had been crushed.\n\nBefore Vronsky and Oblonsky came back the ladies heard the facts from\nthe butler.\n\nOblonsky and Vronsky had both seen the mutilated corpse. Oblonsky was\nevidently upset. He frowned and seemed ready to cry.\n\n\"Ah, how awful! Ah, Anna, if you had seen it! Ah, how awful!\" he said.\n\nVronsky did not speak; his handsome face was serious, but perfectly\ncomposed.\n\n\"Oh, if you had seen it, countess,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"And his\nwife was there.... It was awful to see her!.... She flung herself on the\nbody. They say he was the only support of an immense family. How awful!\"\n\n\"Couldn't one do anything for her?\" said Madame Karenina in an agitated\nwhisper.\n\nVronsky glanced at her, and immediately got out of the carriage.\n\n\"I'll be back directly, maman,\" he remarked, turning round in the\ndoorway.\n\nWhen he came back a few minutes later, Stepan Arkadyevitch was already\nin conversation with the countess about the new singer, while the\ncountess was impatiently looking towards the door, waiting for her son.\n\n\"Now let us be off,\" said Vronsky, coming in. They went out together.\nVronsky was in front with his mother. Behind walked Madame Karenina with\nher brother. Just as they were going out of the station the\nstation-master overtook Vronsky.\n\n\"You gave my assistant two hundred roubles. Would you kindly explain for\nwhose benefit you intend them?\"\n\n\"For the widow,\" said Vronsky, shrugging his shoulders. \"I should have\nthought there was no need to ask.\"\n\n\"You gave that?\" cried Oblonsky, behind, and, pressing his sister's\nhand, he added: \"Very nice, very nice! Isn't he a splendid fellow?\nGood-bye, countess.\"\n\nAnd he and his sister stood still, looking for her maid.\n\nWhen they went out the Vronsky's carriage had already driven away.\nPeople coming in were still talking of what happened.\n\n\"What a horrible death!\" said a gentleman, passing by. \"They say he was\ncut in two pieces.\"\n\n\"On the contrary, I think it's the easiest--instantaneous,\" observed\nanother.\n\n\"How is it they don't take proper precautions?\" said a third.\n\nMadame Karenina seated herself in the carriage, and Stepan Arkadyevitch\nsaw with surprise that her lips were quivering, and she was with\ndifficulty restraining her tears.\n\n\"What is it, Anna?\" he asked, when they had driven a few hundred yards.\n\n\"It's an omen of evil,\" she said.\n\n\"What nonsense!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"You've come, that's the\nchief thing. You can't conceive how I'm resting my hopes on you.\"\n\n\"Have you known Vronsky long?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes. You know we're hoping he will marry Kitty.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" said Anna softly. \"Come now, let us talk of you,\" she added,\ntossing her head, as though she would physically shake off something\nsuperfluous oppressing her. \"Let us talk of your affairs. I got your\nletter, and here I am.\"\n\n\"Yes, all my hopes are in you,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"Well, tell me all about it.\"\n\nAnd Stepan Arkadyevitch began to tell his story.\n\nOn reaching home Oblonsky helped his sister out, sighed, pressed her\nhand, and set off to his office.\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\n\nWhen Anna went into the room, Dolly was sitting in the little\ndrawing-room with a white-headed fat little boy, already like his\nfather, giving him a lesson in French reading. As the boy read, he kept\ntwisting and trying to tear off a button that was nearly off his jacket.\nHis mother had several times taken his hand from it, but the fat little\nhand went back to the button again. His mother pulled the button off and\nput it in her pocket.\n\n\"Keep your hands still, Grisha,\" she said, and she took up her work, a\ncoverlet she had long been making. She always set to work on it at\ndepressed moments, and now she knitted at it nervously, twitching her\nfingers and counting the stitches. Though she had sent word the day\nbefore to her husband that it was nothing to her whether his sister came\nor not, she had made everything ready for her arrival, and was expecting\nher sister-in-law with emotion.\n\nDolly was crushed by her sorrow, utterly swallowed up by it. Still she\ndid not forget that Anna, her sister-in-law, was the wife of one of the\nmost important personages in Petersburg, and was a Petersburg _grande\ndame_. And, thanks to this circumstance, she did not carry out her\nthreat to her husband--that is to say, she remembered that her\nsister-in-law was coming. \"And, after all, Anna is in no wise to blame,\"\nthought Dolly. \"I know nothing of her except the very best, and I have\nseen nothing but kindness and affection from her towards myself.\" It was\ntrue that as far as she could recall her impressions at Petersburg at\nthe Karenins', she did not like their household itself; there was\nsomething artificial in the whole framework of their family life. \"But\nwhy should I not receive her? If only she doesn't take it into her head\nto console me!\" thought Dolly. \"All consolation and counsel and\nChristian forgiveness, all that I have thought over a thousand times,\nand it's all no use.\"\n\nAll these days Dolly had been alone with her children. She did not want\nto talk of her sorrow, but with that sorrow in her heart she could not\ntalk of outside matters. She knew that in one way or another she would\ntell Anna everything, and she was alternately glad at the thought of\nspeaking freely, and angry at the necessity of speaking of her\nhumiliation with her, his sister, and of hearing her ready-made phrases\nof good advice and comfort. She had been on the lookout for her,\nglancing at her watch every minute, and, as so often happens, let slip\njust that minute when her visitor arrived, so that she did not hear the\nbell.\n\nCatching a sound of skirts and light steps at the door, she looked\nround, and her care-worn face unconsciously expressed not gladness, but\nwonder. She got up and embraced her sister-in-law.\n\n\"What, here already!\" she said as she kissed her.\n\n\"Dolly, how glad I am to see you!\"\n\n\"I am glad, too,\" said Dolly, faintly smiling, and trying by the\nexpression of Anna's face to find out whether she knew. \"Most likely she\nknows,\" she thought, noticing the sympathy in Anna's face. \"Well, come\nalong, I'll take you to your room,\" she went on, trying to defer as long\nas possible the moment of confidences.\n\n\"Is this Grisha? Heavens, how he's grown!\" said Anna; and kissing him,\nnever taking her eyes off Dolly, she stood still and flushed a little.\n\"No, please, let us stay here.\"\n\nShe took off her kerchief and her hat, and catching it in a lock of her\nblack hair, which was a mass of curls, she tossed her head and shook her\nhair down.\n\n\"You are radiant with health and happiness!\" said Dolly, almost with\nenvy.\n\n\"I?.... Yes,\" said Anna. \"Merciful heavens, Tanya! You're the same age\nas my Seryozha,\" she added, addressing the little girl as she ran in.\nShe took her in her arms and kissed her. \"Delightful child, delightful!\nShow me them all.\"\n\nShe mentioned them, not only remembering the names, but the years,\nmonths, characters, illnesses of all the children, and Dolly could not\nbut appreciate that.\n\n\"Very well, we will go to them,\" she said. \"It's a pity Vassya's\nasleep.\"\n\nAfter seeing the children, they sat down, alone now, in the drawing\nroom, to coffee. Anna took the tray, and then pushed it away from her.\n\n\"Dolly,\" she said, \"he has told me.\"\n\nDolly looked coldly at Anna; she was waiting now for phrases of\nconventional sympathy, but Anna said nothing of the sort.\n\n\"Dolly, dear,\" she said, \"I don't want to speak for him to you, nor to\ntry to comfort you; that's impossible. But, darling, I'm simply sorry,\nsorry from my heart for you!\"\n\nUnder the thick lashes of her shining eyes tears suddenly glittered. She\nmoved nearer to her sister-in-law and took her hand in her vigorous\nlittle hand. Dolly did not shrink away, but her face did not lose its\nfrigid expression. She said:\n\n\"To comfort me's impossible. Everything's lost after what has happened,\neverything's over!\"\n\nAnd directly she had said this, her face suddenly softened. Anna lifted\nthe wasted, thin hand of Dolly, kissed it and said:\n\n\"But, Dolly, what's to be done, what's to be done? How is it best to act\nin this awful position--that's what you must think of.\"\n\n\"All's over, and there's nothing more,\" said Dolly. \"And the worst of\nall is, you see, that I can't cast him off: there are the children, I am\ntied. And I can't live with him! it's a torture to me to see him.\"\n\n\"Dolly, darling, he has spoken to me, but I want to hear it from you:\ntell me about it.\"\n\nDolly looked at her inquiringly.\n\nSympathy and love unfeigned were visible on Anna's face.\n\n\"Very well,\" she said all at once. \"But I will tell you it from the\nbeginning. You know how I was married. With the education mamma gave us\nI was more than innocent, I was stupid. I knew nothing. I know they say\nmen tell their wives of their former lives, but Stiva\"--she corrected\nherself--\"Stepan Arkadyevitch told me nothing. You'll hardly believe it,\nbut till now I imagined that I was the only woman he had known. So I\nlived eight years. You must understand that I was so far from suspecting\ninfidelity, I regarded it as impossible, and then--try to imagine\nit--with such ideas, to find out suddenly all the horror, all the\nloathsomeness.... You must try and understand me. To be fully convinced\nof one's happiness, and all at once...\" continued Dolly, holding back\nher sobs, \"to get a letter ... his letter to his mistress, my governess.\nNo, it's too awful!\" She hastily pulled out her handkerchief and hid her\nface in it. \"I can understand being carried away by feeling,\" she went\non after a brief silence, \"but deliberately, slyly deceiving me ... and\nwith whom?... To go on being my husband together with her ... it's\nawful! You can't understand...\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, I understand! I understand! Dolly, dearest, I do understand,\"\nsaid Anna, pressing her hand.\n\n\"And do you imagine he realizes all the awfulness of my position?\" Dolly\nresumed. \"Not the slightest! He's happy and contented.\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" Anna interposed quickly. \"He's to be pitied, he's weighed down\nby remorse...\"\n\n\"Is he capable of remorse?\" Dolly interrupted, gazing intently into her\nsister-in-law's face.\n\n\"Yes. I know him. I could not look at him without feeling sorry for him.\nWe both know him. He's good-hearted, but he's proud, and now he's so\nhumiliated. What touched me most...\" (and here Anna guessed what would\ntouch Dolly most) \"he's tortured by two things: that he's ashamed for\nthe children's sake, and that, loving you--yes, yes, loving you beyond\neverything on earth,\" she hurriedly interrupted Dolly, who would have\nanswered--\"he has hurt you, pierced you to the heart. 'No, no, she\ncannot forgive me,' he keeps saying.\"\n\nDolly looked dreamily away beyond her sister-in-law as she listened to\nher words.\n\n\"Yes, I can see that his position is awful; it's worse for the guilty\nthan the innocent,\" she said, \"if he feels that all the misery comes\nfrom his fault. But how am I to forgive him, how am I to be his wife\nagain after her? For me to live with him now would be torture, just\nbecause I love my past love for him...\"\n\nAnd sobs cut short her words. But as though of set design, each time she\nwas softened she began to speak again of what exasperated her.\n\n\"She's young, you see, she's pretty,\" she went on. \"Do you know, Anna,\nmy youth and my beauty are gone, taken by whom? By him and his children.\nI have worked for him, and all I had has gone in his service, and now of\ncourse any fresh, vulgar creature has more charm for him. No doubt they\ntalked of me together, or, worse still, they were silent. Do you\nunderstand?\"\n\nAgain her eyes glowed with hatred.\n\n\"And after that he will tell me.... What! can I believe him? Never! No,\neverything is over, everything that once made my comfort, the reward of\nmy work, and my sufferings.... Would you believe it, I was teaching\nGrisha just now: once this was a joy to me, now it is a torture. What\nhave I to strive and toil for? Why are the children here? What's so\nawful is that all at once my heart's turned, and instead of love and\ntenderness, I have nothing but hatred for him; yes, hatred. I could kill\nhim.\"\n\n\"Darling Dolly, I understand, but don't torture yourself. You are so\ndistressed, so overwrought, that you look at many things mistakenly.\"\n\nDolly grew calmer, and for two minutes both were silent.\n\n\"What's to be done? Think for me, Anna, help me. I have thought over\neverything, and I see nothing.\"\n\nAnna could think of nothing, but her heart responded instantly to each\nword, to each change of expression of her sister-in-law.\n\n\"One thing I would say,\" began Anna. \"I am his sister, I know his\ncharacter, that faculty of forgetting everything, everything\" (she waved\nher hand before her forehead), \"that faculty for being completely\ncarried away, but for completely repenting too. He cannot believe it, he\ncannot comprehend now how he can have acted as he did.\"\n\n\"No; he understands, he understood!\" Dolly broke in. \"But I ... you are\nforgetting me ... does it make it easier for me?\"\n\n\"Wait a minute. When he told me, I will own I did not realize all the\nawfulness of your position. I saw nothing but him, and that the family\nwas broken up. I felt sorry for him, but after talking to you, I see it,\nas a woman, quite differently. I see your agony, and I can't tell you\nhow sorry I am for you! But, Dolly, darling, I fully realize your\nsufferings, only there is one thing I don't know; I don't know ... I\ndon't know how much love there is still in your heart for him. That you\nknow--whether there is enough for you to be able to forgive him. If\nthere is, forgive him!\"\n\n\"No,\" Dolly was beginning, but Anna cut her short, kissing her hand once\nmore.\n\n\"I know more of the world than you do,\" she said. \"I know how men like\nStiva look at it. You speak of his talking of you with her. That never\nhappened. Such men are unfaithful, but their home and wife are sacred to\nthem. Somehow or other these women are still looked on with contempt by\nthem, and do not touch on their feeling for their family. They draw a\nsort of line that can't be crossed between them and their families. I\ndon't understand it, but it is so.\"\n\n\"Yes, but he has kissed her...\"\n\n\"Dolly, hush, darling. I saw Stiva when he was in love with you. I\nremember the time when he came to me and cried, talking of you, and all\nthe poetry and loftiness of his feeling for you, and I know that the\nlonger he has lived with you the loftier you have been in his eyes. You\nknow we have sometimes laughed at him for putting in at every word:\n'Dolly's a marvelous woman.' You have always been a divinity for him,\nand you are that still, and this has not been an infidelity of the\nheart...\"\n\n\"But if it is repeated?\"\n\n\"It cannot be, as I understand it...\"\n\n\"Yes, but could you forgive it?\"\n\n\"I don't know, I can't judge.... Yes, I can,\" said Anna, thinking a\nmoment; and grasping the position in her thought and weighing it in her\ninner balance, she added: \"Yes, I can, I can, I can. Yes, I could\nforgive it. I could not be the same, no; but I could forgive it, and\nforgive it as though it had never been, never been at all...\"\n\n\"Oh, of course,\" Dolly interposed quickly, as though saying what she had\nmore than once thought, \"else it would not be forgiveness. If one\nforgives, it must be completely, completely. Come, let us go; I'll take\nyou to your room,\" she said, getting up, and on the way she embraced\nAnna. \"My dear, how glad I am you came. It has made things better, ever\nso much better.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 20\n\n\nThe whole of that day Anna spent at home, that's to say at the\nOblonskys', and received no one, though some of her acquaintances had\nalready heard of her arrival, and came to call the same day. Anna spent\nthe whole morning with Dolly and the children. She merely sent a brief\nnote to her brother to tell him that he must not fail to dine at home.\n\"Come, God is merciful,\" she wrote.\n\nOblonsky did dine at home: the conversation was general, and his wife,\nspeaking to him, addressed him as \"Stiva,\" as she had not done before.\nIn the relations of the husband and wife the same estrangement still\nremained, but there was no talk now of separation, and Stepan\nArkadyevitch saw the possibility of explanation and reconciliation.\n\nImmediately after dinner Kitty came in. She knew Anna Arkadyevna, but\nonly very slightly, and she came now to her sister's with some\ntrepidation, at the prospect of meeting this fashionable Petersburg\nlady, whom everyone spoke so highly of. But she made a favorable\nimpression on Anna Arkadyevna--she saw that at once. Anna was\nunmistakably admiring her loveliness and her youth: before Kitty knew\nwhere she was she found herself not merely under Anna's sway, but in\nlove with her, as young girls do fall in love with older and married\nwomen. Anna was not like a fashionable lady, nor the mother of a boy of\neight years old. In the elasticity of her movements, the freshness and\nthe unflagging eagerness which persisted in her face, and broke out in\nher smile and her glance, she would rather have passed for a girl of\ntwenty, had it not been for a serious and at times mournful look in her\neyes, which struck and attracted Kitty. Kitty felt that Anna was\nperfectly simple and was concealing nothing, but that she had another\nhigher world of interests inaccessible to her, complex and poetic.\n\nAfter dinner, when Dolly went away to her own room, Anna rose quickly\nand went up to her brother, who was just lighting a cigar.\n\n\"Stiva,\" she said to him, winking gaily, crossing him and glancing\ntowards the door, \"go, and God help you.\"\n\nHe threw down the cigar, understanding her, and departed through the\ndoorway.\n\nWhen Stepan Arkadyevitch had disappeared, she went back to the sofa\nwhere she had been sitting, surrounded by the children. Either because\nthe children saw that their mother was fond of this aunt, or that they\nfelt a special charm in her themselves, the two elder ones, and the\nyounger following their lead, as children so often do, had clung about\ntheir new aunt since before dinner, and would not leave her side. And it\nhad become a sort of game among them to sit a close as possible to their\naunt, to touch her, hold her little hand, kiss it, play with her ring,\nor even touch the flounce of her skirt.\n\n\"Come, come, as we were sitting before,\" said Anna Arkadyevna, sitting\ndown in her place.\n\nAnd again Grisha poked his little face under her arm, and nestled with\nhis head on her gown, beaming with pride and happiness.\n\n\"And when is your next ball?\" she asked Kitty.\n\n\"Next week, and a splendid ball. One of those balls where one always\nenjoys oneself.\"\n\n\"Why, are there balls where one always enjoys oneself?\" Anna said, with\ntender irony.\n\n\"It's strange, but there are. At the Bobrishtchevs' one always enjoys\noneself, and at the Nikitins' too, while at the Mezhkovs' it's always\ndull. Haven't you noticed it?\"\n\n\"No, my dear, for me there are no balls now where one enjoys oneself,\"\nsaid Anna, and Kitty detected in her eyes that mysterious world which\nwas not open to her. \"For me there are some less dull and tiresome.\"\n\n\"How can _you_ be dull at a ball?\"\n\n\"Why should not _I_ be dull at a ball?\" inquired Anna.\n\nKitty perceived that Anna knew what answer would follow.\n\n\"Because you always look nicer than anyone.\"\n\nAnna had the faculty of blushing. She blushed a little, and said:\n\n\"In the first place it's never so; and secondly, if it were, what\ndifference would it make to me?\"\n\n\"Are you coming to this ball?\" asked Kitty.\n\n\"I imagine it won't be possible to avoid going. Here, take it,\" she said\nto Tanya, who was pulling the loosely-fitting ring off her white,\nslender-tipped finger.\n\n\"I shall be so glad if you go. I should so like to see you at a ball.\"\n\n\"Anyway, if I do go, I shall comfort myself with the thought that it's a\npleasure to you ... Grisha, don't pull my hair. It's untidy enough\nwithout that,\" she said, putting up a straying lock, which Grisha had\nbeen playing with.\n\n\"I imagine you at the ball in lilac.\"\n\n\"And why in lilac precisely?\" asked Anna, smiling. \"Now, children, run\nalong, run along. Do you hear? Miss Hoole is calling you to tea,\" she\nsaid, tearing the children from her, and sending them off to the dining\nroom.\n\n\"I know why you press me to come to the ball. You expect a great deal of\nthis ball, and you want everyone to be there to take part in it.\"\n\n\"How do you know? Yes.\"\n\n\"Oh! what a happy time you are at,\" pursued Anna. \"I remember, and I\nknow that blue haze like the mist on the mountains in Switzerland. That\nmist which covers everything in that blissful time when childhood is\njust ending, and out of that vast circle, happy and gay, there is a path\ngrowing narrower and narrower, and it is delightful and alarming to\nenter the ballroom, bright and splendid as it is.... Who has not been\nthrough it?\"\n\nKitty smiled without speaking. \"But how did she go through it? How I\nshould like to know all her love story!\" thought Kitty, recalling the\nunromantic appearance of Alexey Alexandrovitch, her husband.\n\n\"I know something. Stiva told me, and I congratulate you. I liked him so\nmuch,\" Anna continued. \"I met Vronsky at the railway station.\"\n\n\"Oh, was he there?\" asked Kitty, blushing. \"What was it Stiva told you?\"\n\n\"Stiva gossiped about it all. And I should be so glad ... I traveled\nyesterday with Vronsky's mother,\" she went on; \"and his mother talked\nwithout a pause of him, he's her favorite. I know mothers are partial,\nbut...\"\n\n\"What did his mother tell you?\"\n\n\"Oh, a great deal! And I know that he's her favorite; still one can see\nhow chivalrous he is.... Well, for instance, she told me that he had\nwanted to give up all his property to his brother, that he had done\nsomething extraordinary when he was quite a child, saved a woman out of\nthe water. He's a hero, in fact,\" said Anna, smiling and recollecting\nthe two hundred roubles he had given at the station.\n\nBut she did not tell Kitty about the two hundred roubles. For some\nreason it was disagreeable to her to think of it. She felt that there\nwas something that had to do with her in it, and something that ought\nnot to have been.\n\n\"She pressed me very much to go and see her,\" Anna went on; \"and I shall\nbe glad to go to see her tomorrow. Stiva is staying a long while in\nDolly's room, thank God,\" Anna added, changing the subject, and getting\nup, Kitty fancied, displeased with something.\n\n\"No, I'm first! No, I!\" screamed the children, who had finished tea,\nrunning up to their Aunt Anna.\n\n\"All together,\" said Anna, and she ran laughing to meet them, and\nembraced and swung round all the throng of swarming children, shrieking\nwith delight.\n\n\n\nChapter 21\n\n\nDolly came out of her room to the tea of the grown-up people. Stepan\nArkadyevitch did not come out. He must have left his wife's room by the\nother door.\n\n\"I am afraid you'll be cold upstairs,\" observed Dolly, addressing Anna;\n\"I want to move you downstairs, and we shall be nearer.\"\n\n\"Oh, please, don't trouble about me,\" answered Anna, looking intently\ninto Dolly's face, trying to make out whether there had been a\nreconciliation or not.\n\n\"It will be lighter for you here,\" answered her sister-in-law.\n\n\"I assure you that I sleep everywhere, and always like a marmot.\"\n\n\"What's the question?\" inquired Stepan Arkadyevitch, coming out of his\nroom and addressing his wife.\n\nFrom his tone both Kitty and Anna knew that a reconciliation had taken\nplace.\n\n\"I want to move Anna downstairs, but we must hang up blinds. No one\nknows how to do it; I must see to it myself,\" answered Dolly addressing\nhim.\n\n\"God knows whether they are fully reconciled,\" thought Anna, hearing her\ntone, cold and composed.\n\n\"Oh, nonsense, Dolly, always making difficulties,\" answered her husband.\n\"Come, I'll do it all, if you like...\"\n\n\"Yes, they must be reconciled,\" thought Anna.\n\n\"I know how you do everything,\" answered Dolly. \"You tell Matvey to do\nwhat can't be done, and go away yourself, leaving him to make a muddle\nof everything,\" and her habitual, mocking smile curved the corners of\nDolly's lips as she spoke.\n\n\"Full, full reconciliation, full,\" thought Anna; \"thank God!\" and\nrejoicing that she was the cause of it, she went up to Dolly and kissed\nher.\n\n\"Not at all. Why do you always look down on me and Matvey?\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, smiling hardly perceptibly, and addressing his wife.\n\nThe whole evening Dolly was, as always, a little mocking in her tone to\nher husband, while Stepan Arkadyevitch was happy and cheerful, but not\nso as to seem as though, having been forgiven, he had forgotten his\noffense.\n\nAt half-past nine o'clock a particularly joyful and pleasant family\nconversation over the tea-table at the Oblonskys' was broken up by an\napparently simple incident. But this simple incident for some reason\nstruck everyone as strange. Talking about common acquaintances in\nPetersburg, Anna got up quickly.\n\n\"She is in my album,\" she said; \"and, by the way, I'll show you my\nSeryozha,\" she added, with a mother's smile of pride.\n\nTowards ten o'clock, when she usually said good-night to her son, and\noften before going to a ball put him to bed herself, she felt depressed\nat being so far from him; and whatever she was talking about, she kept\ncoming back in thought to her curly-headed Seryozha. She longed to look\nat his photograph and talk of him. Seizing the first pretext, she got\nup, and with her light, resolute step went for her album. The stairs up\nto her room came out on the landing of the great warm main staircase.\n\nJust as she was leaving the drawing room, a ring was heard in the hall.\n\n\"Who can that be?\" said Dolly.\n\n\"It's early for me to be fetched, and for anyone else it's late,\"\nobserved Kitty.\n\n\"Sure to be someone with papers for me,\" put in Stepan Arkadyevitch.\nWhen Anna was passing the top of the staircase, a servant was running up\nto announce the visitor, while the visitor himself was standing under a\nlamp. Anna glancing down at once recognized Vronsky, and a strange\nfeeling of pleasure and at the same time of dread of something stirred\nin her heart. He was standing still, not taking off his coat, pulling\nsomething out of his pocket. At the instant when she was just facing the\nstairs, he raised his eyes, caught sight of her, and into the expression\nof his face there passed a shade of embarrassment and dismay. With a\nslight inclination of her head she passed, hearing behind her Stepan\nArkadyevitch's loud voice calling him to come up, and the quiet, soft,\nand composed voice of Vronsky refusing.\n\nWhen Anna returned with the album, he was already gone, and Stepan\nArkadyevitch was telling them that he had called to inquire about the\ndinner they were giving next day to a celebrity who had just arrived.\n\"And nothing would induce him to come up. What a queer fellow he is!\"\nadded Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\nKitty blushed. She thought that she was the only person who knew why he\nhad come, and why he would not come up. \"He has been at home,\" she\nthought, \"and didn't find me, and thought I should be here, but he did\nnot come up because he thought it late, and Anna's here.\"\n\nAll of them looked at each other, saying nothing, and began to look at\nAnna's album.\n\nThere was nothing either exceptional or strange in a man's calling at\nhalf-past nine on a friend to inquire details of a proposed dinner party\nand not coming in, but it seemed strange to all of them. Above all, it\nseemed strange and not right to Anna.\n\n\n\nChapter 22\n\n\nThe ball was only just beginning as Kitty and her mother walked up the\ngreat staircase, flooded with light, and lined with flowers and footmen\nin powder and red coats. From the rooms came a constant, steady hum, as\nfrom a hive, and the rustle of movement; and while on the landing\nbetween trees they gave last touches to their hair and dresses before\nthe mirror, they heard from the ballroom the careful, distinct notes of\nthe fiddles of the orchestra beginning the first waltz. A little old man\nin civilian dress, arranging his gray curls before another mirror, and\ndiffusing an odor of scent, stumbled against them on the stairs, and\nstood aside, evidently admiring Kitty, whom he did not know. A beardless\nyouth, one of those society youths whom the old Prince Shtcherbatsky\ncalled \"young bucks,\" in an exceedingly open waistcoat, straightening\nhis white tie as he went, bowed to them, and after running by, came back\nto ask Kitty for a quadrille. As the first quadrille had already been\ngiven to Vronsky, she had to promise this youth the second. An officer,\nbuttoning his glove, stood aside in the doorway, and stroking his\nmustache, admired rosy Kitty.\n\nAlthough her dress, her coiffure, and all the preparations for the ball\nhad cost Kitty great trouble and consideration, at this moment she\nwalked into the ballroom in her elaborate tulle dress over a pink slip\nas easily and simply as though all the rosettes and lace, all the minute\ndetails of her attire, had not cost her or her family a moment's\nattention, as though she had been born in that tulle and lace, with her\nhair done up high on her head, and a rose and two leaves on the top of\nit.\n\nWhen, just before entering the ballroom, the princess, her mother, tried\nto turn right side out of the ribbon of her sash, Kitty had drawn back a\nlittle. She felt that everything must be right of itself, and graceful,\nand nothing could need setting straight.\n\nIt was one of Kitty's best days. Her dress was not uncomfortable\nanywhere; her lace berthe did not droop anywhere; her rosettes were not\ncrushed nor torn off; her pink slippers with high, hollowed-out heels\ndid not pinch, but gladdened her feet; and the thick rolls of fair\nchignon kept up on her head as if they were her own hair. All the three\nbuttons buttoned up without tearing on the long glove that covered her\nhand without concealing its lines. The black velvet of her locket\nnestled with special softness round her neck. That velvet was delicious;\nat home, looking at her neck in the looking glass, Kitty had felt that\nthat velvet was speaking. About all the rest there might be a doubt, but\nthe velvet was delicious. Kitty smiled here too, at the ball, when she\nglanced at it in the glass. Her bare shoulders and arms gave Kitty a\nsense of chill marble, a feeling she particularly liked. Her eyes\nsparkled, and her rosy lips could not keep from smiling from the\nconsciousness of her own attractiveness. She had scarcely entered the\nballroom and reached the throng of ladies, all tulle, ribbons, lace, and\nflowers, waiting to be asked to dance--Kitty was never one of that\nthrong--when she was asked for a waltz, and asked by the best partner,\nthe first star in the hierarchy of the ballroom, a renowned director of\ndances, a married man, handsome and well-built, Yegorushka Korsunsky. He\nhad only just left the Countess Bonina, with whom he had danced the\nfirst half of the waltz, and, scanning his kingdom--that is to say, a\nfew couples who had started dancing--he caught sight of Kitty, entering,\nand flew up to her with that peculiar, easy amble which is confined to\ndirectors of balls. Without even asking her if she cared to dance, he\nput out his arm to encircle her slender waist. She looked round for\nsomeone to give her fan to, and their hostess, smiling to her, took it.\n\n\"How nice you've come in good time,\" he said to her, embracing her\nwaist; \"such a bad habit to be late.\" Bending her left hand, she laid it\non his shoulder, and her little feet in their pink slippers began\nswiftly, lightly, and rhythmically moving over the slippery floor in\ntime to the music.\n\n\"It's a rest to waltz with you,\" he said to her, as they fell into the\nfirst slow steps of the waltz. \"It's exquisite--such lightness,\nprecision.\" He said to her the same thing he said to almost all his\npartners whom he knew well.\n\nShe smiled at his praise, and continued to look about the room over his\nshoulder. She was not like a girl at her first ball, for whom all faces\nin the ballroom melt into one vision of fairyland. And she was not a\ngirl who had gone the stale round of balls till every face in the\nballroom was familiar and tiresome. But she was in the middle stage\nbetween these two; she was excited, and at the same time she had\nsufficient self-possession to be able to observe. In the left corner of\nthe ballroom she saw the cream of society gathered together.\nThere--incredibly naked--was the beauty Lidi, Korsunsky's wife; there\nwas the lady of the house; there shone the bald head of Krivin, always\nto be found where the best people were. In that direction gazed the\nyoung men, not venturing to approach. There, too, she descried Stiva,\nand there she saw the exquisite figure and head of Anna in a black\nvelvet gown. And _he_ was there. Kitty had not seen him since the\nevening she refused Levin. With her long-sighted eyes, she knew him at\nonce, and was even aware that he was looking at her.\n\n\"Another turn, eh? You're not tired?\" said Korsunsky, a little out of\nbreath.\n\n\"No, thank you!\"\n\n\"Where shall I take you?\"\n\n\"Madame Karenina's here, I think ... take me to her.\"\n\n\"Wherever you command.\"\n\nAnd Korsunsky began waltzing with measured steps straight towards the\ngroup in the left corner, continually saying, \"Pardon, mesdames, pardon,\npardon, mesdames\"; and steering his course through the sea of lace,\ntulle, and ribbon, and not disarranging a feather, he turned his partner\nsharply round, so that her slim ankles, in light transparent stockings,\nwere exposed to view, and her train floated out in fan shape and covered\nKrivin's knees. Korsunsky bowed, set straight his open shirt front, and\ngave her his arm to conduct her to Anna Arkadyevna. Kitty, flushed, took\nher train from Krivin's knees, and, a little giddy, looked round,\nseeking Anna. Anna was not in lilac, as Kitty had so urgently wished,\nbut in a black, low-cut, velvet gown, showing her full throat and\nshoulders, that looked as though carved in old ivory, and her rounded\narms, with tiny, slender wrists. The whole gown was trimmed with\nVenetian guipure. On her head, among her black hair--her own, with no\nfalse additions--was a little wreath of pansies, and a bouquet of the\nsame in the black ribbon of her sash among white lace. Her coiffure was\nnot striking. All that was noticeable was the little wilful tendrils of\nher curly hair that would always break free about her neck and temples.\nRound her well-cut, strong neck was a thread of pearls.\n\nKitty had been seeing Anna every day; she adored her, and had pictured\nher invariably in lilac. But now seeing her in black, she felt that she\nhad not fully seen her charm. She saw her now as someone quite new and\nsurprising to her. Now she understood that Anna could not have been in\nlilac, and that her charm was just that she always stood out against her\nattire, that her dress could never be noticeable on her. And her black\ndress, with its sumptuous lace, was not noticeable on her; it was only\nthe frame, and all that was seen was she--simple, natural, elegant, and\nat the same time gay and eager.\n\nShe was standing holding herself, as always, very erect, and when Kitty\ndrew near the group she was speaking to the master of the house, her\nhead slightly turned towards him.\n\n\"No, I don't throw stones,\" she was saying, in answer to something,\n\"though I can't understand it,\" she went on, shrugging her shoulders,\nand she turned at once with a soft smile of protection towards Kitty.\nWith a flying, feminine glance she scanned her attire, and made a\nmovement of her head, hardly perceptible, but understood by Kitty,\nsignifying approval of her dress and her looks. \"You came into the room\ndancing,\" she added.\n\n\"This is one of my most faithful supporters,\" said Korsunsky, bowing to\nAnna Arkadyevna, whom he had not yet seen. \"The princess helps to make\nballs happy and successful. Anna Arkadyevna, a waltz?\" he said, bending\ndown to her.\n\n\"Why, have you met?\" inquired their host.\n\n\"Is there anyone we have not met? My wife and I are like white\nwolves--everyone knows us,\" answered Korsunsky. \"A waltz, Anna\nArkadyevna?\"\n\n\"I don't dance when it's possible not to dance,\" she said.\n\n\"But tonight it's impossible,\" answered Korsunsky.\n\nAt that instant Vronsky came up.\n\n\"Well, since it's impossible tonight, let us start,\" she said, not\nnoticing Vronsky's bow, and she hastily put her hand on Korsunsky's\nshoulder.\n\n\"What is she vexed with him about?\" thought Kitty, discerning that Anna\nhad intentionally not responded to Vronsky's bow. Vronsky went up to\nKitty reminding her of the first quadrille, and expressing his regret\nthat he had not seen her all this time. Kitty gazed in admiration at\nAnna waltzing, and listened to him. She expected him to ask her for a\nwaltz, but he did not, and she glanced wonderingly at him. He flushed\nslightly, and hurriedly asked her to waltz, but he had only just put his\narm round her waist and taken the first step when the music suddenly\nstopped. Kitty looked into his face, which was so close to her own, and\nlong afterwards--for several years after--that look, full of love, to\nwhich he made no response, cut her to the heart with an agony of shame.\n\n\"_Pardon! pardon!_ Waltz! waltz!\" shouted Korsunsky from the other side\nof the room, and seizing the first young lady he came across he began\ndancing himself.\n\n\n\nChapter 23\n\n\nVronsky and Kitty waltzed several times round the room. After the first\nwaltz Kitty went to her mother, and she had hardly time to say a few\nwords to Countess Nordston when Vronsky came up again for the first\nquadrille. During the quadrille nothing of any significance was said:\nthere was disjointed talk between them of the Korsunskys, husband and\nwife, whom he described very amusingly, as delightful children at forty,\nand of the future town theater; and only once the conversation touched\nher to the quick, when he asked her about Levin, whether he was here,\nand added that he liked him so much. But Kitty did not expect much from\nthe quadrille. She looked forward with a thrill at her heart to the\nmazurka. She fancied that in the mazurka everything must be decided. The\nfact that he did not during the quadrille ask her for the mazurka did\nnot trouble her. She felt sure she would dance the mazurka with him as\nshe had done at former balls, and refused five young men, saying she was\nengaged for the mazurka. The whole ball up to the last quadrille was for\nKitty an enchanted vision of delightful colors, sounds, and motions. She\nonly sat down when she felt too tired and begged for a rest. But as she\nwas dancing the last quadrille with one of the tiresome young men whom\nshe could not refuse, she chanced to be vis-a-vis with Vronsky and Anna.\nShe had not been near Anna again since the beginning of the evening, and\nnow again she saw her suddenly quite new and surprising. She saw in her\nthe signs of that excitement of success she knew so well in herself; she\nsaw that she was intoxicated with the delighted admiration she was\nexciting. She knew that feeling and knew its signs, and saw them in\nAnna; saw the quivering, flashing light in her eyes, and the smile of\nhappiness and excitement unconsciously playing on her lips, and the\ndeliberate grace, precision, and lightness of her movements.\n\n\"Who?\" she asked herself. \"All or one?\" And not assisting the harassed\nyoung man she was dancing with in the conversation, the thread of which\nhe had lost and could not pick up again, she obeyed with external\nliveliness the peremptory shouts of Korsunsky starting them all into the\n_grand rond_, and then into the _chaine_, and at the same time she kept\nwatch with a growing pang at her heart. \"No, it's not the admiration of\nthe crowd has intoxicated her, but the adoration of one. And that one?\ncan it be he?\" Every time he spoke to Anna the joyous light flashed into\nher eyes, and the smile of happiness curved her red lips. she seemed to\nmake an effort to control herself, to try not to show these signs of\ndelight, but they came out on her face of themselves. \"But what of him?\"\nKitty looked at him and was filled with terror. What was pictured so\nclearly to Kitty in the mirror of Anna's face she saw in him. What had\nbecome of his always self-possessed resolute manner, and the carelessly\nserene expression of his face? Now every time he turned to her, he bent\nhis head, as though he would have fallen at her feet, and in his eyes\nthere was nothing but humble submission and dread. \"I would not offend\nyou,\" his eyes seemed every time to be saying, \"but I want to save\nmyself, and I don't know how.\" On his face was a look such as Kitty had\nnever seen before.\n\nThey were speaking of common acquaintances, keeping up the most trivial\nconversation, but to Kitty it seemed that every word they said was\ndetermining their fate and hers. And strange it was that they were\nactually talking of how absurd Ivan Ivanovitch was with his French, and\nhow the Eletsky girl might have made a better match, yet these words had\nall the while consequence for them, and they were feeling just as Kitty\ndid. The whole ball, the whole world, everything seemed lost in fog in\nKitty's soul. Nothing but the stern discipline of her bringing-up\nsupported her and forced her to do what was expected of her, that is, to\ndance, to answer questions, to talk, even to smile. But before the\nmazurka, when they were beginning to rearrange the chairs and a few\ncouples moved out of the smaller rooms into the big room, a moment of\ndespair and horror came for Kitty. She had refused five partners, and\nnow she was not dancing the mazurka. She had not even a hope of being\nasked for it, because she was so successful in society that the idea\nwould never occur to anyone that she had remained disengaged till now.\nShe would have to tell her mother she felt ill and go home, but she had\nnot the strength to do this. She felt crushed. She went to the furthest\nend of the little drawing room and sank into a low chair. Her light,\ntransparent skirts rose like a cloud about her slender waist; one bare,\nthin, soft, girlish arm, hanging listlessly, was lost in the folds of\nher pink tunic; in the other she held her fan, and with rapid, short\nstrokes fanned her burning face. But while she looked like a butterfly,\nclinging to a blade of grass, and just about to open its rainbow wings\nfor fresh flight, her heart ached with a horrible despair.\n\n\"But perhaps I am wrong, perhaps it was not so?\" And again she recalled\nall she had seen.\n\n\"Kitty, what is it?\" said Countess Nordston, stepping noiselessly over\nthe carpet towards her. \"I don't understand it.\"\n\nKitty's lower lip began to quiver; she got up quickly.\n\n\"Kitty, you're not dancing the mazurka?\"\n\n\"No, no,\" said Kitty in a voice shaking with tears.\n\n\"He asked her for the mazurka before me,\" said Countess Nordston,\nknowing Kitty would understand who were \"he\" and \"her.\" \"She said: 'Why,\naren't you going to dance it with Princess Shtcherbatskaya?'\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't care!\" answered Kitty.\n\nNo one but she herself understood her position; no one knew that she had\njust refused the man whom perhaps she loved, and refused him because she\nhad put her faith in another.\n\nCountess Nordston found Korsunsky, with whom she was to dance the\nmazurka, and told him to ask Kitty.\n\nKitty danced in the first couple, and luckily for her she had not to\ntalk, because Korsunsky was all the time running about directing the\nfigure. Vronsky and Anna sat almost opposite her. She saw them with her\nlong-sighted eyes, and saw them, too, close by, when they met in the\nfigures, and the more she saw of them the more convinced was she that\nher unhappiness was complete. She saw that they felt themselves alone in\nthat crowded room. And on Vronsky's face, always so firm and\nindependent, she saw that look that had struck her, of bewilderment and\nhumble submissiveness, like the expression of an intelligent dog when it\nhas done wrong.\n\nAnna smiled, and her smile was reflected by him. She grew thoughtful,\nand he became serious. Some supernatural force drew Kitty's eyes to\nAnna's face. She was fascinating in her simple black dress, fascinating\nwere her round arms with their bracelets, fascinating was her firm neck\nwith its thread of pearls, fascinating the straying curls of her loose\nhair, fascinating the graceful, light movements of her little feet and\nhands, fascinating was that lovely face in its eagerness, but there was\nsomething terrible and cruel in her fascination.\n\nKitty admired her more than ever, and more and more acute was her\nsuffering. Kitty felt overwhelmed, and her face showed it. When Vronsky\nsaw her, coming across her in the mazurka, he did not at once recognize\nher, she was so changed.\n\n\"Delightful ball!\" he said to her, for the sake of saying something.\n\n\"Yes,\" she answered.\n\nIn the middle of the mazurka, repeating a complicated figure, newly\ninvented by Korsunsky, Anna came forward into the center of the circle,\nchose two gentlemen, and summoned a lady and Kitty. Kitty gazed at her\nin dismay as she went up. Anna looked at her with drooping eyelids, and\nsmiled, pressing her hand. But, noticing that Kitty only responded to\nher smile by a look of despair and amazement, she turned away from her,\nand began gaily talking to the other lady.\n\n\"Yes, there is something uncanny, devilish and fascinating in her,\"\nKitty said to herself.\n\nAnna did not mean to stay to supper, but the master of the house began\nto press her to do so.\n\n\"Nonsense, Anna Arkadyevna,\" said Korsunsky, drawing her bare arm under\nthe sleeve of his dress coat, \"I've such an idea for a _cotillion! Un\nbijou!_\"\n\nAnd he moved gradually on, trying to draw her along with him. Their host\nsmiled approvingly.\n\n\"No, I am not going to stay,\" answered Anna, smiling, but in spite of\nher smile, both Korsunsky and the master of the house saw from her\nresolute tone that she would not stay.\n\n\"No; why, as it is, I have danced more at your ball in Moscow than I\nhave all the winter in Petersburg,\" said Anna, looking round at Vronsky,\nwho stood near her. \"I must rest a little before my journey.\"\n\n\"Are you certainly going tomorrow then?\" asked Vronsky.\n\n\"Yes, I suppose so,\" answered Anna, as it were wondering at the boldness\nof his question; but the irrepressible, quivering brilliance of her eyes\nand her smile set him on fire as she said it.\n\nAnna Arkadyevna did not stay to supper, but went home.\n\n\n\nChapter 24\n\n\n\"Yes, there is something in me hateful, repulsive,\" thought Levin, as he\ncame away from the Shtcherbatskys', and walked in the direction of his\nbrother's lodgings. \"And I don't get on with other people. Pride, they\nsay. No, I have no pride. If I had any pride, I should not have put\nmyself in such a position.\" And he pictured to himself Vronsky, happy,\ngood-natured, clever, and self-possessed, certainly never placed in the\nawful position in which he had been that evening. \"Yes, she was bound to\nchoose him. So it had to be, and I cannot complain of anyone or\nanything. I am myself to blame. What right had I to imagine she would\ncare to join her life to mine? Who am I and what am I? A nobody, not\nwanted by any one, nor of use to anybody.\" And he recalled his brother\nNikolay, and dwelt with pleasure on the thought of him. \"Isn't he right\nthat everything in the world is base and loathsome? And are we fair in\nour judgment of brother Nikolay? Of course, from the point of view of\nProkofy, seeing him in a torn cloak and tipsy, he's a despicable person.\nBut I know him differently. I know his soul, and know that we are like\nhim. And I, instead of going to seek him out, went out to dinner, and\ncame here.\" Levin walked up to a lamppost, read his brother's address,\nwhich was in his pocketbook, and called a sledge. All the long way to\nhis brother's, Levin vividly recalled all the facts familiar to him of\nhis brother Nikolay's life. He remembered how his brother, while at the\nuniversity, and for a year afterwards, had, in spite of the jeers of his\ncompanions, lived like a monk, strictly observing all religious rites,\nservices, and fasts, and avoiding every sort of pleasure, especially\nwomen. And afterwards, how he had all at once broken out: he had\nassociated with the most horrible people, and rushed into the most\nsenseless debauchery. He remembered later the scandal over a boy, whom\nhe had taken from the country to bring up, and, in a fit of rage, had so\nviolently beaten that proceedings were brought against him for\nunlawfully wounding. Then he recalled the scandal with a sharper, to\nwhom he had lost money, and given a promissory note, and against whom he\nhad himself lodged a complaint, asserting that he had cheated him. (This\nwas the money Sergey Ivanovitch had paid.) Then he remembered how he had\nspent a night in the lockup for disorderly conduct in the street. He\nremembered the shameful proceedings he had tried to get up against his\nbrother Sergey Ivanovitch, accusing him of not having paid him his share\nof his mother's fortune, and the last scandal, when he had gone to a\nwestern province in an official capacity, and there had got into trouble\nfor assaulting a village elder.... It was all horribly disgusting, yet\nto Levin it appeared not at all in the same disgusting light as it\ninevitably would to those who did not know Nikolay, did not know all his\nstory, did not know his heart.\n\nLevin remembered that when Nikolay had been in the devout stage, the\nperiod of fasts and monks and church services, when he was seeking in\nreligion a support and a curb for his passionate temperament, everyone,\nfar from encouraging him, had jeered at him, and he, too, with the\nothers. They had teased him, called him Noah and Monk; and, when he had\nbroken out, no one had helped him, but everyone had turned away from him\nwith horror and disgust.\n\nLevin felt that, in spite of all the ugliness of his life, his brother\nNikolay, in his soul, in the very depths of his soul, was no more in the\nwrong than the people who despised him. He was not to blame for having\nbeen born with his unbridled temperament and his somehow limited\nintelligence. But he had always wanted to be good. \"I will tell him\neverything, without reserve, and I will make him speak without reserve,\ntoo, and I'll show him that I love him, and so understand him,\" Levin\nresolved to himself, as, towards eleven o'clock, he reached the hotel of\nwhich he had the address.\n\n\"At the top, 12 and 13,\" the porter answered Levin's inquiry.\n\n\"At home?\"\n\n\"Sure to be at home.\"\n\nThe door of No. 12 was half open, and there came out into the streak of\nlight thick fumes of cheap, poor tobacco, and the sound of a voice,\nunknown to Levin; but he knew at once that his brother was there; he\nheard his cough.\n\nAs he went in the door, the unknown voice was saying:\n\n\"It all depends with how much judgment and knowledge the thing's done.\"\n\nKonstantin Levin looked in at the door, and saw that the speaker was a\nyoung man with an immense shock of hair, wearing a Russian jerkin, and\nthat a pockmarked woman in a woolen gown, without collar or cuffs, was\nsitting on the sofa. His brother was not to be seen. Konstantin felt a\nsharp pang at his heart at the thought of the strange company in which\nhis brother spent his life. No one had heard him, and Konstantin, taking\noff his galoshes, listened to what the gentleman in the jerkin was\nsaying. He was speaking of some enterprise.\n\n\"Well, the devil flay them, the privileged classes,\" his brother's voice\nresponded, with a cough. \"Masha! get us some supper and some wine if\nthere's any left; or else go and get some.\"\n\nThe woman rose, came out from behind the screen, and saw Konstantin.\n\n\"There's some gentleman, Nikolay Dmitrievitch,\" she said.\n\n\"Whom do you want?\" said the voice of Nikolay Levin, angrily.\n\n\"It's I,\" answered Konstantin Levin, coming forward into the light.\n\n\"Who's _I_?\" Nikolay's voice said again, still more angrily. He could be\nheard getting up hurriedly, stumbling against something, and Levin saw,\nfacing him in the doorway, the big, scared eyes, and the huge, thin,\nstooping figure of his brother, so familiar, and yet astonishing in its\nweirdness and sickliness.\n\nHe was even thinner than three years before, when Konstantin Levin had\nseen him last. He was wearing a short coat, and his hands and big bones\nseemed huger than ever. His hair had grown thinner, the same straight\nmustaches hid his lips, the same eyes gazed strangely and naively at his\nvisitor.\n\n\"Ah, Kostya!\" he exclaimed suddenly, recognizing his brother, and his\neyes lit up with joy. But the same second he looked round at the young\nman, and gave the nervous jerk of his head and neck that Konstantin knew\nso well, as if his neckband hurt him; and a quite different expression,\nwild, suffering, and cruel, rested on his emaciated face.\n\n\"I wrote to you and Sergey Ivanovitch both that I don't know you and\ndon't want to know you. What is it you want?\"\n\nHe was not at all the same as Konstantin had been fancying him. The\nworst and most tiresome part of his character, what made all relations\nwith him so difficult, had been forgotten by Konstantin Levin when he\nthought of him, and now, when he saw his face, and especially that\nnervous twitching of his head, he remembered it all.\n\n\"I didn't want to see you for anything,\" he answered timidly. \"I've\nsimply come to see you.\"\n\nHis brother's timidity obviously softened Nikolay. His lips twitched.\n\n\"Oh, so that's it?\" he said. \"Well, come in; sit down. Like some supper?\nMasha, bring supper for three. No, stop a minute. Do you know who this\nis?\" he said, addressing his brother, and indicating the gentleman in\nthe jerkin: \"This is Mr. Kritsky, my friend from Kiev, a very remarkable\nman. He's persecuted by the police, of course, because he's not a\nscoundrel.\"\n\nAnd he looked round in the way he always did at everyone in the room.\nSeeing that the woman standing in the doorway was moving to go, he\nshouted to her, \"Wait a minute, I said.\" And with the inability to\nexpress himself, the incoherence that Konstantin knew so well, he began,\nwith another look round at everyone, to tell his brother Kritsky's\nstory: how he had been expelled from the university for starting a\nbenefit society for the poor students and Sunday schools; and how he had\nafterwards been a teacher in a peasant school, and how he had been\ndriven out of that too, and had afterwards been condemned for something.\n\n\"You're of the Kiev university?\" said Konstantin Levin to Kritsky, to\nbreak the awkward silence that followed.\n\n\"Yes, I was of Kiev,\" Kritsky replied angrily, his face darkening.\n\n\"And this woman,\" Nikolay Levin interrupted him, pointing to her, \"is\nthe partner of my life, Marya Nikolaevna. I took her out of a bad\nhouse,\" and he jerked his neck saying this; \"but I love her and respect\nher, and any one who wants to know me,\" he added, raising his voice and\nknitting his brows, \"I beg to love her and respect her. She's just the\nsame as my wife, just the same. So now you know whom you've to do with.\nAnd if you think you're lowering yourself, well, here's the floor,\nthere's the door.\"\n\nAnd again his eyes traveled inquiringly over all of them.\n\n\"Why I should be lowering myself, I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Then, Masha, tell them to bring supper; three portions, spirits and\nwine.... No, wait a minute.... No, it doesn't matter.... Go along.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 25\n\n\n\"So you see,\" pursued Nikolay Levin, painfully wrinkling his forehead\nand twitching.\n\nIt was obviously difficult for him to think of what to say and do.\n\n\"Here, do you see?\"... He pointed to some sort of iron bars, fastened\ntogether with strings, lying in a corner of the room. \"Do you see that?\nThat's the beginning of a new thing we're going into. It's a productive\nassociation...\"\n\nKonstantin scarcely heard him. He looked into his sickly, consumptive\nface, and he was more and more sorry for him, and he could not force\nhimself to listen to what his brother was telling him about the\nassociation. He saw that this association was a mere anchor to save him\nfrom self-contempt. Nikolay Levin went on talking:\n\n\"You know that capital oppresses the laborer. The laborers with us, the\npeasants, bear all the burden of labor, and are so placed that however\nmuch they work they can't escape from their position of beasts of\nburden. All the profits of labor, on which they might improve their\nposition, and gain leisure for themselves, and after that education, all\nthe surplus values are taken from them by the capitalists. And society's\nso constituted that the harder they work, the greater the profit of the\nmerchants and landowners, while they stay beasts of burden to the end.\nAnd that state of things must be changed,\" he finished up, and he looked\nquestioningly at his brother.\n\n\"Yes, of course,\" said Konstantin, looking at the patch of red that had\ncome out on his brother's projecting cheek bones.\n\n\"And so we're founding a locksmiths' association, where all the\nproduction and profit and the chief instruments of production will be in\ncommon.\"\n\n\"Where is the association to be?\" asked Konstantin Levin.\n\n\"In the village of Vozdrem, Kazan government.\"\n\n\"But why in a village? In the villages, I think, there is plenty of work\nas it is. Why a locksmiths' association in a village?\"\n\n\"Why? Because the peasants are just as much slaves as they ever were,\nand that's why you and Sergey Ivanovitch don't like people to try and\nget them out of their slavery,\" said Nikolay Levin, exasperated by the\nobjection.\n\nKonstantin Levin sighed, looking meanwhile about the cheerless and dirty\nroom. This sigh seemed to exasperate Nikolay still more.\n\n\"I know your and Sergey Ivanovitch's aristocratic views. I know that he\napplies all the power of his intellect to justify existing evils.\"\n\n\"No; and what do you talk of Sergey Ivanovitch for?\" said Levin,\nsmiling.\n\n\"Sergey Ivanovitch? I'll tell you what for!\" Nikolay Levin shrieked\nsuddenly at the name of Sergey Ivanovitch. \"I'll tell you what for....\nBut what's the use of talking? There's only one thing.... What did you\ncome to me for? You look down on this, and you're welcome to,--and go\naway, in God's name go away!\" he shrieked, getting up from his chair.\n\"And go away, and go away!\"\n\n\"I don't look down on it at all,\" said Konstantin Levin timidly. \"I\ndon't even dispute it.\"\n\nAt that instant Marya Nikolaevna came back. Nikolay Levin looked round\nangrily at her. She went quickly to him, and whispered something.\n\n\"I'm not well; I've grown irritable,\" said Nikolay Levin, getting calmer\nand breathing painfully; \"and then you talk to me of Sergey Ivanovitch\nand his article. It's such rubbish, such lying, such self-deception.\nWhat can a man write of justice who knows nothing of it? Have you read\nhis article?\" he asked Kritsky, sitting down again at the table, and\nmoving back off half of it the scattered cigarettes, so as to clear a\nspace.\n\n\"I've not read it,\" Kritsky responded gloomily, obviously not desiring\nto enter into the conversation.\n\n\"Why not?\" said Nikolay Levin, now turning with exasperation upon\nKritsky.\n\n\"Because I didn't see the use of wasting my time over it.\"\n\n\"Oh, but excuse me, how did you know it would be wasting your time? That\narticle's too deep for many people--that's to say it's over their heads.\nBut with me, it's another thing; I see through his ideas, and I know\nwhere its weakness lies.\"\n\nEveryone was mute. Kritsky got up deliberately and reached his cap.\n\n\"Won't you have supper? All right, good-bye! Come round tomorrow with\nthe locksmith.\"\n\nKritsky had hardly gone out when Nikolay Levin smiled and winked.\n\n\"He's no good either,\" he said. \"I see, of course...\"\n\nBut at that instant Kritsky, at the door, called him...\n\n\"What do you want now?\" he said, and went out to him in the passage.\nLeft alone with Marya Nikolaevna, Levin turned to her.\n\n\"Have you been long with my brother?\" he said to her.\n\n\"Yes, more than a year. Nikolay Dmitrievitch's health has become very\npoor. Nikolay Dmitrievitch drinks a great deal,\" she said.\n\n\"That is ... how does he drink?\"\n\n\"Drinks vodka, and it's bad for him.\"\n\n\"And a great deal?\" whispered Levin.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, looking timidly towards the doorway, where Nikolay\nLevin had reappeared.\n\n\"What were you talking about?\" he said, knitting his brows, and turning\nhis scared eyes from one to the other. \"What was it?\"\n\n\"Oh, nothing,\" Konstantin answered in confusion.\n\n\"Oh, if you don't want to say, don't. Only it's no good your talking to\nher. She's a wench, and you're a gentleman,\" he said with a jerk of the\nneck. \"You understand everything, I see, and have taken stock of\neverything, and look with commiseration on my shortcomings,\" he began\nagain, raising his voice.\n\n\"Nikolay Dmitrievitch, Nikolay Dmitrievitch,\" whispered Marya\nNikolaevna, again going up to him.\n\n\"Oh, very well, very well!... But where's the supper? Ah, here it is,\"\nhe said, seeing a waiter with a tray. \"Here, set it here,\" he added\nangrily, and promptly seizing the vodka, he poured out a glassful and\ndrank it greedily. \"Like a drink?\" he turned to his brother, and at once\nbecame better humored.\n\n\"Well, enough of Sergey Ivanovitch. I'm glad to see you, anyway. After\nall's said and done, we're not strangers. Come, have a drink. Tell me\nwhat you're doing,\" he went on, greedily munching a piece of bread, and\npouring out another glassful. \"How are you living?\"\n\n\"I live alone in the country, as I used to. I'm busy looking after the\nland,\" answered Konstantin, watching with horror the greediness with\nwhich his brother ate and drank, and trying to conceal that he noticed\nit.\n\n\"Why don't you get married?\"\n\n\"It hasn't happened so,\" Konstantin answered, reddening a little.\n\n\"Why not? For me now ... everything's at an end! I've made a mess of my\nlife. But this I've said, and I say still, that if my share had been\ngiven me when I needed it, my whole life would have been different.\"\n\nKonstantin made haste to change the conversation.\n\n\"Do you know your little Vanya's with me, a clerk in the countinghouse\nat Pokrovskoe.\"\n\nNikolay jerked his neck, and sank into thought.\n\n\"Yes, tell me what's going on at Pokrovskoe. Is the house standing\nstill, and the birch trees, and our schoolroom? And Philip the gardener,\nis he living? How I remember the arbor and the seat! Now mind and don't\nalter anything in the house, but make haste and get married, and make\neverything as it used to be again. Then I'll come and see you, if your\nwife is nice.\"\n\n\"But come to me now,\" said Levin. \"How nicely we would arrange it!\"\n\n\"I'd come and see you if I were sure I should not find Sergey\nIvanovitch.\"\n\n\"You wouldn't find him there. I live quite independently of him.\"\n\n\"Yes, but say what you like, you will have to choose between me and\nhim,\" he said, looking timidly into his brother's face.\n\nThis timidity touched Konstantin.\n\n\"If you want to hear my confession of faith on the subject, I tell you\nthat in your quarrel with Sergey Ivanovitch I take neither side. You're\nboth wrong. You're more wrong externally, and he inwardly.\"\n\n\"Ah, ah! You see that, you see that!\" Nikolay shouted joyfully.\n\n\"But I personally value friendly relations with you more because...\"\n\n\"Why, why?\"\n\nKonstantin could not say that he valued it more because Nikolay was\nunhappy, and needed affection. But Nikolay knew that this was just what\nhe meant to say, and scowling he took up the vodka again.\n\n\"Enough, Nikolay Dmitrievitch!\" said Marya Nikolaevna, stretching out\nher plump, bare arm towards the decanter.\n\n\"Let it be! Don't insist! I'll beat you!\" he shouted.\n\nMarya Nikolaevna smiled a sweet and good-humored smile, which was at\nonce reflected on Nikolay's face, and she took the bottle.\n\n\"And do you suppose she understands nothing?\" said Nikolay. \"She\nunderstands it all better than any of us. Isn't it true there's\nsomething good and sweet in her?\"\n\n\"Were you never before in Moscow?\" Konstantin said to her, for the sake\nof saying something.\n\n\"Only you mustn't be polite and stiff with her. It frightens her. No one\never spoke to her so but the justices of the peace who tried her for\ntrying to get out of a house of ill-fame. Mercy on us, the senselessness\nin the world!\" he cried suddenly. \"These new institutions, these\njustices of the peace, rural councils, what hideousness it all is!\"\n\nAnd he began to enlarge on his encounters with the new institutions.\n\nKonstantin Levin heard him, and the disbelief in the sense of all public\ninstitutions, which he shared with him, and often expressed, was\ndistasteful to him now from his brother's lips.\n\n\"In another world we shall understand it all,\" he said lightly.\n\n\"In another world! Ah, I don't like that other world! I don't like it,\"\nhe said, letting his scared eyes rest on his brother's eyes. \"Here one\nwould think that to get out of all the baseness and the mess, one's own\nand other people's, would be a good thing, and yet I'm afraid of death,\nawfully afraid of death.\" He shuddered. \"But do drink something. Would\nyou like some champagne? Or shall we go somewhere? Let's go to the\nGypsies! Do you know I have got so fond of the Gypsies and Russian\nsongs.\"\n\nHis speech had begun to falter, and he passed abruptly from one subject\nto another. Konstantin with the help of Masha persuaded him not to go\nout anywhere, and got him to bed hopelessly drunk.\n\nMasha promised to write to Konstantin in case of need, and to persuade\nNikolay Levin to go and stay with his brother.\n\n\n\nChapter 26\n\n\nIn the morning Konstantin Levin left Moscow, and towards evening he\nreached home. On the journey in the train he talked to his neighbors\nabout politics and the new railways, and, just as in Moscow, he was\novercome by a sense of confusion of ideas, dissatisfaction with himself,\nshame of something or other. But when he got out at his own station,\nwhen he saw his one-eyed coachman, Ignat, with the collar of his coat\nturned up; when, in the dim light reflected by the station fires, he saw\nhis own sledge, his own horses with their tails tied up, in their\nharness trimmed with rings and tassels; when the coachman Ignat, as he\nput in his luggage, told him the village news, that the contractor had\narrived, and that Pava had calved,--he felt that little by little the\nconfusion was clearing up, and the shame and self-dissatisfaction were\npassing away. He felt this at the mere sight of Ignat and the horses;\nbut when he had put on the sheepskin brought for him, had sat down\nwrapped up in the sledge, and had driven off pondering on the work that\nlay before him in the village, and staring at the side-horse, that had\nbeen his saddle-horse, past his prime now, but a spirited beast from the\nDon, he began to see what had happened to him in quite a different\nlight. He felt himself, and did not want to be any one else. All he\nwanted now was to be better than before. In the first place he resolved\nthat from that day he would give up hoping for any extraordinary\nhappiness, such as marriage must have given him, and consequently he\nwould not so disdain what he really had. Secondly, he would never again\nlet himself give way to low passion, the memory of which had so tortured\nhim when he had been making up his mind to make an offer. Then\nremembering his brother Nikolay, he resolved to himself that he would\nnever allow himself to forget him, that he would follow him up, and not\nlose sight of him, so as to be ready to help when things should go ill\nwith him. And that would be soon, he felt. Then, too, his brother's talk\nof communism, which he had treated so lightly at the time, now made him\nthink. He considered a revolution in economic conditions nonsense. But\nhe always felt the injustice of his own abundance in comparison with the\npoverty of the peasants, and now he determined that so as to feel quite\nin the right, though he had worked hard and lived by no means\nluxuriously before, he would now work still harder, and would allow\nhimself even less luxury. And all this seemed to him so easy a conquest\nover himself that he spent the whole drive in the pleasantest daydreams.\nWith a resolute feeling of hope in a new, better life, he reached home\nbefore nine o'clock at night.\n\nThe snow of the little quadrangle before the house was lit up by a light\nin the bedroom windows of his old nurse, Agafea Mihalovna, who performed\nthe duties of housekeeper in his house. She was not yet asleep. Kouzma,\nwaked up by her, came sidling sleepily out onto the steps. A setter\nbitch, Laska, ran out too, almost upsetting Kouzma, and whining, turned\nround about Levin's knees, jumping up and longing, but not daring, to\nput her forepaws on his chest.\n\n\"You're soon back again, sir,\" said Agafea Mihalovna.\n\n\"I got tired of it, Agafea Mihalovna. With friends, one is well; but at\nhome, one is better,\" he answered, and went into his study.\n\nThe study was slowly lit up as the candle was brought in. The familiar\ndetails came out: the stag's horns, the bookshelves, the looking-glass,\nthe stove with its ventilator, which had long wanted mending, his\nfather's sofa, a large table, on the table an open book, a broken ash\ntray, a manuscript book with his handwriting. As he saw all this, there\ncame over him for an instant a doubt of the possibility of arranging the\nnew life, of which he had been dreaming on the road. All these traces of\nhis life seemed to clutch him, and to say to him: \"No, you're not going\nto get away from us, and you're not going to be different, but you're\ngoing to be the same as you've always been; with doubts, everlasting\ndissatisfaction with yourself, vain efforts to amend, and falls, and\neverlasting expectation, of a happiness which you won't get, and which\nisn't possible for you.\"\n\nThis the things said to him, but another voice in his heart was telling\nhim that he must not fall under the sway of the past, and that one can\ndo anything with oneself. And hearing that voice, he went into the\ncorner where stood his two heavy dumbbells, and began brandishing them\nlike a gymnast, trying to restore his confident temper. There was a\ncreak of steps at the door. He hastily put down the dumbbells.\n\nThe bailiff came in, and said everything, thank God, was doing well; but\ninformed him that the buckwheat in the new drying machine had been a\nlittle scorched. This piece of news irritated Levin. The new drying\nmachine had been constructed and partly invented by Levin. The bailiff\nhad always been against the drying machine, and now it was with\nsuppressed triumph that he announced that the buckwheat had been\nscorched. Levin was firmly convinced that if the buckwheat had been\nscorched, it was only because the precautions had not been taken, for\nwhich he had hundreds of times given orders. He was annoyed, and\nreprimanded the bailiff. But there had been an important and joyful\nevent: Pava, his best cow, an expensive beast, bought at a show, had\ncalved.\n\n\"Kouzma, give me my sheepskin. And you tell them to take a lantern. I'll\ncome and look at her,\" he said to the bailiff.\n\nThe cowhouse for the more valuable cows was just behind the house.\nWalking across the yard, passing a snowdrift by the lilac tree, he went\ninto the cowhouse. There was the warm, steamy smell of dung when the\nfrozen door was opened, and the cows, astonished at the unfamiliar light\nof the lantern, stirred on the fresh straw. He caught a glimpse of the\nbroad, smooth, black and piebald back of Hollandka. Berkoot, the bull,\nwas lying down with his ring in his lip, and seemed about to get up, but\nthought better of it, and only gave two snorts as they passed by him.\nPava, a perfect beauty, huge as a hippopotamus, with her back turned to\nthem, prevented their seeing the calf, as she sniffed her all over.\n\nLevin went into the pen, looked Pava over, and lifted the red and\nspotted calf onto her long, tottering legs. Pava, uneasy, began lowing,\nbut when Levin put the calf close to her she was soothed, and, sighing\nheavily, began licking her with her rough tongue. The calf, fumbling,\npoked her nose under her mother's udder, and stiffened her tail out\nstraight.\n\n\"Here, bring the light, Fyodor, this way,\" said Levin, examining the\ncalf. \"Like the mother! though the color takes after the father; but\nthat's nothing. Very good. Long and broad in the haunch. Vassily\nFedorovitch, isn't she splendid?\" he said to the bailiff, quite\nforgiving him for the buckwheat under the influence of his delight in\nthe calf.\n\n\"How could she fail to be? Oh, Semyon the contractor came the day after\nyou left. You must settle with him, Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\" said the\nbailiff. \"I did inform you about the machine.\"\n\nThis question was enough to take Levin back to all the details of his\nwork on the estate, which was on a large scale, and complicated. He went\nstraight from the cowhouse to the counting house, and after a little\nconversation with the bailiff and Semyon the contractor, he went back to\nthe house and straight upstairs to the drawing room.\n\n\n\nChapter 27\n\n\nThe house was big and old-fashioned, and Levin, though he lived alone,\nhad the whole house heated and used. He knew that this was stupid, he\nknew that it was positively not right, and contrary to his present new\nplans, but this house was a whole world to Levin. It was the world in\nwhich his father and mother had lived and died. They had lived just the\nlife that to Levin seemed the ideal of perfection, and that he had\ndreamed of beginning with his wife, his family.\n\nLevin scarcely remembered his mother. His conception of her was for him\na sacred memory, and his future wife was bound to be in his imagination\na repetition of that exquisite, holy ideal of a woman that his mother\nhad been.\n\nHe was so far from conceiving of love for woman apart from marriage that\nhe positively pictured to himself first the family, and only secondarily\nthe woman who would give him a family. His ideas of marriage were,\nconsequently, quite unlike those of the great majority of his\nacquaintances, for whom getting married was one of the numerous facts of\nsocial life. For Levin it was the chief affair of life, on which its\nwhole happiness turned. And now he had to give up that.\n\nWhen he had gone into the little drawing room, where he always had tea,\nand had settled himself in his armchair with a book, and Agafea\nMihalovna had brought him tea, and with her usual, \"Well, I'll stay a\nwhile, sir,\" had taken a chair in the window, he felt that, however\nstrange it might be, he had not parted from his daydreams, and that he\ncould not live without them. Whether with her, or with another, still it\nwould be. He was reading a book, and thinking of what he was reading,\nand stopping to listen to Agafea Mihalovna, who gossiped away without\nflagging, and yet with all that, all sorts of pictures of family life\nand work in the future rose disconnectedly before his imagination. He\nfelt that in the depth of his soul something had been put in its place,\nsettled down, and laid to rest.\n\nHe heard Agafea Mihalovna talking of how Prohor had forgotten his duty\nto God, and with the money Levin had given him to buy a horse, had been\ndrinking without stopping, and had beaten his wife till he'd half killed\nher. He listened, and read his book, and recalled the whole train of\nideas suggested by his reading. It was Tyndall's _Treatise on Heat_. He\nrecalled his own criticisms of Tyndall of his complacent satisfaction in\nthe cleverness of his experiments, and for his lack of philosophic\ninsight. And suddenly there floated into his mind the joyful thought:\n\"In two years' time I shall have two Dutch cows; Pava herself will\nperhaps still be alive, a dozen young daughters of Berkoot and the three\nothers--how lovely!\"\n\nHe took up his book again. \"Very good, electricity and heat are the same\nthing; but is it possible to substitute the one quantity for the other\nin the equation for the solution of any problem? No. Well, then what of\nit? The connection between all the forces of nature is felt\ninstinctively.... It's particulary nice if Pava's daughter should be a\nred-spotted cow, and all the herd will take after her, and the other\nthree, too! Splendid! To go out with my wife and visitors to meet the\nherd.... My wife says, 'Kostya and I looked after that calf like a\nchild.' 'How can it interest you so much?' says a visitor. 'Everything\nthat interests him, interests me.' But who will she be?\" And he\nremembered what had happened at Moscow.... \"Well, there's nothing to be\ndone.... It's not my fault. But now everything shall go on in a new way.\nIt's nonsense to pretend that life won't let one, that the past won't\nlet one. One must struggle to live better, much better.\"... He raised\nhis head, and fell to dreaming. Old Laska, who had not yet fully\ndigested her delight at his return, and had run out into the yard to\nbark, came back wagging her tail, and crept up to him, bringing in the\nscent of fresh air, put her head under his hand, and whined plaintively,\nasking to be stroked.\n\n\"There, who'd have thought it?\" said Agafea Mihalovna. \"The dog now ...\nwhy, she understands that her master's come home, and that he's\nlow-spirited.\"\n\n\"Why low-spirited?\"\n\n\"Do you suppose I don't see it, sir? It's high time I should know the\ngentry. Why, I've grown up from a little thing with them. It's nothing,\nsir, so long as there's health and a clear conscience.\"\n\nLevin looked intently at her, surprised at how well she knew his\nthought.\n\n\"Shall I fetch you another cup?\" said she, and taking his cup she went\nout.\n\nLaska kept poking her head under his hand. He stroked her, and she\npromptly curled up at his feet, laying her head on a hindpaw. And in\ntoken of all now being well and satisfactory, she opened her mouth a\nlittle, smacked her lips, and settling her sticky lips more comfortably\nabout her old teeth, she sank into blissful repose. Levin watched all\nher movements attentively.\n\n\"That's what I'll do,\" he said to himself; \"that's what I'll do!\nNothing's amiss.... All's well.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 28\n\n\nAfter the ball, early next morning, Anna Arkadyevna sent her husband a\ntelegram that she was leaving Moscow the same day.\n\n\"No, I must go, I must go\"; she explained to her sister-in-law the\nchange in her plans in a tone that suggested that she had to remember so\nmany things that there was no enumerating them: \"no, it had really\nbetter be today!\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was not dining at home, but he promised to come and\nsee his sister off at seven o'clock.\n\nKitty, too, did not come, sending a note that she had a headache. Dolly\nand Anna dined alone with the children and the English governess.\nWhether it was that the children were fickle, or that they had acute\nsenses, and felt that Anna was quite different that day from what she\nhad been when they had taken such a fancy to her, that she was not now\ninterested in them,--but they had abruptly dropped their play with their\naunt, and their love for her, and were quite indifferent that she was\ngoing away. Anna was absorbed the whole morning in preparations for her\ndeparture. She wrote notes to her Moscow acquaintances, put down her\naccounts, and packed. Altogether Dolly fancied she was not in a placid\nstate of mind, but in that worried mood, which Dolly knew well with\nherself, and which does not come without cause, and for the most part\ncovers dissatisfaction with self. After dinner, Anna went up to her room\nto dress, and Dolly followed her.\n\n\"How queer you are today!\" Dolly said to her.\n\n\"I? Do you think so? I'm not queer, but I'm nasty. I am like that\nsometimes. I keep feeling as if I could cry. It's very stupid, but it'll\npass off,\" said Anna quickly, and she bent her flushed face over a tiny\nbag in which she was packing a nightcap and some cambric handkerchiefs.\nHer eyes were particularly bright, and were continually swimming with\ntears. \"In the same way I didn't want to leave Petersburg, and now I\ndon't want to go away from here.\"\n\n\"You came here and did a good deed,\" said Dolly, looking intently at\nher.\n\nAnna looked at her with eyes wet with tears.\n\n\"Don't say that, Dolly. I've done nothing, and could do nothing. I often\nwonder why people are all in league to spoil me. What have I done, and\nwhat could I do? In your heart there was found love enough to\nforgive...\"\n\n\"If it had not been for you, God knows what would have happened! How\nhappy you are, Anna!\" said Dolly. \"Everything is clear and good in your\nheart.\"\n\n\"Every heart has its own _skeletons_, as the English say.\"\n\n\"You have no sort of _skeleton_, have you? Everything is so clear in\nyou.\"\n\n\"I have!\" said Anna suddenly, and, unexpectedly after her tears, a sly,\nironical smile curved her lips.\n\n\"Come, he's amusing, anyway, your _skeleton_, and not depressing,\" said\nDolly, smiling.\n\n\"No, he's depressing. Do you know why I'm going today instead of\ntomorrow? It's a confession that weighs on me; I want to make it to\nyou,\" said Anna, letting herself drop definitely into an armchair, and\nlooking straight into Dolly's face.\n\nAnd to her surprise Dolly saw that Anna was blushing up to her ears, up\nto the curly black ringlets on her neck.\n\n\"Yes,\" Anna went on. \"Do you know why Kitty didn't come to dinner? She's\njealous of me. I have spoiled ... I've been the cause of that ball being\na torture to her instead of a pleasure. But truly, truly, it's not my\nfault, or only my fault a little bit,\" she said, daintily drawling the\nwords \"a little bit.\"\n\n\"Oh, how like Stiva you said that!\" said Dolly, laughing.\n\nAnna was hurt.\n\n\"Oh no, oh no! I'm not Stiva,\" she said, knitting her brows. \"That's why\nI'm telling you, just because I could never let myself doubt myself for\nan instant,\" said Anna.\n\nBut at the very moment she was uttering the words, she felt that they\nwere not true. She was not merely doubting herself, she felt emotion at\nthe thought of Vronsky, and was going away sooner than she had meant,\nsimply to avoid meeting him.\n\n\"Yes, Stiva told me you danced the mazurka with him, and that he...\"\n\n\"You can't imagine how absurdly it all came about. I only meant to be\nmatchmaking, and all at once it turned out quite differently. Possibly\nagainst my own will...\"\n\nShe crimsoned and stopped.\n\n\"Oh, they feel it directly?\" said Dolly.\n\n\"But I should be in despair if there were anything serious in it on his\nside,\" Anna interrupted her. \"And I am certain it will all be forgotten,\nand Kitty will leave off hating me.\"\n\n\"All the same, Anna, to tell you the truth, I'm not very anxious for\nthis marriage for Kitty. And it's better it should come to nothing, if\nhe, Vronsky, is capable of falling in love with you in a single day.\"\n\n\"Oh, heavens, that would be too silly!\" said Anna, and again a deep\nflush of pleasure came out on her face, when she heard the idea, that\nabsorbed her, put into words. \"And so here I am going away, having made\nan enemy of Kitty, whom I liked so much! Ah, how sweet she is! But\nyou'll make it right, Dolly? Eh?\"\n\nDolly could scarcely suppress a smile. She loved Anna, but she enjoyed\nseeing that she too had her weaknesses.\n\n\"An enemy? That can't be.\"\n\n\"I did so want you all to care for me, as I do for you, and now I care\nfor you more than ever,\" said Anna, with tears in her eyes. \"Ah, how\nsilly I am today!\"\n\nShe passed her handkerchief over her face and began dressing.\n\nAt the very moment of starting Stepan Arkadyevitch arrived, late, rosy\nand good-humored, smelling of wine and cigars.\n\nAnna's emotionalism infected Dolly, and when she embraced her\nsister-in-law for the last time, she whispered: \"Remember, Anna, what\nyou've done for me--I shall never forget. And remember that I love you,\nand shall always love you as my dearest friend!\"\n\n\"I don't know why,\" said Anna, kissing her and hiding her tears.\n\n\"You understood me, and you understand. Good-bye, my darling!\"\n\n\n\nChapter 29\n\n\n\"Come, it's all over, and thank God!\" was the first thought that came to\nAnna Arkadyevna, when she had said good-bye for the last time to her\nbrother, who had stood blocking up the entrance to the carriage till the\nthird bell rang. She sat down on her lounge beside Annushka, and looked\nabout her in the twilight of the sleeping-carriage. \"Thank God! tomorrow\nI shall see Seryozha and Alexey Alexandrovitch, and my life will go on\nin the old way, all nice and as usual.\"\n\nStill in the same anxious frame of mind, as she had been all that day,\nAnna took pleasure in arranging herself for the journey with great care.\nWith her little deft hands she opened and shut her little red bag, took\nout a cushion, laid it on her knees, and carefully wrapping up her feet,\nsettled herself comfortably. An invalid lady had already lain down to\nsleep. Two other ladies began talking to Anna, and a stout elderly lady\ntucked up her feet, and made observations about the heating of the\ntrain. Anna answered a few words, but not foreseeing any entertainment\nfrom the conversation, she asked Annushka to get a lamp, hooked it onto\nthe arm of her seat, and took from her bag a paper knife and an English\nnovel. At first her reading made no progress. The fuss and bustle were\ndisturbing; then when the train had started, she could not help\nlistening to the noises; then the snow beating on the left window and\nsticking to the pane, and the sight of the muffled guard passing by,\ncovered with snow on one side, and the conversations about the terrible\nsnowstorm raging outside, distracted her attention. Farther on, it was\ncontinually the same again and again: the same shaking and rattling, the\nsame snow on the window, the same rapid transitions from steaming heat\nto cold, and back again to heat, the same passing glimpses of the same\nfigures in the twilight, and the same voices, and Anna began to read and\nto understand what she read. Annushka was already dozing, the red bag on\nher lap, clutched by her broad hands, in gloves, of which one was torn.\nAnna Arkadyevna read and understood, but it was distasteful to her to\nread, that is, to follow the reflection of other people's lives. She had\ntoo great a desire to live herself. If she read that the heroine of the\nnovel was nursing a sick man, she longed to move with noiseless steps\nabout the room of a sick man; if she read of a member of Parliament\nmaking a speech, she longed to be delivering the speech; if she read of\nhow Lady Mary had ridden after the hounds, and had provoked her\nsister-in-law, and had surprised everyone by her boldness, she too\nwished to be doing the same. But there was no chance of doing anything;\nand twisting the smooth paper knife in her little hands, she forced\nherself to read.\n\nThe hero of the novel was already almost reaching his English happiness,\na baronetcy and an estate, and Anna was feeling a desire to go with him\nto the estate, when she suddenly felt that _he_ ought to feel ashamed,\nand that she was ashamed of the same thing. But what had he to be\nashamed of? \"What have I to be ashamed of?\" she asked herself in injured\nsurprise. She laid down the book and sank against the back of the chair,\ntightly gripping the paper cutter in both hands. There was nothing. She\nwent over all her Moscow recollections. All were good, pleasant. She\nremembered the ball, remembered Vronsky and his face of slavish\nadoration, remembered all her conduct with him: there was nothing\nshameful. And for all that, at the same point in her memories, the\nfeeling of shame was intensified, as though some inner voice, just at\nthe point when she thought of Vronsky, were saying to her, \"Warm, very\nwarm, hot.\" \"Well, what is it?\" she said to herself resolutely, shifting\nher seat in the lounge. \"What does it mean? Am I afraid to look it\nstraight in the face? Why, what is it? Can it be that between me and\nthis officer boy there exist, or can exist, any other relations than\nsuch as are common with every acquaintance?\" She laughed contemptuously\nand took up her book again; but now she was definitely unable to follow\nwhat she read. She passed the paper knife over the window pane, then\nlaid its smooth, cool surface to her cheek, and almost laughed aloud at\nthe feeling of delight that all at once without cause came over her. She\nfelt as though her nerves were strings being strained tighter and\ntighter on some sort of screwing peg. She felt her eyes opening wider\nand wider, her fingers and toes twitching nervously, something within\noppressing her breathing, while all shapes and sounds seemed in the\nuncertain half-light to strike her with unaccustomed vividness. Moments\nof doubt were continually coming upon her, when she was uncertain\nwhether the train were going forwards or backwards, or were standing\nstill altogether; whether it were Annushka at her side or a stranger.\n\"What's that on the arm of the chair, a fur cloak or some beast? And\nwhat am I myself? Myself or some other woman?\" She was afraid of giving\nway to this delirium. But something drew her towards it, and she could\nyield to it or resist it at will. She got up to rouse herself, and\nslipped off her plaid and the cape of her warm dress. For a moment she\nregained her self-possession, and realized that the thin peasant who had\ncome in wearing a long overcoat, with buttons missing from it, was the\nstoveheater, that he was looking at the thermometer, that it was the\nwind and snow bursting in after him at the door; but then everything\ngrew blurred again.... That peasant with the long waist seemed to be\ngnawing something on the wall, the old lady began stretching her legs\nthe whole length of the carriage, and filling it with a black cloud;\nthen there was a fearful shrieking and banging, as though someone were\nbeing torn to pieces; then there was a blinding dazzle of red fire\nbefore her eyes and a wall seemed to rise up and hide everything. Anna\nfelt as though she were sinking down. But it was not terrible, but\ndelightful. The voice of a man muffled up and covered with snow shouted\nsomething in her ear. She got up and pulled herself together; she\nrealized that they had reached a station and that this was the guard.\nShe asked Annushka to hand her the cape she had taken off and her shawl,\nput them on and moved towards the door.\n\n\"Do you wish to get out?\" asked Annushka.\n\n\"Yes, I want a little air. It's very hot in here.\" And she opened the\ndoor. The driving snow and the wind rushed to meet her and struggled\nwith her over the door. But she enjoyed the struggle.\n\nShe opened the door and went out. The wind seemed as though lying in\nwait for her; with gleeful whistle it tried to snatch her up and bear\nher off, but she clung to the cold door post, and holding her skirt got\ndown onto the platform and under the shelter of the carriages. The wind\nhad been powerful on the steps, but on the platform, under the lee of\nthe carriages, there was a lull. With enjoyment she drew deep breaths of\nthe frozen, snowy air, and standing near the carriage looked about the\nplatform and the lighted station.\n\n\n\nChapter 30\n\n\nThe raging tempest rushed whistling between the wheels of the carriages,\nabout the scaffolding, and round the corner of the station. The\ncarriages, posts, people, everything that was to be seen was covered\nwith snow on one side, and was getting more and more thickly covered.\nFor a moment there would come a lull in the storm, but then it would\nswoop down again with such onslaughts that it seemed impossible to stand\nagainst it. Meanwhile men ran to and fro, talking merrily together,\ntheir steps crackling on the platform as they continually opened and\nclosed the big doors. The bent shadow of a man glided by at her feet,\nand she heard sounds of a hammer upon iron. \"Hand over that telegram!\"\ncame an angry voice out of the stormy darkness on the other side. \"This\nway! No. 28!\" several different voices shouted again, and muffled\nfigures ran by covered with snow. Two gentlemen with lighted cigarettes\npassed by her. She drew one more deep breath of the fresh air, and had\njust put her hand out of her muff to take hold of the door post and get\nback into the carriage, when another man in a military overcoat, quite\nclose beside her, stepped between her and the flickering light of the\nlamp post. She looked round, and the same instant recognized Vronsky's\nface. Putting his hand to the peak of his cap, he bowed to her and\nasked, Was there anything she wanted? Could he be of any service to her?\nShe gazed rather a long while at him without answering, and, in spite of\nthe shadow in which he was standing, she saw, or fancied she saw, both\nthe expression of his face and his eyes. It was again that expression of\nreverential ecstasy which had so worked upon her the day before. More\nthan once she had told herself during the past few days, and again only\na few moments before, that Vronsky was for her only one of the hundreds\nof young men, forever exactly the same, that are met everywhere, that\nshe would never allow herself to bestow a thought upon him. But now at\nthe first instant of meeting him, she was seized by a feeling of joyful\npride. She had no need to ask why he had come. She knew as certainly as\nif he had told her that he was here to be where she was.\n\n\"I didn't know you were going. What are you coming for?\" she said,\nletting fall the hand with which she had grasped the door post. And\nirrepressible delight and eagerness shone in her face.\n\n\"What am I coming for?\" he repeated, looking straight into her eyes.\n\"You know that I have come to be where you are,\" he said; \"I can't help\nit.\"\n\nAt that moment the wind, as it were, surmounting all obstacles, sent the\nsnow flying from the carriage roofs, and clanked some sheet of iron it\nhad torn off, while the hoarse whistle of the engine roared in front,\nplaintively and gloomily. All the awfulness of the storm seemed to her\nmore splendid now. He had said what her soul longed to hear, though she\nfeared it with her reason. She made no answer, and in her face he saw\nconflict.\n\n\"Forgive me, if you dislike what I said,\" he said humbly.\n\nHe had spoken courteously, deferentially, yet so firmly, so stubbornly,\nthat for a long while she could make no answer.\n\n\"It's wrong, what you say, and I beg you, if you're a good man, to\nforget what you've said, as I forget it,\" she said at last.\n\n\"Not one word, not one gesture of yours shall I, could I, ever\nforget...\"\n\n\"Enough, enough!\" she cried trying assiduously to give a stern\nexpression to her face, into which he was gazing greedily. And clutching\nat the cold door post, she clambered up the steps and got rapidly into\nthe corridor of the carriage. But in the little corridor she paused,\ngoing over in her imagination what had happened. Though she could not\nrecall her own words or his, she realized instinctively that the\nmomentary conversation had brought them fearfully closer; and she was\npanic-stricken and blissful at it. After standing still a few seconds,\nshe went into the carriage and sat down in her place. The overstrained\ncondition which had tormented her before did not only come back, but was\nintensified, and reached such a pitch that she was afraid every minute\nthat something would snap within her from the excessive tension. She did\nnot sleep all night. But in that nervous tension, and in the visions\nthat filled her imagination, there was nothing disagreeable or gloomy:\non the contrary there was something blissful, glowing, and exhilarating.\nTowards morning Anna sank into a doze, sitting in her place, and when\nshe waked it was daylight and the train was near Petersburg. At once\nthoughts of home, of husband and of son, and the details of that day and\nthe following came upon her.\n\nAt Petersburg, as soon as the train stopped and she got out, the first\nperson that attracted her attention was her husband. \"Oh, mercy! why do\nhis ears look like that?\" she thought, looking at his frigid and\nimposing figure, and especially the ears that struck her at the moment\nas propping up the brim of his round hat. Catching sight of her, he came\nto meet her, his lips falling into their habitual sarcastic smile, and\nhis big, tired eyes looking straight at her. An unpleasant sensation\ngripped at her heart when she met his obstinate and weary glance, as\nthough she had expected to see him different. She was especially struck\nby the feeling of dissatisfaction with herself that she experienced on\nmeeting him. That feeling was an intimate, familiar feeling, like a\nconsciousness of hypocrisy, which she experienced in her relations with\nher husband. But hitherto she had not taken note of the feeling, now she\nwas clearly and painfully aware of it.\n\n\"Yes, as you see, your tender spouse, as devoted as the first year after\nmarriage, burned with impatience to see you,\" he said in his deliberate,\nhigh-pitched voice, and in that tone which he almost always took with\nher, a tone of jeering at anyone who should say in earnest what he said.\n\n\"Is Seryozha quite well?\" she asked.\n\n\"And is this all the reward,\" said he, \"for my ardor? He's quite\nwell...\"\n\n\n\nChapter 31\n\n\nVronsky had not even tried to sleep all that night. He sat in his\narmchair, looking straight before him or scanning the people who got in\nand out. If he had indeed on previous occasions struck and impressed\npeople who did not know him by his air of unhesitating composure, he\nseemed now more haughty and self-possessed than ever. He looked at\npeople as if they were things. A nervous young man, a clerk in a law\ncourt, sitting opposite him, hated him for that look. The young man\nasked him for a light, and entered into conversation with him, and even\npushed against him, to make him feel that he was not a thing, but a\nperson. But Vronsky gazed at him exactly as he did at the lamp, and the\nyoung man made a wry face, feeling that he was losing his\nself-possession under the oppression of this refusal to recognize him as\na person.\n\nVronsky saw nothing and no one. He felt himself a king, not because he\nbelieved that he had made an impression on Anna--he did not yet believe\nthat,--but because the impression she had made on him gave him happiness\nand pride.\n\nWhat would come of it all he did not know, he did not even think. He\nfelt that all his forces, hitherto dissipated, wasted, were centered on\none thing, and bent with fearful energy on one blissful goal. And he was\nhappy at it. He knew only that he had told her the truth, that he had\ncome where she was, that all the happiness of his life, the only meaning\nin life for him, now lay in seeing and hearing her. And when he got out\nof the carriage at Bologova to get some seltzer water, and caught sight\nof Anna, involuntarily his first word had told her just what he thought.\nAnd he was glad he had told her it, that she knew it now and was\nthinking of it. He did not sleep all night. When he was back in the\ncarriage, he kept unceasingly going over every position in which he had\nseen her, every word she had uttered, and before his fancy, making his\nheart faint with emotion, floated pictures of a possible future.\n\nWhen he got out of the train at Petersburg, he felt after his sleepless\nnight as keen and fresh as after a cold bath. He paused near his\ncompartment, waiting for her to get out. \"Once more,\" he said to\nhimself, smiling unconsciously, \"once more I shall see her walk, her\nface; she will say something, turn her head, glance, smile, maybe.\" But\nbefore he caught sight of her, he saw her husband, whom the\nstation-master was deferentially escorting through the crowd. \"Ah, yes!\nThe husband.\" Only now for the first time did Vronsky realize clearly\nthe fact that there was a person attached to her, a husband. He knew\nthat she had a husband, but had hardly believed in his existence, and\nonly now fully believed in him, with his head and shoulders, and his\nlegs clad in black trousers; especially when he saw this husband calmly\ntake her arm with a sense of property.\n\nSeeing Alexey Alexandrovitch with his Petersburg face and severely\nself-confident figure, in his round hat, with his rather prominent\nspine, he believed in him, and was aware of a disagreeable sensation,\nsuch as a man might feel tortured by thirst, who, on reaching a spring,\nshould find a dog, a sheep, or a pig, who has drunk of it and muddied\nthe water. Alexey Alexandrovitch's manner of walking, with a swing of\nthe hips and flat feet, particularly annoyed Vronsky. He could recognize\nin no one but himself an indubitable right to love her. But she was\nstill the same, and the sight of her affected him the same way,\nphysically reviving him, stirring him, and filling his soul with\nrapture. He told his German valet, who ran up to him from the second\nclass, to take his things and go on, and he himself went up to her. He\nsaw the first meeting between the husband and wife, and noted with a\nlover's insight the signs of slight reserve with which she spoke to her\nhusband. \"No, she does not love him and cannot love him,\" he decided to\nhimself.\n\nAt the moment when he was approaching Anna Arkadyevna he noticed too\nwith joy that she was conscious of his being near, and looked round, and\nseeing him, turned again to her husband.\n\n\"Have you passed a good night?\" he asked, bowing to her and her husband\ntogether, and leaving it up to Alexey Alexandrovitch to accept the bow\non his own account, and to recognize it or not, as he might see fit.\n\n\"Thank you, very good,\" she answered.\n\nHer face looked weary, and there was not that play of eagerness in it,\npeeping out in her smile and her eyes; but for a single instant, as she\nglanced at him, there was a flash of something in her eyes, and although\nthe flash died away at once, he was happy for that moment. She glanced\nat her husband to find out whether he knew Vronsky. Alexey\nAlexandrovitch looked at Vronsky with displeasure, vaguely recalling who\nthis was. Vronsky's composure and self-confidence here struck, like a\nscythe against a stone, upon the cold self-confidence of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch.\n\n\"Count Vronsky,\" said Anna.\n\n\"Ah! We are acquainted, I believe,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch\nindifferently, giving his hand.\n\n\"You set off with the mother and you return with the son,\" he said,\narticulating each syllable, as though each were a separate favor he was\nbestowing.\n\n\"You're back from leave, I suppose?\" he said, and without waiting for a\nreply, he turned to his wife in his jesting tone: \"Well, were a great\nmany tears shed at Moscow at parting?\"\n\nBy addressing his wife like this he gave Vronsky to understand that he\nwished to be left alone, and, turning slightly towards him, he touched\nhis hat; but Vronsky turned to Anna Arkadyevna.\n\n\"I hope I may have the honor of calling on you,\" he said.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch glanced with his weary eyes at Vronsky.\n\n\"Delighted,\" he said coldly. \"On Mondays we're at home. Most fortunate,\"\nhe said to his wife, dismissing Vronsky altogether, \"that I should just\nhave half an hour to meet you, so that I can prove my devotion,\" he went\non in the same jesting tone.\n\n\"You lay too much stress on your devotion for me to value it much,\" she\nresponded in the same jesting tone, involuntarily listening to the sound\nof Vronsky's steps behind them. \"But what has it to do with me?\" she\nsaid to herself, and she began asking her husband how Seryozha had got\non without her.\n\n\"Oh, capitally! Mariette says he has been very good, And ... I must\ndisappoint you ... but he has not missed you as your husband has. But\nonce more _merci,_ my dear, for giving me a day. Our dear _Samovar_ will\nbe delighted.\" (He used to call the Countess Lidia Ivanovna, well known\nin society, a samovar, because she was always bubbling over with\nexcitement.) \"She has been continually asking after you. And, do you\nknow, if I may venture to advise you, you should go and see her today.\nYou know how she takes everything to heart. Just now, with all her own\ncares, she's anxious about the Oblonskys being brought together.\"\n\nThe Countess Lidia Ivanovna was a friend of her husband's, and the\ncenter of that one of the coteries of the Petersburg world with which\nAnna was, through her husband, in the closest relations.\n\n\"But you know I wrote to her?\"\n\n\"Still she'll want to hear details. Go and see her, if you're not too\ntired, my dear. Well, Kondraty will take you in the carriage, while I go\nto my committee. I shall not be alone at dinner again,\" Alexey\nAlexandrovitch went on, no longer in a sarcastic tone. \"You wouldn't\nbelieve how I've missed...\" And with a long pressure of her hand and a\nmeaning smile, he put her in her carriage.\n\n\n\nChapter 32\n\n\nThe first person to meet Anna at home was her son. He dashed down the\nstairs to her, in spite of the governess's call, and with desperate joy\nshrieked: \"Mother! mother!\" Running up to her, he hung on her neck.\n\n\"I told you it was mother!\" he shouted to the governess. \"I knew!\"\n\nAnd her son, like her husband, aroused in Anna a feeling akin to\ndisappointment. She had imagined him better than he was in reality. She\nhad to let herself drop down to the reality to enjoy him as he really\nwas. But even as he was, he was charming, with his fair curls, his blue\neyes, and his plump, graceful little legs in tightly pulled-up\nstockings. Anna experienced almost physical pleasure in the sensation of\nhis nearness, and his caresses, and moral soothing, when she met his\nsimple, confiding, and loving glance, and heard his naive questions.\nAnna took out the presents Dolly's children had sent him, and told her\nson what sort of little girl was Tanya at Moscow, and how Tanya could\nread, and even taught the other children.\n\n\"Why, am I not so nice as she?\" asked Seryozha.\n\n\"To me you're nicer than anyone in the world.\"\n\n\"I know that,\" said Seryozha, smiling.\n\nAnna had not had time to drink her coffee when the Countess Lidia\nIvanovna was announced. The Countess Lidia Ivanovna was a tall, stout\nwoman, with an unhealthily sallow face and splendid, pensive black eyes.\nAnna liked her, but today she seemed to be seeing her for the first time\nwith all her defects.\n\n\"Well, my dear, so you took the olive branch?\" inquired Countess Lidia\nIvanovna, as soon as she came into the room.\n\n\"Yes, it's all over, but it was all much less serious than we had\nsupposed,\" answered Anna. \"My _belle-soeur_ is in general too hasty.\"\n\nBut Countess Lidia Ivanovna, though she was interested in everything\nthat did not concern her, had a habit of never listening to what\ninterested her; she interrupted Anna:\n\n\"Yes, there's plenty of sorrow and evil in the world. I am so worried\ntoday.\"\n\n\"Oh, why?\" asked Anna, trying to suppress a smile.\n\n\"I'm beginning to be weary of fruitlessly championing the truth, and\nsometimes I'm quite unhinged by it. The Society of the Little Sisters\"\n(this was a religiously-patriotic, philanthropic institution) \"was going\nsplendidly, but with these gentlemen it's impossible to do anything,\"\nadded Countess Lidia Ivanovna in a tone of ironical submission to\ndestiny. \"They pounce on the idea, and distort it, and then work it out\nso pettily and unworthily. Two or three people, your husband among them,\nunderstand all the importance of the thing, but the others simply drag\nit down. Yesterday Pravdin wrote to me...\"\n\nPravdin was a well-known Panslavist abroad, and Countess Lidia Ivanovna\ndescribed the purport of his letter.\n\nThen the countess told her of more disagreements and intrigues against\nthe work of the unification of the churches, and departed in haste, as\nshe had that day to be at the meeting of some society and also at the\nSlavonic committee.\n\n\"It was all the same before, of course; but why was it I didn't notice\nit before?\" Anna asked herself. \"Or has she been very much irritated\ntoday? It's really ludicrous; her object is doing good; she a Christian,\nyet she's always angry; and she always has enemies, and always enemies\nin the name of Christianity and doing good.\"\n\nAfter Countess Lidia Ivanovna another friend came, the wife of a chief\nsecretary, who told her all the news of the town. At three o'clock she\ntoo went away, promising to come to dinner. Alexey Alexandrovitch was at\nthe ministry. Anna, left alone, spent the time till dinner in assisting\nat her son's dinner (he dined apart from his parents) and in putting her\nthings in order, and in reading and answering the notes and letters\nwhich had accumulated on her table.\n\nThe feeling of causeless shame, which she had felt on the journey, and\nher excitement, too, had completely vanished. In the habitual conditions\nof her life she felt again resolute and irreproachable.\n\nShe recalled with wonder her state of mind on the previous day. \"What\nwas it? Nothing. Vronsky said something silly, which it was easy to put\na stop to, and I answered as I ought to have done. To speak of it to my\nhusband would be unnecessary and out of the question. To speak of it\nwould be to attach importance to what has no importance.\" She remembered\nhow she had told her husband of what was almost a declaration made her\nat Petersburg by a young man, one of her husband's subordinates, and how\nAlexey Alexandrovitch had answered that every woman living in the world\nwas exposed to such incidents, but that he had the fullest confidence in\nher tact, and could never lower her and himself by jealousy. \"So then\nthere's no reason to speak of it? And indeed, thank God, there's nothing\nto speak of,\" she told herself.\n\n\n\nChapter 33\n\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch came back from the meeting of the ministers at\nfour o'clock, but as often happened, he had not time to come in to her.\nHe went into his study to see the people waiting for him with petitions,\nand to sign some papers brought him by his chief secretary. At dinner\ntime (there were always a few people dining with the Karenins) there\narrived an old lady, a cousin of Alexey Alexandrovitch, the chief\nsecretary of the department and his wife, and a young man who had been\nrecommended to Alexey Alexandrovitch for the service. Anna went into the\ndrawing room to receive these guests. Precisely at five o'clock, before\nthe bronze Peter the First clock had struck the fifth stroke, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch came in, wearing a white tie and evening coat with two\nstars, as he had to go out directly after dinner. Every minute of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's life was portioned out and occupied. And to make time\nto get through all that lay before him every day, he adhered to the\nstrictest punctuality. \"Unhasting and unresting,\" was his motto. He came\ninto the dining hall, greeted everyone, and hurriedly sat down, smiling\nto his wife.\n\n\"Yes, my solitude is over. You wouldn't believe how uncomfortable\" (he\nlaid stress on the word _uncomfortable_) \"it is to dine alone.\"\n\nAt dinner he talked a little to his wife about Moscow matters, and, with\na sarcastic smile, asked her after Stepan Arkadyevitch; but the\nconversation was for the most part general, dealing with Petersburg\nofficial and public news. After dinner he spent half an hour with his\nguests, and again, with a smile, pressed his wife's hand, withdrew, and\ndrove off to the council. Anna did not go out that evening either to the\nPrincess Betsy Tverskaya, who, hearing of her return, had invited her,\nnor to the theater, where she had a box for that evening. She did not go\nout principally because the dress she had reckoned upon was not ready.\nAltogether, Anna, on turning, after the departure of her guests, to the\nconsideration of her attire, was very much annoyed. She was generally a\nmistress of the art of dressing well without great expense, and before\nleaving Moscow she had given her dressmaker three dresses to transform.\nThe dresses had to be altered so that they could not be recognized, and\nthey ought to have been ready three days before. It appeared that two\ndresses had not been done at all, while the other one had not been\naltered as Anna had intended. The dressmaker came to explain, declaring\nthat it would be better as she had done it, and Anna was so furious that\nshe felt ashamed when she thought of it afterwards. To regain her\nserenity completely she went into the nursery, and spent the whole\nevening with her son, put him to bed herself, signed him with the cross,\nand tucked him up. She was glad she had not gone out anywhere, and had\nspent the evening so well. She felt so light-hearted and serene, she saw\nso clearly that all that had seemed to her so important on her railway\njourney was only one of the common trivial incidents of fashionable\nlife, and that she had no reason to feel ashamed before anyone else or\nbefore herself. Anna sat down at the hearth with an English novel and\nwaited for her husband. Exactly at half-past nine she heard his ring,\nand he came into the room.\n\n\"Here you are at last!\" she observed, holding out her hand to him.\n\nHe kissed her hand and sat down beside her.\n\n\"Altogether then, I see your visit was a success,\" he said to her.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" she said, and she began telling him about everything from the\nbeginning: her journey with Countess Vronskaya, her arrival, the\naccident at the station. Then she described the pity she had felt, first\nfor her brother, and afterwards for Dolly.\n\n\"I imagine one cannot exonerate such a man from blame, though he is your\nbrother,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch severely.\n\nAnna smiled. She knew that he said that simply to show that family\nconsiderations could not prevent him from expressing his genuine\nopinion. She knew that characteristic in her husband, and liked it.\n\n\"I am glad it has all ended so satisfactorily, and that you are back\nagain,\" he went on. \"Come, what do they say about the new act I have got\npassed in the council?\"\n\nAnna had heard nothing of this act, and she felt conscience-stricken at\nhaving been able so readily to forget what was to him of such\nimportance.\n\n\"Here, on the other hand, it has made a great sensation,\" he said, with\na complacent smile.\n\nShe saw that Alexey Alexandrovitch wanted to tell her something pleasant\nto him about it, and she brought him by questions to telling it. With\nthe same complacent smile he told her of the ovations he had received in\nconsequence of the act he had passed.\n\n\"I was very, very glad. It shows that at last a reasonable and steady\nview of the matter is becoming prevalent among us.\"\n\nHaving drunk his second cup of tea with cream, and bread, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch got up, and was going towards his study.\n\n\"And you've not been anywhere this evening? You've been dull, I expect?\"\nhe said.\n\n\"Oh, no!\" she answered, getting up after him and accompanying him across\nthe room to his study. \"What are you reading now?\" she asked.\n\n\"Just now I'm reading Duc de Lille, _Poesie des Enfers,_\" he answered.\n\"A very remarkable book.\"\n\nAnna smiled, as people smile at the weaknesses of those they love, and,\nputting her hand under his, she escorted him to the door of the study.\nShe knew his habit, that had grown into a necessity, of reading in the\nevening. She knew, too, that in spite of his official duties, which\nswallowed up almost the whole of his time, he considered it his duty to\nkeep up with everything of note that appeared in the intellectual world.\nShe knew, too, that he was really interested in books dealing with\npolitics, philosophy, and theology, that art was utterly foreign to his\nnature; but, in spite of this, or rather, in consequence of it, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch never passed over anything in the world of art, but made\nit his duty to read everything. She knew that in politics, in\nphilosophy, in theology, Alexey Alexandrovitch often had doubts, and\nmade investigations; but on questions of art and poetry, and, above all,\nof music, of which he was totally devoid of understanding, he had the\nmost distinct and decided opinions. He was fond of talking about\nShakespeare, Raphael, Beethoven, of the significance of new schools of\npoetry and music, all of which were classified by him with very\nconspicuous consistency.\n\n\"Well, God be with you,\" she said at the door of the study, where a\nshaded candle and a decanter of water were already put by his armchair.\n\"And I'll write to Moscow.\"\n\nHe pressed her hand, and again kissed it.\n\n\"All the same he's a good man; truthful, good-hearted, and remarkable in\nhis own line,\" Anna said to herself going back to her room, as though\nshe were defending him to someone who had attacked him and said that one\ncould not love him. \"But why is it his ears stick out so strangely? Or\nhas he had his hair cut?\"\n\nPrecisely at twelve o'clock, when Anna was still sitting at her writing\ntable, finishing a letter to Dolly, she heard the sound of measured\nsteps in slippers, and Alexey Alexandrovitch, freshly washed and combed,\nwith a book under his arm, came in to her.\n\n\"It's time, it's time,\" said he, with a meaning smile, and he went into\ntheir bedroom.\n\n\"And what right had he to look at him like that?\" thought Anna,\nrecalling Vronsky's glance at Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\nUndressing, she went into the bedroom; but her face had none of the\neagerness which, during her stay in Moscow, had fairly flashed from her\neyes and her smile; on the contrary, now the fire seemed quenched in\nher, hidden somewhere far away.\n\n\n\nChapter 34\n\n\nWhen Vronsky went to Moscow from Petersburg, he had left his large set\nof rooms in Morskaia to his friend and favorite comrade Petritsky.\n\nPetritsky was a young lieutenant, not particularly well-connected, and\nnot merely not wealthy, but always hopelessly in debt. Towards evening\nhe was always drunk, and he had often been locked up after all sorts of\nludicrous and disgraceful scandals, but he was a favorite both of his\ncomrades and his superior officers. On arriving at twelve o'clock from\nthe station at his flat, Vronsky saw, at the outer door, a hired\ncarriage familiar to him. While still outside his own door, as he rang,\nhe heard masculine laughter, the lisp of a feminine voice, and\nPetritsky's voice. \"If that's one of the villains, don't let him in!\"\nVronsky told the servant not to announce him, and slipped quietly into\nthe first room. Baroness Shilton, a friend of Petritsky's, with a rosy\nlittle face and flaxen hair, resplendent in a lilac satin gown, and\nfilling the whole room, like a canary, with her Parisian chatter, sat at\nthe round table making coffee. Petritsky, in his overcoat, and the\ncavalry captain Kamerovsky, in full uniform, probably just come from\nduty, were sitting each side of her.\n\n\"Bravo! Vronsky!\" shouted Petritsky, jumping up, scraping his chair.\n\"Our host himself! Baroness, some coffee for him out of the new coffee\npot. Why, we didn't expect you! Hope you're satisfied with the ornament\nof your study,\" he said, indicating the baroness. \"You know each other,\nof course?\"\n\n\"I should think so,\" said Vronsky, with a bright smile, pressing the\nbaroness's little hand. \"What next! I'm an old friend.\"\n\n\"You're home after a journey,\" said the baroness, \"so I'm flying. Oh,\nI'll be off this minute, if I'm in the way.\"\n\n\"You're home, wherever you are, baroness,\" said Vronsky. \"How do you do,\nKamerovsky?\" he added, coldly shaking hands with Kamerovsky.\n\n\"There, you never know how to say such pretty things,\" said the\nbaroness, turning to Petritsky.\n\n\"No; what's that for? After dinner I say things quite as good.\"\n\n\"After dinner there's no credit in them? Well, then, I'll make you some\ncoffee, so go and wash and get ready,\" said the baroness, sitting down\nagain, and anxiously turning the screw in the new coffee pot. \"Pierre,\ngive me the coffee,\" she said, addressing Petritsky, whom she called\nPierre as a contraction of his surname, making no secret of her\nrelations with him. \"I'll put it in.\"\n\n\"You'll spoil it!\"\n\n\"No, I won't spoil it! Well, and your wife?\" said the baroness suddenly,\ninterrupting Vronsky's conversation with his comrade. \"We've been\nmarrying you here. Have you brought your wife?\"\n\n\"No, baroness. I was born a Bohemian, and a Bohemian I shall die.\"\n\n\"So much the better, so much the better. Shake hands on it.\"\n\nAnd the baroness, detaining Vronsky, began telling him, with many jokes,\nabout her last new plans of life, asking his advice.\n\n\"He persists in refusing to give me a divorce! Well, what am I to do?\"\n(_He_ was her husband.) \"Now I want to begin a suit against him. What do\nyou advise? Kamerovsky, look after the coffee; it's boiling over. You\nsee, I'm engrossed with business! I want a lawsuit, because I must have\nmy property. Do you understand the folly of it, that on the pretext of\nmy being unfaithful to him,\" she said contemptuously, \"he wants to get\nthe benefit of my fortune.\"\n\nVronsky heard with pleasure this light-hearted prattle of a pretty\nwoman, agreed with her, gave her half-joking counsel, and altogether\ndropped at once into the tone habitual to him in talking to such women.\nIn his Petersburg world all people were divided into utterly opposed\nclasses. One, the lower class, vulgar, stupid, and, above all,\nridiculous people, who believe that one husband ought to live with the\none wife whom he has lawfully married; that a girl should be innocent, a\nwoman modest, and a man manly, self-controlled, and strong; that one\nought to bring up one's children, earn one's bread, and pay one's debts;\nand various similar absurdities. This was the class of old-fashioned and\nridiculous people. But there was another class of people, the real\npeople. To this class they all belonged, and in it the great thing was\nto be elegant, generous, plucky, gay, to abandon oneself without a blush\nto every passion, and to laugh at everything else.\n\nFor the first moment only, Vronsky was startled after the impression of\na quite different world that he had brought with him from Moscow. But\nimmediately as though slipping his feet into old slippers, he dropped\nback into the light-hearted, pleasant world he had always lived in.\n\nThe coffee was never really made, but spluttered over every one, and\nboiled away, doing just what was required of it--that is, providing much\ncause for much noise and laughter, and spoiling a costly rug and the\nbaroness's gown.\n\n\"Well now, good-bye, or you'll never get washed, and I shall have on my\nconscience the worst sin a gentleman can commit. So you would advise a\nknife to his throat?\"\n\n\"To be sure, and manage that your hand may not be far from his lips.\nHe'll kiss your hand, and all will end satisfactorily,\" answered\nVronsky.\n\n\"So at the Francais!\" and, with a rustle of her skirts, she vanished.\n\nKamerovsky got up too, and Vronsky, not waiting for him to go, shook\nhands and went off to his dressing room.\n\nWhile he was washing, Petritsky described to him in brief outlines his\nposition, as far as it had changed since Vronsky had left Petersburg. No\nmoney at all. His father said he wouldn't give him any and pay his\ndebts. His tailor was trying to get him locked up, and another fellow,\ntoo, was threatening to get him locked up. The colonel of the regiment\nhad announced that if these scandals did not cease he would have to\nleave. As for the baroness, he was sick to death of her, especially\nsince she'd taken to offering continually to lend him money. But he had\nfound a girl--he'd show her to Vronsky--a marvel, exquisite, in the\nstrict Oriental style, \"genre of the slave Rebecca, don't you know.\"\nHe'd had a row, too, with Berkoshov, and was going to send seconds to\nhim, but of course it would come to nothing. Altogether everything was\nsupremely amusing and jolly. And, not letting his comrade enter into\nfurther details of his position, Petritsky proceeded to tell him all the\ninteresting news. As he listened to Petritsky's familiar stories in the\nfamiliar setting of the rooms he had spent the last three years in,\nVronsky felt a delightful sense of coming back to the careless\nPetersburg life that he was used to.\n\n\"Impossible!\" he cried, letting down the pedal of the washing basin in\nwhich he had been sousing his healthy red neck. \"Impossible!\" he cried,\nat the news that Laura had flung over Fertinghof and had made up to\nMileev. \"And is he as stupid and pleased as ever? Well, and how's\nBuzulukov?\"\n\n\"Oh, there is a tale about Buzulukov--simply lovely!\" cried Petritsky.\n\"You know his weakness for balls, and he never misses a single court\nball. He went to a big ball in a new helmet. Have you seen the new\nhelmets? Very nice, lighter. Well, so he's standing.... No, I say, do\nlisten.\"\n\n\"I am listening,\" answered Vronsky, rubbing himself with a rough towel.\n\n\"Up comes the Grand Duchess with some ambassador or other, and, as\nill-luck would have it, she begins talking to him about the new helmets.\nThe Grand Duchess positively wanted to show the new helmet to the\nambassador. They see our friend standing there.\" (Petritsky mimicked how\nhe was standing with the helmet.) \"The Grand Duchess asked him to give\nher the helmet; he doesn't give it to her. What do you think of that?\nWell, every one's winking at him, nodding, frowning--give it to her, do!\nHe doesn't give it to her. He's mute as a fish. Only picture it!...\nWell, the ... what's his name, whatever he was ... tries to take the\nhelmet from him ... he won't give it up!... He pulls it from him, and\nhands it to the Grand Duchess. 'Here, your Highness,' says he, 'is the\nnew helmet.' She turned the helmet the other side up, And--just picture\nit!--plop went a pear and sweetmeats out of it, two pounds of\nsweetmeats!... He'd been storing them up, the darling!\"\n\nVronsky burst into roars of laughter. And long afterwards, when he was\ntalking of other things, he broke out into his healthy laugh, showing\nhis strong, close rows of teeth, when he thought of the helmet.\n\nHaving heard all the news, Vronsky, with the assistance of his valet,\ngot into his uniform, and went off to report himself. He intended, when\nhe had done that, to drive to his brother's and to Betsy's and to pay\nseveral visits with a view to beginning to go into that society where he\nmight meet Madame Karenina. As he always did in Petersburg, he left home\nnot meaning to return till late at night.\n\n\n\n\nPART TWO\n\n\n\nChapter 1\n\n\nAt the end of the winter, in the Shtcherbatskys' house, a consultation\nwas being held, which was to pronounce on the state of Kitty's health\nand the measures to be taken to restore her failing strength. She had\nbeen ill, and as spring came on she grew worse. The family doctor gave\nher cod liver oil, then iron, then nitrate of silver, but as the first\nand the second and the third were alike in doing no good, and as his\nadvice when spring came was to go abroad, a celebrated physician was\ncalled in. The celebrated physician, a very handsome man, still\nyoungish, asked to examine the patient. He maintained, with peculiar\nsatisfaction, it seemed, that maiden modesty is a mere relic of\nbarbarism, and that nothing could be more natural than for a man still\nyoungish to handle a young girl naked. He thought it natural because he\ndid it every day, and felt and thought, as it seemed to him, no harm as\nhe did it and consequently he considered modesty in the girl not merely\nas a relic of barbarism, but also as an insult to himself.\n\nThere was nothing for it but to submit, since, although all the doctors\nhad studied in the same school, had read the same books, and learned the\nsame science, and though some people said this celebrated doctor was a\nbad doctor, in the princess's household and circle it was for some\nreason accepted that this celebrated doctor alone had some special\nknowledge, and that he alone could save Kitty. After a careful\nexamination and sounding of the bewildered patient, dazed with shame,\nthe celebrated doctor, having scrupulously washed his hands, was\nstanding in the drawing room talking to the prince. The prince frowned\nand coughed, listening to the doctor. As a man who had seen something of\nlife, and neither a fool nor an invalid, he had no faith in medicine,\nand in his heart was furious at the whole farce, specially as he was\nperhaps the only one who fully comprehended the cause of Kitty's\nillness. \"Conceited blockhead!\" he thought, as he listened to the\ncelebrated doctor's chatter about his daughter's symptoms. The doctor\nwas meantime with difficulty restraining the expression of his contempt\nfor this old gentleman, and with difficulty condescending to the level\nof his intelligence. He perceived that it was no good talking to the old\nman, and that the principal person in the house was the mother. Before\nher he decided to scatter his pearls. At that instant the princess came\ninto the drawing room with the family doctor. The prince withdrew,\ntrying not to show how ridiculous he thought the whole performance. The\nprincess was distracted, and did not know what to do. She felt she had\nsinned against Kitty.\n\n\"Well, doctor, decide our fate,\" said the princess. \"Tell me\neverything.\"\n\n\"Is there hope?\" she meant to say, but her lips quivered, and she could\nnot utter the question. \"Well, doctor?\"\n\n\"Immediately, princess. I will talk it over with my colleague, and then\nI will have the honor of laying my opinion before you.\"\n\n\"So we had better leave you?\"\n\n\"As you please.\"\n\nThe princess went out with a sigh.\n\nWhen the doctors were left alone, the family doctor began timidly\nexplaining his opinion, that there was a commencement of tuberculous\ntrouble, but ... and so on. The celebrated doctor listened to him, and\nin the middle of his sentence looked at his big gold watch.\n\n\"Yes,\" said he. \"But...\"\n\nThe family doctor respectfully ceased in the middle of his observations.\n\n\"The commencement of the tuberculous process we are not, as you are\naware, able to define; till there are cavities, there is nothing\ndefinite. But we may suspect it. And there are indications;\nmalnutrition, nervous excitability, and so on. The question stands thus:\nin presence of indications of tuberculous process, what is to be done to\nmaintain nutrition?\"\n\n\"But, you know, there are always moral, spiritual causes at the back in\nthese cases,\" the family doctor permitted himself to interpolate with a\nsubtle smile.\n\n\"Yes, that's an understood thing,\" responded the celebrated physician,\nagain glancing at his watch. \"Beg pardon, is the Yausky bridge done yet,\nor shall I have to drive around?\" he asked. \"Ah! it is. Oh, well, then I\ncan do it in twenty minutes. So we were saying the problem may be put\nthus: to maintain nutrition and to give tone to the nerves. The one is\nin close connection with the other, one must attack both sides at once.\"\n\n\"And how about a tour abroad?\" asked the family doctor.\n\n\"I've no liking for foreign tours. And take note: if there is an early\nstage of tuberculous process, of which we cannot be certain, a foreign\ntour will be of no use. What is wanted is means of improving nutrition,\nand not for lowering it.\" And the celebrated doctor expounded his plan\nof treatment with Soden waters, a remedy obviously prescribed primarily\non the ground that they could do no harm.\n\nThe family doctor listened attentively and respectfully.\n\n\"But in favor of foreign travel I would urge the change of habits, the\nremoval from conditions calling up reminiscences. And then the mother\nwishes it,\" he added.\n\n\"Ah! Well, in that case, to be sure, let them go. Only, those German\nquacks are mischievous.... They ought to be persuaded.... Well, let them\ngo then.\"\n\nHe glanced once more at his watch.\n\n\"Oh! time's up already,\" And he went to the door. The celebrated doctor\nannounced to the princess (a feeling of what was due from him dictated\nhis doing so) that he ought to see the patient once more.\n\n\"What! another examination!\" cried the mother, with horror.\n\n\"Oh, no, only a few details, princess.\"\n\n\"Come this way.\"\n\nAnd the mother, accompanied by the doctor, went into the drawing room to\nKitty. Wasted and flushed, with a peculiar glitter in her eyes, left\nthere by the agony of shame she had been put through, Kitty stood in the\nmiddle of the room. When the doctor came in she flushed crimson, and her\neyes filled with tears. All her illness and treatment struck her as a\nthing so stupid, ludicrous even! Doctoring her seemed to her as absurd\nas putting together the pieces of a broken vase. Her heart was broken.\nWhy would they try to cure her with pills and powders? But she could not\ngrieve her mother, especially as her mother considered herself to blame.\n\n\"May I trouble you to sit down, princess?\" the celebrated doctor said to\nher.\n\nHe sat down with a smile, facing her, felt her pulse, and again began\nasking her tiresome questions. She answered him, and all at once got up,\nfurious.\n\n\"Excuse me, doctor, but there is really no object in this. This is the\nthird time you've asked me the same thing.\"\n\nThe celebrated doctor did not take offense.\n\n\"Nervous irritability,\" he said to the princess, when Kitty had left the\nroom. \"However, I had finished...\"\n\nAnd the doctor began scientifically explaining to the princess, as an\nexceptionally intelligent woman, the condition of the young princess,\nand concluded by insisting on the drinking of the waters, which were\ncertainly harmless. At the question: Should they go abroad? the doctor\nplunged into deep meditation, as though resolving a weighty problem.\nFinally his decision was pronounced: they were to go abroad, but to put\nno faith in foreign quacks, and to apply to him in any need.\n\nIt seemed as though some piece of good fortune had come to pass after\nthe doctor had gone. The mother was much more cheerful when she went\nback to her daughter, and Kitty pretended to be more cheerful. She had\noften, almost always, to be pretending now.\n\n\"Really, I'm quite well, mamma. But if you want to go abroad, let's go!\"\nshe said, and trying to appear interested in the proposed tour, she\nbegan talking of the preparations for the journey.\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\n\nSoon after the doctor, Dolly had arrived. She knew that there was to be\na consultation that day, and though she was only just up after her\nconfinement (she had another baby, a little girl, born at the end of the\nwinter), though she had trouble and anxiety enough of her own, she had\nleft her tiny baby and a sick child, to come and hear Kitty's fate,\nwhich was to be decided that day.\n\n\"Well, well?\" she said, coming into the drawing room, without taking off\nher hat. \"You're all in good spirits. Good news, then?\"\n\nThey tried to tell her what the doctor had said, but it appeared that\nthough the doctor had talked distinctly enough and at great length, it\nwas utterly impossible to report what he had said. The only point of\ninterest was that it was settled they should go abroad.\n\nDolly could not help sighing. Her dearest friend, her sister, was going\naway. And her life was not a cheerful one. Her relations with Stepan\nArkadyevitch after their reconciliation had become humiliating. The\nunion Anna had cemented turned out to be of no solid character, and\nfamily harmony was breaking down again at the same point. There had been\nnothing definite, but Stepan Arkadyevitch was hardly ever at home;\nmoney, too, was hardly ever forthcoming, and Dolly was continually\ntortured by suspicions of infidelity, which she tried to dismiss,\ndreading the agonies of jealousy she had been through already. The first\nonslaught of jealousy, once lived through, could never come back again,\nand even the discovery of infidelities could never now affect her as it\nhad the first time. Such a discovery now would only mean breaking up\nfamily habits, and she let herself be deceived, despising him and still\nmore herself, for the weakness. Besides this, the care of her large\nfamily was a constant worry to her: first, the nursing of her young baby\ndid not go well, then the nurse had gone away, now one of the children\nhad fallen ill.\n\n\"Well, how are all of you?\" asked her mother.\n\n\"Ah, mamma, we have plenty of troubles of our own. Lili is ill, and I'm\nafraid it's scarlatina. I have come here now to hear about Kitty, and\nthen I shall shut myself up entirely, if--God forbid--it should be\nscarlatina.\"\n\nThe old prince too had come in from his study after the doctor's\ndeparture, and after presenting his cheek to Dolly, and saying a few\nwords to her, he turned to his wife:\n\n\"How have you settled it? you're going? Well, and what do you mean to do\nwith me?\"\n\n\"I suppose you had better stay here, Alexander,\" said his wife.\n\n\"That's as you like.\"\n\n\"Mamma, why shouldn't father come with us?\" said Kitty. \"It would be\nnicer for him and for us too.\"\n\nThe old prince got up and stroked Kitty's hair. She lifted her head and\nlooked at him with a forced smile. It always seemed to her that he\nunderstood her better than anyone in the family, though he did not say\nmuch about her. Being the youngest, she was her father's favorite, and\nshe fancied that his love gave him insight. When now her glance met his\nblue kindly eyes looking intently at her, it seemed to her that he saw\nright through her, and understood all that was not good that was passing\nwithin her. Reddening, she stretched out towards him expecting a kiss,\nbut he only patted her hair and said:\n\n\"These stupid chignons! There's no getting at the real daughter. One\nsimply strokes the bristles of dead women. Well, Dolinka,\" he turned to\nhis elder daughter, \"what's your young buck about, hey?\"\n\n\"Nothing, father,\" answered Dolly, understanding that her husband was\nmeant. \"He's always out; I scarcely ever see him,\" she could not resist\nadding with a sarcastic smile.\n\n\"Why, hasn't he gone into the country yet--to see about selling that\nforest?\"\n\n\"No, he's still getting ready for the journey.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's it!\" said the prince. \"And so am I to be getting ready for a\njourney too? At your service,\" he said to his wife, sitting down. \"And I\ntell you what, Katia,\" he went on to his younger daughter, \"you must\nwake up one fine day and say to yourself: Why, I'm quite well, and\nmerry, and going out again with father for an early morning walk in the\nfrost. Hey?\"\n\nWhat her father said seemed simple enough, yet at these words Kitty\nbecame confused and overcome like a detected criminal. \"Yes, he sees it\nall, he understands it all, and in these words he's telling me that\nthough I'm ashamed, I must get over my shame.\" She could not pluck up\nspirit to make any answer. She tried to begin, and all at once burst\ninto tears, and rushed out of the room.\n\n\"See what comes of your jokes!\" the princess pounced down on her\nhusband. \"You're always...\" she began a string of reproaches.\n\nThe prince listened to the princess's scolding rather a long while\nwithout speaking, but his face was more and more frowning.\n\n\"She's so much to be pitied, poor child, so much to be pitied, and you\ndon't feel how it hurts her to hear the slightest reference to the cause\nof it. Ah! to be so mistaken in people!\" said the princess, and by the\nchange in her tone both Dolly and the prince knew she was speaking of\nVronsky. \"I don't know why there aren't laws against such base,\ndishonorable people.\"\n\n\"Ah, I can't bear to hear you!\" said the prince gloomily, getting up\nfrom his low chair, and seeming anxious to get away, yet stopping in the\ndoorway. \"There are laws, madam, and since you've challenged me to it,\nI'll tell you who's to blame for it all: you and you, you and nobody\nelse. Laws against such young gallants there have always been, and there\nstill are! Yes, if there has been nothing that ought not to have been,\nold as I am, I'd have called him out to the barrier, the young dandy.\nYes, and now you physic her and call in these quacks.\"\n\nThe prince apparently had plenty more to say, but as soon as the\nprincess heard his tone she subsided at once, and became penitent, as\nshe always did on serious occasions.\n\n\"Alexander, Alexander,\" she whispered, moving to him and beginning to\nweep.\n\nAs soon as she began to cry the prince too calmed down. He went up to\nher.\n\n\"There, that's enough, that's enough! You're wretched too, I know. It\ncan't be helped. There's no great harm done. God is merciful ...\nthanks...\" he said, not knowing what he was saying, as he responded to\nthe tearful kiss of the princess that he felt on his hand. And the\nprince went out of the room.\n\nBefore this, as soon as Kitty went out of the room in tears, Dolly, with\nher motherly, family instincts, had promptly perceived that here a\nwoman's work lay before her, and she prepared to do it. She took off her\nhat, and, morally speaking, tucked up her sleeves and prepared for\naction. While her mother was attacking her father, she tried to restrain\nher mother, so far as filial reverence would allow. During the prince's\noutburst she was silent; she felt ashamed for her mother, and tender\ntowards her father for so quickly being kind again. But when her father\nleft them she made ready for what was the chief thing needful--to go to\nKitty and console her.\n\n\"I'd been meaning to tell you something for a long while, mamma: did you\nknow that Levin meant to make Kitty an offer when he was here the last\ntime? He told Stiva so.\"\n\n\"Well, what then? I don't understand...\"\n\n\"So did Kitty perhaps refuse him?... She didn't tell you so?\"\n\n\"No, she has said nothing to me either of one or the other; she's too\nproud. But I know it's all on account of the other.\"\n\n\"Yes, but suppose she has refused Levin, and she wouldn't have refused\nhim if it hadn't been for the other, I know. And then, he has deceived\nher so horribly.\"\n\nIt was too terrible for the princess to think how she had sinned against\nher daughter, and she broke out angrily.\n\n\"Oh, I really don't understand! Nowadays they will all go their own way,\nand mothers haven't a word to say in anything, and then...\"\n\n\"Mamma, I'll go up to her.\"\n\n\"Well, do. Did I tell you not to?\" said her mother.\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\n\nWhen she went into Kitty's little room, a pretty, pink little room, full\nof knick-knacks in _vieux saxe,_ as fresh, and pink, and white, and gay\nas Kitty herself had been two months ago, Dolly remembered how they had\ndecorated the room the year before together, with what love and gaiety.\nHer heart turned cold when she saw Kitty sitting on a low chair near the\ndoor, her eyes fixed immovably on a corner of the rug. Kitty glanced at\nher sister, and the cold, rather ill-tempered expression of her face did\nnot change.\n\n\"I'm just going now, and I shall have to keep in and you won't be able\nto come to see me,\" said Dolly, sitting down beside her. \"I want to talk\nto you.\"\n\n\"What about?\" Kitty asked swiftly, lifting her head in dismay.\n\n\"What should it be, but your trouble?\"\n\n\"I have no trouble.\"\n\n\"Nonsense, Kitty. Do you suppose I could help knowing? I know all about\nit. And believe me, it's of so little consequence.... We've all been\nthrough it.\"\n\nKitty did not speak, and her face had a stern expression.\n\n\"He's not worth your grieving over him,\" pursued Darya Alexandrovna,\ncoming straight to the point.\n\n\"No, because he has treated me with contempt,\" said Kitty, in a breaking\nvoice. \"Don't talk of it! Please, don't talk of it!\"\n\n\"But who can have told you so? No one has said that. I'm certain he was\nin love with you, and would still be in love with you, if it hadn't...\n\n\"Oh, the most awful thing of all for me is this sympathizing!\" shrieked\nKitty, suddenly flying into a passion. She turned round on her chair,\nflushed crimson, and rapidly moving her fingers, pinched the clasp of\nher belt first with one hand and then with the other. Dolly knew this\ntrick her sister had of clenching her hands when she was much excited;\nshe knew, too, that in moments of excitement Kitty was capable of\nforgetting herself and saying a great deal too much, and Dolly would\nhave soothed her, but it was too late.\n\n\"What, what is it you want to make me feel, eh?\" said Kitty quickly.\n\"That I've been in love with a man who didn't care a straw for me, and\nthat I'm dying of love for him? And this is said to me by my own sister,\nwho imagines that ... that ... that she's sympathizing with me!... I\ndon't want these condolences and humbug!\"\n\n\"Kitty, you're unjust.\"\n\n\"Why are you tormenting me?\"\n\n\"But I ... quite the contrary ... I see you're unhappy...\"\n\nBut Kitty in her fury did not hear her.\n\n\"I've nothing to grieve over and be comforted about. I am too proud ever\nto allow myself to care for a man who does not love me.\"\n\n\"Yes, I don't say so either.... Only one thing. Tell me the truth,\" said\nDarya Alexandrovna, taking her by the hand: \"tell me, did Levin speak to\nyou?...\"\n\nThe mention of Levin's name seemed to deprive Kitty of the last vestige\nof self-control. She leaped up from her chair, and flinging her clasp on\nthe ground, she gesticulated rapidly with her hands and said:\n\n\"Why bring Levin in too? I can't understand what you want to torment me\nfor. I've told you, and I say it again, that I have some pride, and\nnever, _never_ would I do as you're doing--go back to a man who's\ndeceived you, who has cared for another woman. I can't understand it!\nYou may, but I can't!\"\n\nAnd saying these words she glanced at her sister, and seeing that Dolly\nsat silent, her head mournfully bowed, Kitty, instead of running out of\nthe room as she had meant to do, sat down near the door, and hid her\nface in her handkerchief.\n\nThe silence lasted for two minutes: Dolly was thinking of herself. That\nhumiliation of which she was always conscious came back to her with a\npeculiar bitterness when her sister reminded her of it. She had not\nlooked for such cruelty in her sister, and she was angry with her. But\nsuddenly she heard the rustle of a skirt, and with it the sound of\nheart-rending, smothered sobbing, and felt arms about her neck. Kitty\nwas on her knees before her.\n\n\"Dolinka, I am so, so wretched!\" she whispered penitently. And the sweet\nface covered with tears hid itself in Darya Alexandrovna's skirt.\n\nAs though tears were the indispensable oil, without which the machinery\nof mutual confidence could not run smoothly between the two sisters, the\nsisters after their tears talked, not of what was uppermost in their\nminds, but, though they talked of outside matters, they understood each\nother. Kitty knew that the words she had uttered in anger about her\nhusband's infidelity and her humiliating position had cut her poor\nsister to the heart, but that she had forgiven her. Dolly for her part\nknew all she had wanted to find out. She felt certain that her surmises\nwere correct; that Kitty's misery, her inconsolable misery, was due\nprecisely to the fact that Levin had made her an offer and she had\nrefused him, and Vronsky had deceived her, and that she was fully\nprepared to love Levin and to detest Vronsky. Kitty said not a word of\nthat; she talked of nothing but her spiritual condition.\n\n\"I have nothing to make me miserable,\" she said, getting calmer; \"but\ncan you understand that everything has become hateful, loathsome, coarse\nto me, and I myself most of all? You can't imagine what loathsome\nthoughts I have about everything.\"\n\n\"Why, whatever loathsome thoughts can you have?\" asked Dolly, smiling.\n\n\"The most utterly loathsome and coarse: I can't tell you. It's not\nunhappiness, or low spirits, but much worse. As though everything that\nwas good in me was all hidden away, and nothing was left but the most\nloathsome. Come, how am I to tell you?\" she went on, seeing the puzzled\nlook in her sister's eyes. \"Father began saying something to me just\nnow.... It seems to me he thinks all I want is to be married. Mother\ntakes me to a ball: it seems to me she only takes me to get me married\noff as soon as may be, and be rid of me. I know it's not the truth, but\nI can't drive away such thoughts. Eligible suitors, as they call them--I\ncan't bear to see them. It seems to me they're taking stock of me and\nsumming me up. In old days to go anywhere in a ball dress was a simple\njoy to me, I admired myself; now I feel ashamed and awkward. And then!\nThe doctor.... Then...\" Kitty hesitated; she wanted to say further that\never since this change had taken place in her, Stepan Arkadyevitch had\nbecome insufferably repulsive to her, and that she could not see him\nwithout the grossest and most hideous conceptions rising before her\nimagination.\n\n\"Oh, well, everything presents itself to me, in the coarsest, most\nloathsome light,\" she went on. \"That's my illness. Perhaps it will pass\noff.\"\n\n\"But you mustn't think about it.\"\n\n\"I can't help it. I'm never happy except with the children at your\nhouse.\"\n\n\"What a pity you can't be with me!\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, I'm coming. I've had scarlatina, and I'll persuade mamma to\nlet me.\"\n\nKitty insisted on having her way, and went to stay at her sister's and\nnursed the children all through the scarlatina, for scarlatina it turned\nout to be. The two sisters brought all the six children successfully\nthrough it, but Kitty was no better in health, and in Lent the\nShtcherbatskys went abroad.\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\n\nThe highest Petersburg society is essentially one: in it everyone knows\neveryone else, everyone even visits everyone else. But this great set\nhas its subdivisions. Anna Arkadyevna Karenina had friends and close\nties in three different circles of this highest society. One circle was\nher husband's government official set, consisting of his colleagues and\nsubordinates, brought together in the most various and capricious\nmanner, and belonging to different social strata. Anna found it\ndifficult now to recall the feeling of almost awe-stricken reverence\nwhich she had at first entertained for these persons. Now she knew all\nof them as people know one another in a country town; she knew their\nhabits and weaknesses, and where the shoe pinched each one of them. She\nknew their relations with one another and with the head authorities,\nknew who was for whom, and how each one maintained his position, and\nwhere they agreed and disagreed. But the circle of political, masculine\ninterests had never interested her, in spite of countess Lidia\nIvanovna's influence, and she avoided it.\n\nAnother little set with which Anna was in close relations was the one by\nmeans of which Alexey Alexandrovitch had made his career. The center of\nthis circle was the Countess Lidia Ivanovna. It was a set made up of\nelderly, ugly, benevolent, and godly women, and clever, learned, and\nambitious men. One of the clever people belonging to the set had called\nit \"the conscience of Petersburg society.\" Alexey Alexandrovitch had the\nhighest esteem for this circle, and Anna with her special gift for\ngetting on with everyone, had in the early days of her life in\nPetersburg made friends in this circle also. Now, since her return from\nMoscow, she had come to feel this set insufferable. It seemed to her\nthat both she and all of them were insincere, and she felt so bored and\nill at ease in that world that she went to see the Countess Lidia\nIvanovna as little as possible.\n\nThe third circle with which Anna had ties was preeminently the\nfashionable world--the world of balls, of dinners, of sumptuous dresses,\nthe world that hung on to the court with one hand, so as to avoid\nsinking to the level of the demi-monde. For the demi-monde the members\nof that fashionable world believed that they despised, though their\ntastes were not merely similar, but in fact identical. Her connection\nwith this circle was kept up through Princess Betsy Tverskaya, her\ncousin's wife, who had an income of a hundred and twenty thousand\nroubles, and who had taken a great fancy to Anna ever since she first\ncame out, showed her much attention, and drew her into her set, making\nfun of Countess Lidia Ivanovna's coterie.\n\n\"When I'm old and ugly I'll be the same,\" Betsy used to say; \"but for a\npretty young woman like you it's early days for that house of charity.\"\n\nAnna had at first avoided as far as she could Princess Tverskaya's\nworld, because it necessitated an expenditure beyond her means, and\nbesides in her heart she preferred the first circle. But since her visit\nto Moscow she had done quite the contrary. She avoided her\nserious-minded friends, and went out into the fashionable world. There\nshe met Vronsky, and experienced an agitating joy at those meetings. She\nmet Vronsky specially often at Betsy's for Betsy was a Vronsky by birth\nand his cousin. Vronsky was everywhere where he had any chance of\nmeeting Anna, and speaking to her, when he could, of his love. She gave\nhim no encouragement, but every time she met him there surged up in her\nheart that same feeling of quickened life that had come upon her that\nday in the railway carriage when she saw him for the first time. She was\nconscious herself that her delight sparkled in her eyes and curved her\nlips into a smile, and she could not quench the expression of this\ndelight.\n\nAt first Anna sincerely believed that she was displeased with him for\ndaring to pursue her. Soon after her return from Moscow, on arriving at\na _soiree_ where she had expected to meet him, and not finding him\nthere, she realized distinctly from the rush of disappointment that she\nhad been deceiving herself, and that this pursuit was not merely not\ndistasteful to her, but that it made the whole interest of her life.\n\nA celebrated singer was singing for the second time, and all the\nfashionable world was in the theater. Vronsky, seeing his cousin from\nhis stall in the front row, did not wait till the entr'acte, but went to\nher box.\n\n\"Why didn't you come to dinner?\" she said to him. \"I marvel at the\nsecond sight of lovers,\" she added with a smile, so that no one but he\ncould hear; \"_she wasn't there_. But come after the opera.\"\n\nVronsky looked inquiringly at her. She nodded. He thanked her by a\nsmile, and sat down beside her.\n\n\"But how I remember your jeers!\" continued Princess Betsy, who took a\npeculiar pleasure in following up this passion to a successful issue.\n\"What's become of all that? You're caught, my dear boy.\"\n\n\"That's my one desire, to be caught,\" answered Vronsky, with his serene,\ngood-humored smile. \"If I complain of anything it's only that I'm not\ncaught enough, to tell the truth. I begin to lose hope.\"\n\n\"Why, whatever hope can you have?\" said Betsy, offended on behalf of her\nfriend. \"_Entendons nous...._\" But in her eyes there were gleams of\nlight that betrayed that she understood perfectly and precisely as he\ndid what hope he might have.\n\n\"None whatever,\" said Vronsky, laughing and showing his even rows of\nteeth. \"Excuse me,\" he added, taking an opera glass out of her hand, and\nproceeding to scrutinize, over her bare shoulder, the row of boxes\nfacing them. \"I'm afraid I'm becoming ridiculous.\"\n\nHe was very well aware that he ran no risk of being ridiculous in the\neyes of Betsy or any other fashionable people. He was very well aware\nthat in their eyes the position of an unsuccessful lover of a girl, or\nof any woman free to marry, might be ridiculous. But the position of a\nman pursuing a married woman, and, regardless of everything, staking his\nlife on drawing her into adultery, has something fine and grand about\nit, and can never be ridiculous; and so it was with a proud and gay\nsmile under his mustaches that he lowered the opera glass and looked at\nhis cousin.\n\n\"But why was it you didn't come to dinner?\" she said, admiring him.\n\n\"I must tell you about that. I was busily employed, and doing what, do\nyou suppose? I'll give you a hundred guesses, a thousand ... you'd never\nguess. I've been reconciling a husband with a man who'd insulted his\nwife. Yes, really!\"\n\n\"Well, did you succeed?\"\n\n\"Almost.\"\n\n\"You really must tell me about it,\" she said, getting up. \"Come to me in\nthe next _entr'acte._\"\n\n\"I can't; I'm going to the French theater.\"\n\n\"From Nilsson?\" Betsy queried in horror, though she could not herself\nhave distinguished Nilsson's voice from any chorus girl's.\n\n\"Can't help it. I've an appointment there, all to do with my mission of\npeace.\"\n\n\"'Blessed are the peacemakers; theirs is the kingdom of heaven,'\" said\nBetsy, vaguely recollecting she had heard some similar saying from\nsomeone. \"Very well, then, sit down, and tell me what it's all about.\"\n\nAnd she sat down again.\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\n\n\"This is rather indiscreet, but it's so good it's an awful temptation to\ntell the story,\" said Vronsky, looking at her with his laughing eyes.\n\"I'm not going to mention any names.\"\n\n\"But I shall guess, so much the better.\"\n\n\"Well, listen: two festive young men were driving--\"\n\n\"Officers of your regiment, of course?\"\n\n\"I didn't say they were officers,--two young men who had been lunching.\"\n\n\"In other words, drinking.\"\n\n\"Possibly. They were driving on their way to dinner with a friend in the\nmost festive state of mind. And they beheld a pretty woman in a hired\nsledge; she overtakes them, looks round at them, and, so they fancy\nanyway, nods to them and laughs. They, of course, follow her. They\ngallop at full speed. To their amazement, the fair one alights at the\nentrance of the very house to which they were going. The fair one darts\nupstairs to the top story. They get a glimpse of red lips under a short\nveil, and exquisite little feet.\"\n\n\"You describe it with such feeling that I fancy you must be one of the\ntwo.\"\n\n\"And after what you said, just now! Well, the young men go in to their\ncomrade's; he was giving a farewell dinner. There they certainly did\ndrink a little too much, as one always does at farewell dinners. And at\ndinner they inquire who lives at the top in that house. No one knows;\nonly their host's valet, in answer to their inquiry whether any 'young\nladies' are living on the top floor, answered that there were a great\nmany of them about there. After dinner the two young men go into their\nhost's study, and write a letter to the unknown fair one. They compose\nan ardent epistle, a declaration in fact, and they carry the letter\nupstairs themselves, so as to elucidate whatever might appear not\nperfectly intelligible in the letter.\"\n\n\"Why are you telling me these horrible stories? Well?\"\n\n\"They ring. A maid-servant opens the door, they hand her the letter, and\nassure the maid that they're both so in love that they'll die on the\nspot at the door. The maid, stupefied, carries in their messages. All at\nonce a gentleman appears with whiskers like sausages, as red as a\nlobster, announces that there is no one living in the flat except his\nwife, and sends them both about their business.\"\n\n\"How do you know he had whiskers like sausages, as you say?\"\n\n\"Ah, you shall hear. I've just been to make peace between them.\"\n\n\"Well, and what then?\"\n\n\"That's the most interesting part of the story. It appears that it's a\nhappy couple, a government clerk and his lady. The government clerk\nlodges a complaint, and I became a mediator, and such a mediator!... I\nassure you Talleyrand couldn't hold a candle to me.\"\n\n\"Why, where was the difficulty?\"\n\n\"Ah, you shall hear.... We apologize in due form: we are in despair, we\nentreat forgiveness for the unfortunate misunderstanding. The government\nclerk with the sausages begins to melt, but he, too, desires to express\nhis sentiments, and as soon as ever he begins to express them, he begins\nto get hot and say nasty things, and again I'm obliged to trot out all\nmy diplomatic talents. I allowed that their conduct was bad, but I urged\nhim to take into consideration their heedlessness, their youth; then,\ntoo, the young men had only just been lunching together. 'You\nunderstand. They regret it deeply, and beg you to overlook their\nmisbehavior.' The government clerk was softened once more. 'I consent,\ncount, and am ready to overlook it; but you perceive that my wife--my\nwife's a respectable woman--has been exposed to the persecution, and\ninsults, and effrontery of young upstarts, scoundrels....' And you must\nunderstand, the young upstarts are present all the while, and I have to\nkeep the peace between them. Again I call out all my diplomacy, and\nagain as soon as the thing was about at an end, our friend the\ngovernment clerk gets hot and red, and his sausages stand on end with\nwrath, and once more I launch out into diplomatic wiles.\"\n\n\"Ah, he must tell you this story!\" said Betsy, laughing, to a lady who\ncame into her box. \"He has been making me laugh so.\"\n\n\"Well, _bonne chance_!\" she added, giving Vronsky one finger of the hand\nin which she held her fan, and with a shrug of her shoulders she\ntwitched down the bodice of her gown that had worked up, so as to be\nduly naked as she moved forward towards the footlights into the light of\nthe gas, and the sight of all eyes.\n\nVronsky drove to the French theater, where he really had to see the\ncolonel of his regiment, who never missed a single performance there. He\nwanted to see him, to report on the result of his mediation, which had\noccupied and amused him for the last three days. Petritsky, whom he\nliked, was implicated in the affair, and the other culprit was a capital\nfellow and first-rate comrade, who had lately joined the regiment, the\nyoung Prince Kedrov. And what was most important, the interests of the\nregiment were involved in it too.\n\nBoth the young men were in Vronsky's company. The colonel of the\nregiment was waited upon by the government clerk, Venden, with a\ncomplaint against his officers, who had insulted his wife. His young\nwife, so Venden told the story--he had been married half a year--was at\nchurch with her mother, and suddenly overcome by indisposition, arising\nfrom her interesting condition, she could not remain standing, she drove\nhome in the first sledge, a smart-looking one, she came across. On the\nspot the officers set off in pursuit of her; she was alarmed, and\nfeeling still more unwell, ran up the staircase home. Venden himself, on\nreturning from his office, heard a ring at their bell and voices, went\nout, and seeing the intoxicated officers with a letter, he had turned\nthem out. He asked for exemplary punishment.\n\n\"Yes, it's all very well,\" said the colonel to Vronsky, whom he had\ninvited to come and see him. \"Petritsky's becoming impossible. Not a\nweek goes by without some scandal. This government clerk won't let it\ndrop, he'll go on with the thing.\"\n\nVronsky saw all the thanklessness of the business, and that there could\nbe no question of a duel in it, that everything must be done to soften\nthe government clerk, and hush the matter up. The colonel had called in\nVronsky just because he knew him to be an honorable and intelligent man,\nand, more than all, a man who cared for the honor of the regiment. They\ntalked it over, and decided that Petritsky and Kedrov must go with\nVronsky to Venden's to apologize. The colonel and Vronsky were both\nfully aware that Vronsky's name and rank would be sure to contribute\ngreatly to the softening of the injured husband's feelings.\n\nAnd these two influences were not in fact without effect; though the\nresult remained, as Vronsky had described, uncertain.\n\nOn reaching the French theater, Vronsky retired to the foyer with the\ncolonel, and reported to him his success, or non-success. The colonel,\nthinking it all over, made up his mind not to pursue the matter further,\nbut then for his own satisfaction proceeded to cross-examine Vronsky\nabout his interview; and it was a long while before he could restrain\nhis laughter, as Vronsky described how the government clerk, after\nsubsiding for a while, would suddenly flare up again, as he recalled the\ndetails, and how Vronsky, at the last half word of conciliation,\nskillfully maneuvered a retreat, shoving Petritsky out before him.\n\n\"It's a disgraceful story, but killing. Kedrov really can't fight the\ngentleman! Was he so awfully hot?\" he commented, laughing. \"But what do\nyou say to Claire today? She's marvelous,\" he went on, speaking of a new\nFrench actress. \"However often you see her, every day she's different.\nIt's only the French who can do that.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\n\nPrincess Betsy drove home from the theater, without waiting for the end\nof the last act. She had only just time to go into her dressing room,\nsprinkle her long, pale face with powder, rub it, set her dress to\nrights, and order tea in the big drawing room, when one after another\ncarriages drove up to her huge house in Bolshaia Morskaia. Her guests\nstepped out at the wide entrance, and the stout porter, who used to read\nthe newspapers in the mornings behind the glass door, to the edification\nof the passers-by, noiselessly opened the immense door, letting the\nvisitors pass by him into the house.\n\nAlmost at the same instant the hostess, with freshly arranged coiffure\nand freshened face, walked in at one door and her guests at the other\ndoor of the drawing room, a large room with dark walls, downy rugs, and\na brightly lighted table, gleaming with the light of candles, white\ncloth, silver samovar, and transparent china tea things.\n\nThe hostess sat down at the table and took off her gloves. Chairs were\nset with the aid of footmen, moving almost imperceptibly about the room;\nthe party settled itself, divided into two groups: one round the samovar\nnear the hostess, the other at the opposite end of the drawing room,\nround the handsome wife of an ambassador, in black velvet, with sharply\ndefined black eyebrows. In both groups conversation wavered, as it\nalways does, for the first few minutes, broken up by meetings,\ngreetings, offers of tea, and as it were, feeling about for something to\nrest upon.\n\n\"She's exceptionally good as an actress; one can see she's studied\nKaulbach,\" said a diplomatic attache in the group round the ambassador's\nwife. \"Did you notice how she fell down?...\"\n\n\"Oh, please, don't let us talk about Nilsson! No one can possibly say\nanything new about her,\" said a fat, red-faced, flaxen-headed lady,\nwithout eyebrows and chignon, wearing an old silk dress. This was\nPrincess Myakaya, noted for her simplicity and the roughness of her\nmanners, and nicknamed _enfant terrible_. Princess Myakaya, sitting in\nthe middle between the two groups, and listening to both, took part in\nthe conversation first of one and then of the other. \"Three people have\nused that very phrase about Kaulbach to me today already, just as though\nthey had made a compact about it. And I can't see why they liked that\nremark so.\"\n\nThe conversation was cut short by this observation, and a new subject\nhad to be thought of again.\n\n\"Do tell me something amusing but not spiteful,\" said the ambassador's\nwife, a great proficient in the art of that elegant conversation called\nby the English, _small talk_. She addressed the attache, who was at a\nloss now what to begin upon.\n\n\"They say that that's a difficult task, that nothing's amusing that\nisn't spiteful,\" he began with a smile. \"But I'll try. Get me a subject.\nIt all lies in the subject. If a subject's given me, it's easy to spin\nsomething round it. I often think that the celebrated talkers of the\nlast century would have found it difficult to talk cleverly now.\nEverything clever is so stale...\"\n\n\"That has been said long ago,\" the ambassador's wife interrupted him,\nlaughing.\n\nThe conversation began amiably, but just because it was too amiable, it\ncame to a stop again. They had to have recourse to the sure,\nnever-failing topic--gossip.\n\n\"Don't you think there's something Louis Quinze about Tushkevitch?\" he\nsaid, glancing towards a handsome, fair-haired young man, standing at\nthe table.\n\n\"Oh, yes! He's in the same style as the drawing room and that's why it\nis he's so often here.\"\n\nThis conversation was maintained, since it rested on allusions to what\ncould not be talked of in that room--that is to say, of the relations of\nTushkevitch with their hostess.\n\nRound the samovar and the hostess the conversation had been meanwhile\nvacillating in just the same way between three inevitable topics: the\nlatest piece of public news, the theater, and scandal. It, too, came\nfinally to rest on the last topic, that is, ill-natured gossip.\n\n\"Have you heard the Maltishtcheva woman--the mother, not the\ndaughter--has ordered a costume in _diable rose_ color?\"\n\n\"Nonsense! No, that's too lovely!\"\n\n\"I wonder that with her sense--for she's not a fool, you know--that she\ndoesn't see how funny she is.\"\n\nEveryone had something to say in censure or ridicule of the luckless\nMadame Maltishtcheva, and the conversation crackled merrily, like a\nburning faggot-stack.\n\nThe husband of Princess Betsy, a good-natured fat man, an ardent\ncollector of engravings, hearing that his wife had visitors, came into\nthe drawing room before going to his club. Stepping noiselessly over the\nthick rugs, he went up to Princess Myakaya.\n\n\"How did you like Nilsson?\" he asked.\n\n\"Oh, how can you steal upon anyone like that! How you startled me!\" she\nresponded. \"Please don't talk to me about the opera; you know nothing\nabout music. I'd better meet you on your own ground, and talk about your\nmajolica and engravings. Come now, what treasure have you been buying\nlately at the old curiosity shops?\"\n\n\"Would you like me to show you? But you don't understand such things.\"\n\n\"Oh, do show me! I've been learning about them at those--what's their\nnames?... the bankers ... they've some splendid engravings. They showed\nthem to us.\"\n\n\"Why, have you been at the Schuetzburgs?\" asked the hostess from the\nsamovar.\n\n\"Yes, _ma chere_. They asked my husband and me to dinner, and told us\nthe sauce at that dinner cost a hundred pounds,\" Princess Myakaya said,\nspeaking loudly, and conscious everyone was listening; \"and very nasty\nsauce it was, some green mess. We had to ask them, and I made them sauce\nfor eighteen pence, and everybody was very much pleased with it. I can't\nrun to hundred-pound sauces.\"\n\n\"She's unique!\" said the lady of the house.\n\n\"Marvelous!\" said someone.\n\nThe sensation produced by Princess Myakaya's speeches was always unique,\nand the secret of the sensation she produced lay in the fact that though\nshe spoke not always appropriately, as now, she said simple things with\nsome sense in them. In the society in which she lived such plain\nstatements produced the effect of the wittiest epigram. Princess Myakaya\ncould never see why it had that effect, but she knew it had, and took\nadvantage of it.\n\nAs everyone had been listening while Princess Myakaya spoke, and so the\nconversation around the ambassador's wife had dropped, Princess Betsy\ntried to bring the whole party together, and turned to the ambassador's\nwife.\n\n\"Will you really not have tea? You should come over here by us.\"\n\n\"No, we're very happy here,\" the ambassador's wife responded with a\nsmile, and she went on with the conversation that had been begun.\n\nIt was a very agreeable conversation. They were criticizing the\nKarenins, husband and wife.\n\n\"Anna is quite changed since her stay in Moscow. There's something\nstrange about her,\" said her friend.\n\n\"The great change is that she brought back with her the shadow of Alexey\nVronsky,\" said the ambassador's wife.\n\n\"Well, what of it? There's a fable of Grimm's about a man without a\nshadow, a man who's lost his shadow. And that's his punishment for\nsomething. I never could understand how it was a punishment. But a woman\nmust dislike being without a shadow.\"\n\n\"Yes, but women with a shadow usually come to a bad end,\" said Anna's\nfriend.\n\n\"Bad luck to your tongue!\" said Princess Myakaya suddenly. \"Madame\nKarenina's a splendid woman. I don't like her husband, but I like her\nvery much.\"\n\n\"Why don't you like her husband? He's such a remarkable man,\" said the\nambassador's wife. \"My husband says there are few statesmen like him in\nEurope.\"\n\n\"And my husband tells me just the same, but I don't believe it,\" said\nPrincess Myakaya. \"If our husbands didn't talk to us, we should see the\nfacts as they are. Alexey Alexandrovitch, to my thinking, is simply a\nfool. I say it in a whisper ... but doesn't it really make everything\nclear? Before, when I was told to consider him clever, I kept looking\nfor his ability, and thought myself a fool for not seeing it; but\ndirectly I said, _he's a fool,_ though only in a whisper, everything's\nexplained, isn't it?\"\n\n\"How spiteful you are today!\"\n\n\"Not a bit. I'd no other way out of it. One of the two had to be a fool.\nAnd, well, you know one can't say that of oneself.\"\n\n\"'No one is satisfied with his fortune, and everyone is satisfied with\nhis wit.'\" The attache repeated the French saying.\n\n\"That's just it, just it,\" Princess Myakaya turned to him. \"But the\npoint is that I won't abandon Anna to your mercies. She's so nice, so\ncharming. How can she help it if they're all in love with her, and\nfollow her about like shadows?\"\n\n\"Oh, I had no idea of blaming her for it,\" Anna's friend said in\nself-defense.\n\n\"If no one follows us about like a shadow, that's no proof that we've\nany right to blame her.\"\n\nAnd having duly disposed of Anna's friend, the Princess Myakaya got up,\nand together with the ambassador's wife, joined the group at the table,\nwhere the conversation was dealing with the king of Prussia.\n\n\"What wicked gossip were you talking over there?\" asked Betsy.\n\n\"About the Karenins. The princess gave us a sketch of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch,\" said the ambassador's wife with a smile, as she sat\ndown at the table.\n\n\"Pity we didn't hear it!\" said Princess Betsy, glancing towards the\ndoor. \"Ah, here you are at last!\" she said, turning with a smile to\nVronsky, as he came in.\n\nVronsky was not merely acquainted with all the persons whom he was\nmeeting here; he saw them all every day; and so he came in with the\nquiet manner with which one enters a room full of people from whom one\nhas only just parted.\n\n\"Where do I come from?\" he said, in answer to a question from the\nambassador's wife. \"Well, there's no help for it, I must confess. From\nthe _opera bouffe_. I do believe I've seen it a hundred times, and\nalways with fresh enjoyment. It's exquisite! I know it's disgraceful,\nbut I go to sleep at the opera, and I sit out the _opera bouffe_ to the\nlast minute, and enjoy it. This evening...\"\n\nHe mentioned a French actress, and was going to tell something about\nher; but the ambassador's wife, with playful horror, cut him short.\n\n\"Please don't tell us about that horror.\"\n\n\"All right, I won't especially as everyone knows those horrors.\"\n\n\"And we should all go to see them if it were accepted as the correct\nthing, like the opera,\" chimed in Princess Myakaya.\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\n\nSteps were heard at the door, and Princess Betsy, knowing it was Madame\nKarenina, glanced at Vronsky. He was looking towards the door, and his\nface wore a strange new expression. Joyfully, intently, and at the same\ntime timidly, he gazed at the approaching figure, and slowly he rose to\nhis feet. Anna walked into the drawing room. Holding herself extremely\nerect, as always, looking straight before her, and moving with her\nswift, resolute, and light step, that distinguished her from all other\nsociety women, she crossed the short space to her hostess, shook hands\nwith her, smiled, and with the same smile looked around at Vronsky.\nVronsky bowed low and pushed a chair up for her.\n\nShe acknowledged this only by a slight nod, flushed a little, and\nfrowned. But immediately, while rapidly greeting her acquaintances, and\nshaking the hands proffered to her, she addressed Princess Betsy:\n\n\"I have been at Countess Lidia's, and meant to have come here earlier,\nbut I stayed on. Sir John was there. He's very interesting.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's this missionary?\"\n\n\"Yes; he told us about the life in India, most interesting things.\"\n\nThe conversation, interrupted by her coming in, flickered up again like\nthe light of a lamp being blown out.\n\n\"Sir John! Yes, Sir John; I've seen him. He speaks well. The Vlassieva\ngirl's quite in love with him.\"\n\n\"And is it true the younger Vlassieva girl's to marry Topov?\"\n\n\"Yes, they say it's quite a settled thing.\"\n\n\"I wonder at the parents! They say it's a marriage for love.\"\n\n\"For love? What antediluvian notions you have! Can one talk of love in\nthese days?\" said the ambassador's wife.\n\n\"What's to be done? It's a foolish old fashion that's kept up still,\"\nsaid Vronsky.\n\n\"So much the worse for those who keep up the fashion. The only happy\nmarriages I know are marriages of prudence.\"\n\n\"Yes, but then how often the happiness of these prudent marriages flies\naway like dust just because that passion turns up that they have refused\nto recognize,\" said Vronsky.\n\n\"But by marriages of prudence we mean those in which both parties have\nsown their wild oats already. That's like scarlatina--one has to go\nthrough it and get it over.\"\n\n\"Then they ought to find out how to vaccinate for love, like smallpox.\"\n\n\"I was in love in my young days with a deacon,\" said the Princess\nMyakaya. \"I don't know that it did me any good.\"\n\n\"No; I imagine, joking apart, that to know love, one must make mistakes\nand then correct them,\" said Princess Betsy.\n\n\"Even after marriage?\" said the ambassador's wife playfully.\n\n\"'It's never too late to mend.'\" The attache repeated the English\nproverb.\n\n\"Just so,\" Betsy agreed; \"one must make mistakes and correct them. What\ndo you think about it?\" she turned to Anna, who, with a faintly\nperceptible resolute smile on her lips, was listening in silence to the\nconversation.\n\n\"I think,\" said Anna, playing with the glove she had taken off, \"I think\n... of so many men, so many minds, certainly so many hearts, so many\nkinds of love.\"\n\nVronsky was gazing at Anna, and with a fainting heart waiting for what\nshe would say. He sighed as after a danger escaped when she uttered\nthese words.\n\nAnna suddenly turned to him.\n\n\"Oh, I have had a letter from Moscow. They write me that Kitty\nShtcherbatskaya's very ill.\"\n\n\"Really?\" said Vronsky, knitting his brows.\n\nAnna looked sternly at him.\n\n\"That doesn't interest you?\"\n\n\"On the contrary, it does, very much. What was it exactly they told you,\nif I may know?\" he questioned.\n\nAnna got up and went to Betsy.\n\n\"Give me a cup of tea,\" she said, standing at her table.\n\nWhile Betsy was pouring out the tea, Vronsky went up to Anna.\n\n\"What is it they write to you?\" he repeated.\n\n\"I often think men have no understanding of what's not honorable though\nthey're always talking of it,\" said Anna, without answering him. \"I've\nwanted to tell you so a long while,\" she added, and moving a few steps\naway, she sat down at a table in a corner covered with albums.\n\n\"I don't quite understand the meaning of your words,\" he said, handing\nher the cup.\n\nShe glanced towards the sofa beside her, and he instantly sat down.\n\n\"Yes, I have been wanting to tell you,\" she said, not looking at him.\n\"You behaved wrongly, very wrongly.\"\n\n\"Do you suppose I don't know that I've acted wrongly? But who was the\ncause of my doing so?\"\n\n\"What do you say that to me for?\" she said, glancing severely at him.\n\n\"You know what for,\" he answered boldly and joyfully, meeting her glance\nand not dropping his eyes.\n\nNot he, but she, was confused.\n\n\"That only shows you have no heart,\" she said. But her eyes said that\nshe knew he had a heart, and that was why she was afraid of him.\n\n\"What you spoke of just now was a mistake, and not love.\"\n\n\"Remember that I have forbidden you to utter that word, that hateful\nword,\" said Anna, with a shudder. But at once she felt that by that very\nword \"forbidden\" she had shown that she acknowledged certain rights over\nhim, and by that very fact was encouraging him to speak of love. \"I have\nlong meant to tell you this,\" she went on, looking resolutely into his\neyes, and hot all over from the burning flush on her cheeks. \"I've come\non purpose this evening, knowing I should meet you. I have come to tell\nyou that this must end. I have never blushed before anyone, and you\nforce me to feel to blame for something.\"\n\nHe looked at her and was struck by a new spiritual beauty in her face.\n\n\"What do you wish of me?\" he said simply and seriously.\n\n\"I want you to go to Moscow and ask for Kitty's forgiveness,\" she said.\n\n\"You don't wish that?\" he said.\n\nHe saw she was saying what she forced herself to say, not what she\nwanted to say.\n\n\"If you love me, as you say,\" she whispered, \"do so that I may be at\npeace.\"\n\nHis face grew radiant.\n\n\"Don't you know that you're all my life to me? But I know no peace, and\nI can't give it to you; all myself--and love ... yes. I can't think of\nyou and myself apart. You and I are one to me. And I see no chance\nbefore us of peace for me or for you. I see a chance of despair, of\nwretchedness ... or I see a chance of bliss, what bliss!... Can it be\nthere's no chance of it?\" he murmured with his lips; but she heard.\n\nShe strained every effort of her mind to say what ought to be said. But\ninstead of that she let her eyes rest on him, full of love, and made no\nanswer.\n\n\"It's come!\" he thought in ecstasy. \"When I was beginning to despair,\nand it seemed there would be no end--it's come! She loves me! She owns\nit!\"\n\n\"Then do this for me: never say such things to me, and let us be\nfriends,\" she said in words; but her eyes spoke quite differently.\n\n\"Friends we shall never be, you know that yourself. Whether we shall be\nthe happiest or the wretchedest of people--that's in your hands.\"\n\nShe would have said something, but he interrupted her.\n\n\"I ask one thing only: I ask for the right to hope, to suffer as I do.\nBut if even that cannot be, command me to disappear, and I disappear.\nYou shall not see me if my presence is distasteful to you.\"\n\n\"I don't want to drive you away.\"\n\n\"Only don't change anything, leave everything as it is,\" he said in a\nshaky voice. \"Here's your husband.\"\n\nAt that instant Alexey Alexandrovitch did in fact walk into the room\nwith his calm, awkward gait.\n\nGlancing at his wife and Vronsky, he went up to the lady of the house,\nand sitting down for a cup of tea, began talking in his deliberate,\nalways audible voice, in his habitual tone of banter, ridiculing\nsomeone.\n\n\"Your Rambouillet is in full conclave,\" he said, looking round at all\nthe party; \"the graces and the muses.\"\n\nBut Princess Betsy could not endure that tone of his--\"sneering,\" as she\ncalled it, using the English word, and like a skillful hostess she at\nonce brought him into a serious conversation on the subject of universal\nconscription. Alexey Alexandrovitch was immediately interested in the\nsubject, and began seriously defending the new imperial decree against\nPrincess Betsy, who had attacked it.\n\nVronsky and Anna still sat at the little table.\n\n\"This is getting indecorous,\" whispered one lady, with an expressive\nglance at Madame Karenina, Vronsky, and her husband.\n\n\"What did I tell you?\" said Anna's friend.\n\nBut not only those ladies, almost everyone in the room, even the\nPrincess Myakaya and Betsy herself, looked several times in the\ndirection of the two who had withdrawn from the general circle, as\nthough that were a disturbing fact. Alexey Alexandrovitch was the only\nperson who did not once look in that direction, and was not diverted\nfrom the interesting discussion he had entered upon.\n\nNoticing the disagreeable impression that was being made on everyone,\nPrincess Betsy slipped someone else into her place to listen to Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, and went up to Anna.\n\n\"I'm always amazed at the clearness and precision of your husband's\nlanguage,\" she said. \"The most transcendental ideas seem to be within my\ngrasp when he's speaking.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" said Anna, radiant with a smile of happiness, and not\nunderstanding a word of what Betsy had said. She crossed over to the big\ntable and took part in the general conversation.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, after staying half an hour, went up to his wife\nand suggested that they should go home together. But she answered, not\nlooking at him, that she was staying to supper. Alexey Alexandrovitch\nmade his bows and withdrew.\n\nThe fat old Tatar, Madame Karenina's coachman, was with difficulty\nholding one of her pair of grays, chilled with the cold and rearing at\nthe entrance. A footman stood opening the carriage door. The hall porter\nstood holding open the great door of the house. Anna Arkadyevna, with\nher quick little hand, was unfastening the lace of her sleeve, caught in\nthe hook of her fur cloak, and with bent head listening to the words\nVronsky murmured as he escorted her down.\n\n\"You've said nothing, of course, and I ask nothing,\" he was saying; \"but\nyou know that friendship's not what I want: that there's only one\nhappiness in life for me, that word that you dislike so ... yes,\nlove!...\"\n\n\"Love,\" she repeated slowly, in an inner voice, and suddenly, at the\nvery instant she unhooked the lace, she added, \"Why I don't like the\nword is that it means too much to me, far more than you can understand,\"\nand she glanced into his face. \"_Au revoir!_\"\n\nShe gave him her hand, and with her rapid, springy step she passed by\nthe porter and vanished into the carriage.\n\nHer glance, the touch of her hand, set him aflame. He kissed the palm of\nhis hand where she had touched it, and went home, happy in the sense\nthat he had got nearer to the attainment of his aims that evening than\nduring the last two months.\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch had seen nothing striking or improper in the fact\nthat his wife was sitting with Vronsky at a table apart, in eager\nconversation with him about something. But he noticed that to the rest\nof the party this appeared something striking and improper, and for that\nreason it seemed to him too to be improper. He made up his mind that he\nmust speak of it to his wife.\n\nOn reaching home Alexey Alexandrovitch went to his study, as he usually\ndid, seated himself in his low chair, opened a book on the Papacy at the\nplace where he had laid the paper-knife in it, and read till one\no'clock, just as he usually did. But from time to time he rubbed his\nhigh forehead and shook his head, as though to drive away something. At\nhis usual time he got up and made his toilet for the night. Anna\nArkadyevna had not yet come in. With a book under his arm he went\nupstairs. But this evening, instead of his usual thoughts and\nmeditations upon official details, his thoughts were absorbed by his\nwife and something disagreeable connected with her. Contrary to his\nusual habit, he did not get into bed, but fell to walking up and down\nthe rooms with his hands clasped behind his back. He could not go to\nbed, feeling that it was absolutely needful for him first to think\nthoroughly over the position that had just arisen.\n\nWhen Alexey Alexandrovitch had made up his mind that he must talk to his\nwife about it, it had seemed a very easy and simple matter. But now,\nwhen he began to think over the question that had just presented itself,\nit seemed to him very complicated and difficult.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch was not jealous. Jealousy according to his notions\nwas an insult to one's wife, and one ought to have confidence in one's\nwife. Why one ought to have confidence--that is to say, complete\nconviction that his young wife would always love him--he did not ask\nhimself. But he had no experience of lack of confidence, because he had\nconfidence in her, and told himself that he ought to have it. Now,\nthough his conviction that jealousy was a shameful feeling and that one\nought to feel confidence, had not broken down, he felt that he was\nstanding face to face with something illogical and irrational, and did\nnot know what was to be done. Alexey Alexandrovitch was standing face to\nface with life, with the possibility of his wife's loving someone other\nthan himself, and this seemed to him very irrational and\nincomprehensible because it was life itself. All his life Alexey\nAlexandrovitch had lived and worked in official spheres, having to do\nwith the reflection of life. And every time he had stumbled against life\nitself he had shrunk away from it. Now he experienced a feeling akin to\nthat of a man who, while calmly crossing a precipice by a bridge, should\nsuddenly discover that the bridge is broken, and that there is a chasm\nbelow. That chasm was life itself, the bridge that artificial life in\nwhich Alexey Alexandrovitch had lived. For the first time the question\npresented itself to him of the possibility of his wife's loving someone\nelse, and he was horrified at it.\n\nHe did not undress, but walked up and down with his regular tread over\nthe resounding parquet of the dining room, where one lamp was burning,\nover the carpet of the dark drawing room, in which the light was\nreflected on the big new portrait of himself hanging over the sofa, and\nacross her boudoir, where two candles burned, lighting up the portraits\nof her parents and woman friends, and the pretty knick-knacks of her\nwriting table, that he knew so well. He walked across her boudoir to the\nbedroom door, and turned back again. At each turn in his walk,\nespecially at the parquet of the lighted dining room, he halted and said\nto himself, \"Yes, this I must decide and put a stop to; I must express\nmy view of it and my decision.\" And he turned back again. \"But express\nwhat--what decision?\" he said to himself in the drawing room, and he\nfound no reply. \"But after all,\" he asked himself before turning into\nthe boudoir, \"what has occurred? Nothing. She was talking a long while\nwith him. But what of that? Surely women in society can talk to whom\nthey please. And then, jealousy means lowering both myself and her,\" he\ntold himself as he went into her boudoir; but this dictum, which had\nalways had such weight with him before, had now no weight and no meaning\nat all. And from the bedroom door he turned back again; but as he\nentered the dark drawing room some inner voice told him that it was not\nso, and that if others noticed it that showed that there was something.\nAnd he said to himself again in the dining room, \"Yes, I must decide and\nput a stop to it, and express my view of it...\" And again at the turn in\nthe drawing room he asked himself, \"Decide how?\" And again he asked\nhimself, \"What had occurred?\" and answered, \"Nothing,\" and recollected\nthat jealousy was a feeling insulting to his wife; but again in the\ndrawing room he was convinced that something had happened. His thoughts,\nlike his body, went round a complete circle, without coming upon\nanything new. He noticed this, rubbed his forehead, and sat down in her\nboudoir.\n\nThere, looking at her table, with the malachite blotting case lying at\nthe top and an unfinished letter, his thoughts suddenly changed. He\nbegan to think of her, of what she was thinking and feeling. For the\nfirst time he pictured vividly to himself her personal life, her ideas,\nher desires, and the idea that she could and should have a separate life\nof her own seemed to him so alarming that he made haste to dispel it. It\nwas the chasm which he was afraid to peep into. To put himself in\nthought and feeling in another person's place was a spiritual exercise\nnot natural to Alexey Alexandrovitch. He looked on this spiritual\nexercise as a harmful and dangerous abuse of the fancy.\n\n\"And the worst of it all,\" thought he, \"is that just now, at the very\nmoment when my great work is approaching completion\" (he was thinking of\nthe project he was bringing forward at the time), \"when I stand in need\nof all my mental peace and all my energies, just now this stupid worry\nshould fall foul of me. But what's to be done? I'm not one of those men\nwho submit to uneasiness and worry without having the force of character\nto face them.\n\n\"I must think it over, come to a decision, and put it out of my mind,\"\nhe said aloud.\n\n\"The question of her feelings, of what has passed and may be passing in\nher soul, that's not my affair; that's the affair of her conscience, and\nfalls under the head of religion,\" he said to himself, feeling\nconsolation in the sense that he had found to which division of\nregulating principles this new circumstance could be properly referred.\n\n\"And so,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch said to himself, \"questions as to her\nfeelings, and so on, are questions for her conscience, with which I can\nhave nothing to do. My duty is clearly defined. As the head of the\nfamily, I am a person bound in duty to guide her, and consequently, in\npart the person responsible; I am bound to point out the danger I\nperceive, to warn her, even to use my authority. I ought to speak\nplainly to her.\" And everything that he would say tonight to his wife\ntook clear shape in Alexey Alexandrovitch's head. Thinking over what he\nwould say, he somewhat regretted that he should have to use his time and\nmental powers for domestic consumption, with so little to show for it,\nbut, in spite of that, the form and contents of the speech before him\nshaped itself as clearly and distinctly in his head as a ministerial\nreport.\n\n\"I must say and express fully the following points: first, exposition of\nthe value to be attached to public opinion and to decorum; secondly,\nexposition of religious significance of marriage; thirdly, if need be,\nreference to the calamity possibly ensuing to our son; fourthly,\nreference to the unhappiness likely to result to herself.\" And,\ninterlacing his fingers, Alexey Alexandrovitch stretched them, and the\njoints of the fingers cracked. This trick, a bad habit, the cracking of\nhis fingers, always soothed him, and gave precision to his thoughts, so\nneedful to him at this juncture.\n\nThere was the sound of a carriage driving up to the front door. Alexey\nAlexandrovitch halted in the middle of the room.\n\nA woman's step was heard mounting the stairs. Alexey Alexandrovitch,\nready for his speech, stood compressing his crossed fingers, waiting to\nsee if the crack would not come again. One joint cracked.\n\nAlready, from the sound of light steps on the stairs, he was aware that\nshe was close, and though he was satisfied with his speech, he felt\nfrightened of the explanation confronting him...\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\n\nAnna came in with hanging head, playing with the tassels of her hood.\nHer face was brilliant and glowing; but this glow was not one of\nbrightness; it suggested the fearful glow of a conflagration in the\nmidst of a dark night. On seeing her husband, Anna raised her head and\nsmiled, as though she had just waked up.\n\n\"You're not in bed? What a wonder!\" she said, letting fall her hood, and\nwithout stopping, she went on into the dressing room. \"It's late, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch,\" she said, when she had gone through the doorway.\n\n\"Anna, it's necessary for me to have a talk with you.\"\n\n\"With me?\" she said, wonderingly. She came out from behind the door of\nthe dressing room, and looked at him. \"Why, what is it? What about?\" she\nasked, sitting down. \"Well, let's talk, if it's so necessary. But it\nwould be better to get to sleep.\"\n\nAnna said what came to her lips, and marveled, hearing herself, at her\nown capacity for lying. How simple and natural were her words, and how\nlikely that she was simply sleepy! She felt herself clad in an\nimpenetrable armor of falsehood. She felt that some unseen force had\ncome to her aid and was supporting her.\n\n\"Anna, I must warn you,\" he began.\n\n\"Warn me?\" she said. \"Of what?\"\n\nShe looked at him so simply, so brightly, that anyone who did not know\nher as her husband knew her could not have noticed anything unnatural,\neither in the sound or the sense of her words. But to him, knowing her,\nknowing that whenever he went to bed five minutes later than usual, she\nnoticed it, and asked him the reason; to him, knowing that every joy,\nevery pleasure and pain that she felt she communicated to him at once;\nto him, now to see that she did not care to notice his state of mind,\nthat she did not care to say a word about herself, meant a great deal.\nHe saw that the inmost recesses of her soul, that had always hitherto\nlain open before him, were closed against him. More than that, he saw\nfrom her tone that she was not even perturbed at that, but as it were\nsaid straight out to him: \"Yes, it's shut up, and so it must be, and\nwill be in future.\" Now he experienced a feeling such as a man might\nhave, returning home and finding his own house locked up. \"But perhaps\nthe key may yet be found,\" thought Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"I want to warn you,\" he said in a low voice, \"that through\nthoughtlessness and lack of caution you may cause yourself to be talked\nabout in society. Your too animated conversation this evening with Count\nVronsky\" (he enunciated the name firmly and with deliberate emphasis)\n\"attracted attention.\"\n\nHe talked and looked at her laughing eyes, which frightened him now with\ntheir impenetrable look, and, as he talked, he felt all the uselessness\nand idleness of his words.\n\n\"You're always like that,\" she answered, as though completely\nmisapprehending him, and of all he had said only taking in the last\nphrase. \"One time you don't like my being dull, and another time you\ndon't like my being lively. I wasn't dull. Does that offend you?\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch shivered, and bent his hands to make the joints\ncrack.\n\n\"Oh, please, don't do that, I do so dislike it,\" she said.\n\n\"Anna, is this you?\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, quietly making an\neffort over himself, and restraining the motion of his fingers.\n\n\"But what is it all about?\" she said, with such genuine and droll\nwonder. \"What do you want of me?\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch paused, and rubbed his forehead and his eyes. He\nsaw that instead of doing as he had intended--that is to say, warning\nhis wife against a mistake in the eyes of the world--he had\nunconsciously become agitated over what was the affair of her\nconscience, and was struggling against the barrier he fancied between\nthem.\n\n\"This is what I meant to say to you,\" he went on coldly and composedly,\n\"and I beg you to listen to it. I consider jealousy, as you know, a\nhumiliating and degrading feeling, and I shall never allow myself to be\ninfluenced by it; but there are certain rules of decorum which cannot be\ndisregarded with impunity. This evening it was not I observed it, but\njudging by the impression made on the company, everyone observed that\nyour conduct and deportment were not altogether what could be desired.\"\n\n\"I positively don't understand,\" said Anna, shrugging her shoulders--\"He\ndoesn't care,\" she thought. \"But other people noticed it, and that's\nwhat upsets him.\"--\"You're not well, Alexey Alexandrovitch,\" she added,\nand she got up, and would have gone towards the door; but he moved\nforward as though he would stop her.\n\nHis face was ugly and forbidding, as Anna had never seen him. She\nstopped, and bending her head back and on one side, began with her rapid\nhand taking out her hairpins.\n\n\"Well, I'm listening to what's to come,\" she said, calmly and\nironically; \"and indeed I listen with interest, for I should like to\nunderstand what's the matter.\"\n\nShe spoke, and marveled at the confident, calm, and natural tone in\nwhich she was speaking, and the choice of the words she used.\n\n\"To enter into all the details of your feelings I have no right, and\nbesides, I regard that as useless and even harmful,\" began Alexey\nAlexandrovitch. \"Ferreting in one's soul, one often ferrets out\nsomething that might have lain there unnoticed. Your feelings are an\naffair of your own conscience; but I am in duty bound to you, to myself,\nand to God, to point out to you your duties. Our life has been joined,\nnot by man, but by God. That union can only be severed by a crime, and a\ncrime of that nature brings its own chastisement.\"\n\n\"I don't understand a word. And, oh dear! how sleepy I am, unluckily,\"\nshe said, rapidly passing her hand through her hair, feeling for the\nremaining hairpins.\n\n\"Anna, for God's sake don't speak like that!\" he said gently. \"Perhaps I\nam mistaken, but believe me, what I say, I say as much for myself as for\nyou. I am your husband, and I love you.\"\n\nFor an instant her face fell, and the mocking gleam in her eyes died\naway; but the word _love_ threw her into revolt again. She thought:\n\"Love? Can he love? If he hadn't heard there was such a thing as love,\nhe would never have used the word. He doesn't even know what love is.\"\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch, really I don't understand,\" she said. \"Define\nwhat it is you find...\"\n\n\"Pardon, let me say all I have to say. I love you. But I am not speaking\nof myself; the most important persons in this matter are our son and\nyourself. It may very well be, I repeat, that my words seem to you\nutterly unnecessary and out of place; it may be that they are called\nforth by my mistaken impression. In that case, I beg you to forgive me.\nBut if you are conscious yourself of even the smallest foundation for\nthem, then I beg you to think a little, and if your heart prompts you,\nto speak out to me...\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch was unconsciously saying something utterly unlike\nwhat he had prepared.\n\n\"I have nothing to say. And besides,\" she said hurriedly, with\ndifficulty repressing a smile, \"it's really time to be in bed.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch sighed, and, without saying more, went into the\nbedroom.\n\nWhen she came into the bedroom, he was already in bed. His lips were\nsternly compressed, and his eyes looked away from her. Anna got into her\nbed, and lay expecting every minute that he would begin to speak to her\nagain. She both feared his speaking and wished for it. But he was\nsilent. She waited for a long while without moving, and had forgotten\nabout him. She thought of that other; she pictured him, and felt how her\nheart was flooded with emotion and guilty delight at the thought of him.\nSuddenly she heard an even, tranquil snore. For the first instant Alexey\nAlexandrovitch seemed, as it were, appalled at his own snoring, and\nceased; but after an interval of two breathings the snore sounded again,\nwith a new tranquil rhythm.\n\n\"It's late, it's late,\" she whispered with a smile. A long while she\nlay, not moving, with open eyes, whose brilliance she almost fancied she\ncould herself see in the darkness.\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\n\nFrom that time a new life began for Alexey Alexandrovitch and for his\nwife. Nothing special happened. Anna went out into society, as she had\nalways done, was particularly often at Princess Betsy's, and met Vronsky\neverywhere. Alexey Alexandrovitch saw this, but could do nothing. All\nhis efforts to draw her into open discussion she confronted with a\nbarrier which he could not penetrate, made up of a sort of amused\nperplexity. Outwardly everything was the same, but their inner relations\nwere completely changed. Alexey Alexandrovitch, a man of great power in\nthe world of politics, felt himself helpless in this. Like an ox with\nhead bent, submissively he awaited the blow which he felt was lifted\nover him. Every time he began to think about it, he felt that he must\ntry once more, that by kindness, tenderness, and persuasion there was\nstill hope of saving her, of bringing her back to herself, and every day\nhe made ready to talk to her. But every time he began talking to her, he\nfelt that the spirit of evil and deceit, which had taken possession of\nher, had possession of him too, and he talked to her in a tone quite\nunlike that in which he had meant to talk. Involuntarily he talked to\nher in his habitual tone of jeering at anyone who should say what he was\nsaying. And in that tone it was impossible to say what needed to be said\nto her.\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\n\nThat which for Vronsky had been almost a whole year the one absorbing\ndesire of his life, replacing all his old desires; that which for Anna\nhad been an impossible, terrible, and even for that reason more\nentrancing dream of bliss, that desire had been fulfilled. He stood\nbefore her, pale, his lower jaw quivering, and besought her to be calm,\nnot knowing how or why.\n\n\"Anna! Anna!\" he said with a choking voice, \"Anna, for pity's sake!...\"\n\nBut the louder he spoke, the lower she dropped her once proud and gay,\nnow shame-stricken head, and she bowed down and sank from the sofa where\nshe was sitting, down on the floor, at his feet; she would have fallen\non the carpet if he had not held her.\n\n\"My God! Forgive me!\" she said, sobbing, pressing his hands to her\nbosom.\n\nShe felt so sinful, so guilty, that nothing was left her but to\nhumiliate herself and beg forgiveness; and as now there was no one in\nher life but him, to him she addressed her prayer for forgiveness.\nLooking at him, she had a physical sense of her humiliation, and she\ncould say nothing more. He felt what a murderer must feel, when he sees\nthe body he has robbed of life. That body, robbed by him of life, was\ntheir love, the first stage of their love. There was something awful and\nrevolting in the memory of what had been bought at this fearful price of\nshame. Shame at their spiritual nakedness crushed her and infected him.\nBut in spite of all the murderer's horror before the body of his victim,\nhe must hack it to pieces, hide the body, must use what he has gained by\nhis murder.\n\nAnd with fury, as it were with passion, the murderer falls on the body,\nand drags it and hacks at it; so he covered her face and shoulders with\nkisses. She held his hand, and did not stir. \"Yes, these kisses--that is\nwhat has been bought by this shame. Yes, and one hand, which will always\nbe mine--the hand of my accomplice.\" She lifted up that hand and kissed\nit. He sank on his knees and tried to see her face; but she hid it, and\nsaid nothing. At last, as though making an effort over herself, she got\nup and pushed him away. Her face was still as beautiful, but it was only\nthe more pitiful for that.\n\n\"All is over,\" she said; \"I have nothing but you. Remember that.\"\n\n\"I can never forget what is my whole life. For one instant of this\nhappiness...\"\n\n\"Happiness!\" she said with horror and loathing and her horror\nunconsciously infected him. \"For pity's sake, not a word, not a word\nmore.\"\n\nShe rose quickly and moved away from him.\n\n\"Not a word more,\" she repeated, and with a look of chill despair,\nincomprehensible to him, she parted from him. She felt that at that\nmoment she could not put into words the sense of shame, of rapture, and\nof horror at this stepping into a new life, and she did not want to\nspeak of it, to vulgarize this feeling by inappropriate words. But later\ntoo, and the next day and the third day, she still found no words in\nwhich she could express the complexity of her feelings; indeed, she\ncould not even find thoughts in which she could clearly think out all\nthat was in her soul.\n\nShe said to herself: \"No, just now I can't think of it, later on, when I\nam calmer.\" But this calm for thought never came; every time the thought\nrose of what she had done and what would happen to her, and what she\nought to do, a horror came over her and she drove those thoughts away.\n\n\"Later, later,\" she said--\"when I am calmer.\"\n\nBut in dreams, when she had no control over her thoughts, her position\npresented itself to her in all its hideous nakedness. One dream haunted\nher almost every night. She dreamed that both were her husbands at once,\nthat both were lavishing caresses on her. Alexey Alexandrovitch was\nweeping, kissing her hands, and saying, \"How happy we are now!\" And\nAlexey Vronsky was there too, and he too was her husband. And she was\nmarveling that it had once seemed impossible to her, was explaining to\nthem, laughing, that this was ever so much simpler, and that now both of\nthem were happy and contented. But this dream weighed on her like a\nnightmare, and she awoke from it in terror.\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\n\nIn the early days after his return from Moscow, whenever Levin shuddered\nand grew red, remembering the disgrace of his rejection, he said to\nhimself: \"This was just how I used to shudder and blush, thinking myself\nutterly lost, when I was plucked in physics and did not get my remove;\nand how I thought myself utterly ruined after I had mismanaged that\naffair of my sister's that was entrusted to me. And yet, now that years\nhave passed, I recall it and wonder that it could distress me so much.\nIt will be the same thing too with this trouble. Time will go by and I\nshall not mind about this either.\"\n\nBut three months had passed and he had not left off minding about it;\nand it was as painful for him to think of it as it had been those first\ndays. He could not be at peace because after dreaming so long of family\nlife, and feeling himself so ripe for it, he was still not married, and\nwas further than ever from marriage. He was painfully conscious himself,\nas were all about him, that at his years it is not well for man to be\nalone. He remembered how before starting for Moscow he had once said to\nhis cowman Nikolay, a simple-hearted peasant, whom he liked talking to:\n\"Well, Nikolay! I mean to get married,\" and how Nikolay had promptly\nanswered, as of a matter on which there could be no possible doubt: \"And\nhigh time too, Konstantin Demitrievitch.\" But marriage had now become\nfurther off than ever. The place was taken, and whenever he tried to\nimagine any of the girls he knew in that place, he felt that it was\nutterly impossible. Moreover, the recollection of the rejection and the\npart he had played in the affair tortured him with shame. However often\nhe told himself that he was in no wise to blame in it, that\nrecollection, like other humiliating reminiscences of a similar kind,\nmade him twinge and blush. There had been in his past, as in every\nman's, actions, recognized by him as bad, for which his conscience ought\nto have tormented him; but the memory of these evil actions was far from\ncausing him so much suffering as those trivial but humiliating\nreminiscences. These wounds never healed. And with these memories was\nnow ranged his rejection and the pitiful position in which he must have\nappeared to others that evening. But time and work did their part.\nBitter memories were more and more covered up by the incidents--paltry\nin his eyes, but really important--of his country life. Every week he\nthought less often of Kitty. He was impatiently looking forward to the\nnews that she was married, or just going to be married, hoping that such\nnews would, like having a tooth out, completely cure him.\n\nMeanwhile spring came on, beautiful and kindly, without the delays and\ntreacheries of spring,--one of those rare springs in which plants,\nbeasts, and man rejoice alike. This lovely spring roused Levin still\nmore, and strengthened him in his resolution of renouncing all his past\nand building up his lonely life firmly and independently. Though many of\nthe plans with which he had returned to the country had not been carried\nout, still his most important resolution--that of purity--had been kept\nby him. He was free from that shame, which had usually harassed him\nafter a fall; and he could look everyone straight in the face. In\nFebruary he had received a letter from Marya Nikolaevna telling him that\nhis brother Nikolay's health was getting worse, but that he would not\ntake advice, and in consequence of this letter Levin went to Moscow to\nhis brother's and succeeded in persuading him to see a doctor and to go\nto a watering-place abroad. He succeeded so well in persuading his\nbrother, and in lending him money for the journey without irritating\nhim, that he was satisfied with himself in that matter. In addition to\nhis farming, which called for special attention in spring, and in\naddition to reading, Levin had begun that winter a work on agriculture,\nthe plan of which turned on taking into account the character of the\nlaborer on the land as one of the unalterable data of the question, like\nthe climate and the soil, and consequently deducing all the principles\nof scientific culture, not simply from the data of soil and climate, but\nfrom the data of soil, climate, and a certain unalterable character of\nthe laborer. Thus, in spite of his solitude, or in consequence of his\nsolitude, his life was exceedingly full. Only rarely he suffered from an\nunsatisfied desire to communicate his stray ideas to someone besides\nAgafea Mihalovna. With her indeed he not infrequently fell into\ndiscussion upon physics, the theory of agriculture, and especially\nphilosophy; philosophy was Agafea Mihalovna's favorite subject.\n\nSpring was slow in unfolding. For the last few weeks it had been\nsteadily fine frosty weather. In the daytime it thawed in the sun, but\nat night there were even seven degrees of frost. There was such a frozen\nsurface on the snow that they drove the wagons anywhere off the roads.\nEaster came in the snow. Then all of a sudden, on Easter Monday, a warm\nwind sprang up, storm clouds swooped down, and for three days and three\nnights the warm, driving rain fell in streams. On Thursday the wind\ndropped, and a thick gray fog brooded over the land as though hiding the\nmysteries of the transformations that were being wrought in nature.\nBehind the fog there was the flowing of water, the cracking and floating\nof ice, the swift rush of turbid, foaming torrents; and on the following\nMonday, in the evening, the fog parted, the storm clouds split up into\nlittle curling crests of cloud, the sky cleared, and the real spring had\ncome. In the morning the sun rose brilliant and quickly wore away the\nthin layer of ice that covered the water, and all the warm air was\nquivering with the steam that rose up from the quickened earth. The old\ngrass looked greener, and the young grass thrust up its tiny blades; the\nbuds of the guelder-rose and of the currant and the sticky birch-buds\nwere swollen with sap, and an exploring bee was humming about the golden\nblossoms that studded the willow. Larks trilled unseen above the velvety\ngreen fields and the ice-covered stubble-land; peewits wailed over the\nlow lands and marshes flooded by the pools; cranes and wild geese flew\nhigh across the sky uttering their spring calls. The cattle, bald in\npatches where the new hair had not grown yet, lowed in the pastures; the\nbowlegged lambs frisked round their bleating mothers. Nimble children\nran about the drying paths, covered with the prints of bare feet. There\nwas a merry chatter of peasant women over their linen at the pond, and\nthe ring of axes in the yard, where the peasants were repairing ploughs\nand harrows. The real spring had come.\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\n\nLevin put on his big boots, and, for the first time, a cloth jacket,\ninstead of his fur cloak, and went out to look after his farm, stepping\nover streams of water that flashed in the sunshine and dazzled his eyes,\nand treading one minute on ice and the next into sticky mud.\n\nSpring is the time of plans and projects. And, as he came out into the\nfarmyard, Levin, like a tree in spring that knows not what form will be\ntaken by the young shoots and twigs imprisoned in its swelling buds,\nhardly knew what undertakings he was going to begin upon now in the farm\nwork that was so dear to him. But he felt that he was full of the most\nsplendid plans and projects. First of all he went to the cattle. The\ncows had been let out into their paddock, and their smooth sides were\nalready shining with their new, sleek, spring coats; they basked in the\nsunshine and lowed to go to the meadow. Levin gazed admiringly at the\ncows he knew so intimately to the minutest detail of their condition,\nand gave orders for them to be driven out into the meadow, and the\ncalves to be let into the paddock. The herdsman ran gaily to get ready\nfor the meadow. The cowherd girls, picking up their petticoats, ran\nsplashing through the mud with bare legs, still white, not yet brown\nfrom the sun, waving brush wood in their hands, chasing the calves that\nfrolicked in the mirth of spring.\n\nAfter admiring the young ones of that year, who were particularly\nfine--the early calves were the size of a peasant's cow, and Pava's\ndaughter, at three months old, was as big as a yearling--Levin gave\norders for a trough to be brought out and for them to be fed in the\npaddock. But it appeared that as the paddock had not been used during\nthe winter, the hurdles made in the autumn for it were broken. He sent\nfor the carpenter, who, according to his orders, ought to have been at\nwork at the thrashing machine. But it appeared that the carpenter was\nrepairing the harrows, which ought to have been repaired before Lent.\nThis was very annoying to Levin. It was annoying to come upon that\neverlasting slovenliness in the farm work against which he had been\nstriving with all his might for so many years. The hurdles, as he\nascertained, being not wanted in winter, had been carried to the\ncart-horses' stable; and there broken, as they were of light\nconstruction, only meant for feeding calves. Moreover, it was apparent\nalso that the harrows and all the agricultural implements, which he had\ndirected to be looked over and repaired in the winter, for which very\npurpose he had hired three carpenters, had not been put into repair, and\nthe harrows were being repaired when they ought to have been harrowing\nthe field. Levin sent for his bailiff, but immediately went off himself\nto look for him. The bailiff, beaming all over, like everyone that day,\nin a sheepskin bordered with astrachan, came out of the barn, twisting a\nbit of straw in his hands.\n\n\"Why isn't the carpenter at the thrashing machine?\"\n\n\"Oh, I meant to tell you yesterday, the harrows want repairing. Here\nit's time they got to work in the fields.\"\n\n\"But what were they doing in the winter, then?\"\n\n\"But what did you want the carpenter for?\"\n\n\"Where are the hurdles for the calves' paddock?\"\n\n\"I ordered them to be got ready. What would you have with those\npeasants!\" said the bailiff, with a wave of his hand.\n\n\"It's not those peasants but this bailiff!\" said Levin, getting angry.\n\"Why, what do I keep you for?\" he cried. But, bethinking himself that\nthis would not help matters, he stopped short in the middle of a\nsentence, and merely sighed. \"Well, what do you say? Can sowing begin?\"\nhe asked, after a pause.\n\n\"Behind Turkin tomorrow or the next day they might begin.\"\n\n\"And the clover?\"\n\n\"I've sent Vassily and Mishka; they're sowing. Only I don't know if\nthey'll manage to get through; it's so slushy.\"\n\n\"How many acres?\"\n\n\"About fifteen.\"\n\n\"Why not sow all?\" cried Levin.\n\nThat they were only sowing the clover on fifteen acres, not on all the\nforty-five, was still more annoying to him. Clover, as he knew, both\nfrom books and from his own experience, never did well except when it\nwas sown as early as possible, almost in the snow. And yet Levin could\nnever get this done.\n\n\"There's no one to send. What would you have with such a set of\npeasants? Three haven't turned up. And there's Semyon...\"\n\n\"Well, you should have taken some men from the thatching.\"\n\n\"And so I have, as it is.\"\n\n\"Where are the peasants, then?\"\n\n\"Five are making compote\" (which meant compost), \"four are shifting the\noats for fear of a touch of mildew, Konstantin Dmitrievitch.\"\n\nLevin knew very well that \"a touch of mildew\" meant that his English\nseed oats were already ruined. Again they had not done as he had\nordered.\n\n\"Why, but I told you during Lent to put in pipes,\" he cried.\n\n\"Don't put yourself out; we shall get it all done in time.\"\n\nLevin waved his hand angrily, went into the granary to glance at the\noats, and then to the stable. The oats were not yet spoiled. But the\npeasants were carrying the oats in spades when they might simply let\nthem slide down into the lower granary; and arranging for this to be\ndone, and taking two workmen from there for sowing clover, Levin got\nover his vexation with the bailiff. Indeed, it was such a lovely day\nthat one could not be angry.\n\n\"Ignat!\" he called to the coachman, who, with his sleeves tucked up, was\nwashing the carriage wheels, \"saddle me...\"\n\n\"Which, sir?\"\n\n\"Well, let it be Kolpik.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\nWhile they were saddling his horse, Levin again called up the bailiff,\nwho was hanging about in sight, to make it up with him, and began\ntalking to him about the spring operations before them, and his plans\nfor the farm.\n\nThe wagons were to begin carting manure earlier, so as to get all done\nbefore the early mowing. And the ploughing of the further land to go on\nwithout a break so as to let it ripen lying fallow. And the mowing to be\nall done by hired labor, not on half-profits. The bailiff listened\nattentively, and obviously made an effort to approve of his employer's\nprojects. But still he had that look Levin knew so well that always\nirritated him, a look of hopelessness and despondency. That look said:\n\"That's all very well, but as God wills.\"\n\nNothing mortified Levin so much as that tone. But it was the tone common\nto all the bailiffs he had ever had. They had all taken up that attitude\nto his plans, and so now he was not angered by it, but mortified, and\nfelt all the more roused to struggle against this, as it seemed,\nelemental force continually ranged against him, for which he could find\nno other expression than \"as God wills.\"\n\n\"If we can manage it, Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\" said the bailiff.\n\n\"Why ever shouldn't you manage it?\"\n\n\"We positively must have another fifteen laborers. And they don't turn\nup. There were some here today asking seventy roubles for the summer.\"\n\nLevin was silent. Again he was brought face to face with that opposing\nforce. He knew that however much they tried, they could not hire more\nthan forty--thirty-seven perhaps or thirty-eight--laborers for a\nreasonable sum. Some forty had been taken on, and there were no more.\nBut still he could not help struggling against it.\n\n\"Send to Sury, to Tchefirovka; if they don't come we must look for\nthem.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'll send, to be sure,\" said Vassily Fedorovitch despondently. \"But\nthere are the horses, too, they're not good for much.\"\n\n\"We'll get some more. I know, of course,\" Levin added laughing, \"you\nalways want to do with as little and as poor quality as possible; but\nthis year I'm not going to let you have things your own way. I'll see to\neverything myself.\"\n\n\"Why, I don't think you take much rest as it is. It cheers us up to work\nunder the master's eye...\"\n\n\"So they're sowing clover behind the Birch Dale? I'll go and have a look\nat them,\" he said, getting on to the little bay cob, Kolpik, who was led\nup by the coachman.\n\n\"You can't get across the streams, Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\" the\ncoachman shouted.\n\n\"All right, I'll go by the forest.\"\n\nAnd Levin rode through the slush of the farmyard to the gate and out\ninto the open country, his good little horse, after his long inactivity,\nstepping out gallantly, snorting over the pools, and asking, as it were,\nfor guidance. If Levin had felt happy before in the cattle pens and\nfarmyard, he felt happier yet in the open country. Swaying rhythmically\nwith the ambling paces of his good little cob, drinking in the warm yet\nfresh scent of the snow and the air, as he rode through his forest over\nthe crumbling, wasted snow, still left in parts, and covered with\ndissolving tracks, he rejoiced over every tree, with the moss reviving\non its bark and the buds swelling on its shoots. When he came out of the\nforest, in the immense plain before him, his grass fields stretched in\nan unbroken carpet of green, without one bare place or swamp, only\nspotted here and there in the hollows with patches of melting snow. He\nwas not put out of temper even by the sight of the peasants' horses and\ncolts trampling down his young grass (he told a peasant he met to drive\nthem out), nor by the sarcastic and stupid reply of the peasant Ipat,\nwhom he met on the way, and asked, \"Well, Ipat, shall we soon be\nsowing?\" \"We must get the ploughing done first, Konstantin\nDmitrievitch,\" answered Ipat. The further he rode, the happier he\nbecame, and plans for the land rose to his mind each better than the\nlast; to plant all his fields with hedges along the southern borders, so\nthat the snow should not lie under them; to divide them up into six\nfields of arable and three of pasture and hay; to build a cattle yard at\nthe further end of the estate, and to dig a pond and to construct\nmovable pens for the cattle as a means of manuring the land. And then\neight hundred acres of wheat, three hundred of potatoes, and four\nhundred of clover, and not one acre exhausted.\n\nAbsorbed in such dreams, carefully keeping his horse by the hedges, so\nas not to trample his young crops, he rode up to the laborers who had\nbeen sent to sow clover. A cart with the seed in it was standing, not at\nthe edge, but in the middle of the crop, and the winter corn had been\ntorn up by the wheels and trampled by the horse. Both the laborers were\nsitting in the hedge, probably smoking a pipe together. The earth in the\ncart, with which the seed was mixed, was not crushed to powder, but\ncrusted together or adhering in clods. Seeing the master, the laborer,\nVassily, went towards the cart, while Mishka set to work sowing. This\nwas not as it should be, but with the laborers Levin seldom lost his\ntemper. When Vassily came up, Levin told him to lead the horse to the\nhedge.\n\n\"It's all right, sir, it'll spring up again,\" responded Vassily.\n\n\"Please don't argue,\" said Levin, \"but do as you're told.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" answered Vassily, and he took the horse's head. \"What a\nsowing, Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\" he said, hesitating; \"first rate. Only\nit's a work to get about! You drag a ton of earth on your shoes.\"\n\n\"Why is it you have earth that's not sifted?\" said Levin.\n\n\"Well, we crumble it up,\" answered Vassily, taking up some seed and\nrolling the earth in his palms.\n\nVassily was not to blame for their having filled up his cart with\nunsifted earth, but still it was annoying.\n\nLevin had more than once already tried a way he knew for stifling his\nanger, and turning all that seemed dark right again, and he tried that\nway now. He watched how Mishka strode along, swinging the huge clods of\nearth that clung to each foot; and getting off his horse, he took the\nsieve from Vassily and started sowing himself.\n\n\"Where did you stop?\"\n\nVassily pointed to the mark with his foot, and Levin went forward as\nbest he could, scattering the seed on the land. Walking was as difficult\nas on a bog, and by the time Levin had ended the row he was in a great\nheat, and he stopped and gave up the sieve to Vassily.\n\n\"Well, master, when summer's here, mind you don't scold me for these\nrows,\" said Vassily.\n\n\"Eh?\" said Levin cheerily, already feeling the effect of his method.\n\n\"Why, you'll see in the summer time. It'll look different. Look you\nwhere I sowed last spring. How I did work at it! I do my best,\nKonstantin Dmitrievitch, d'ye see, as I would for my own father. I don't\nlike bad work myself, nor would I let another man do it. What's good for\nthe master's good for us too. To look out yonder now,\" said Vassily,\npointing, \"it does one's heart good.\"\n\n\"It's a lovely spring, Vassily.\"\n\n\"Why, it's a spring such as the old men don't remember the like of. I\nwas up home; an old man up there has sown wheat too, about an acre of\nit. He was saying you wouldn't know it from rye.\"\n\n\"Have you been sowing wheat long?\"\n\n\"Why, sir, it was you taught us the year before last. You gave me two\nmeasures. We sold about eight bushels and sowed a rood.\"\n\n\"Well, mind you crumble up the clods,\" said Levin, going towards his\nhorse, \"and keep an eye on Mishka. And if there's a good crop you shall\nhave half a rouble for every acre.\"\n\n\"Humbly thankful. We are very well content, sir, as it is.\"\n\nLevin got on his horse and rode towards the field where was last year's\nclover, and the one which was ploughed ready for the spring corn.\n\nThe crop of clover coming up in the stubble was magnificent. It had\nsurvived everything, and stood up vividly green through the broken\nstalks of last year's wheat. The horse sank in up to the pasterns, and\nhe drew each hoof with a sucking sound out of the half-thawed ground.\nOver the ploughland riding was utterly impossible; the horse could only\nkeep a foothold where there was ice, and in the thawing furrows he sank\ndeep in at each step. The ploughland was in splendid condition; in a\ncouple of days it would be fit for harrowing and sowing. Everything was\ncapital, everything was cheering. Levin rode back across the streams,\nhoping the water would have gone down. And he did in fact get across,\nand startled two ducks. \"There must be snipe too,\" he thought, and just\nas he reached the turning homewards he met the forest keeper, who\nconfirmed his theory about the snipe.\n\nLevin went home at a trot, so as to have time to eat his dinner and get\nhis gun ready for the evening.\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\n\nAs he rode up to the house in the happiest frame of mind, Levin heard\nthe bell ring at the side of the principal entrance of the house.\n\n\"Yes, that's someone from the railway station,\" he thought, \"just the\ntime to be here from the Moscow train ... Who could it be? What if it's\nbrother Nikolay? He did say: 'Maybe I'll go to the waters, or maybe I'll\ncome down to you.'\" He felt dismayed and vexed for the first minute,\nthat his brother Nikolay's presence should come to disturb his happy\nmood of spring. But he felt ashamed of the feeling, and at once he\nopened, as it were, the arms of his soul, and with a softened feeling of\njoy and expectation, now he hoped with all his heart that it was his\nbrother. He pricked up his horse, and riding out from behind the acacias\nhe saw a hired three-horse sledge from the railway station, and a\ngentleman in a fur coat. It was not his brother. \"Oh, if it were only\nsome nice person one could talk to a little!\" he thought.\n\n\"Ah,\" cried Levin joyfully, flinging up both his hands. \"Here's a\ndelightful visitor! Ah, how glad I am to see you!\" he shouted,\nrecognizing Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"I shall find out for certain whether she's married, or when she's going\nto be married,\" he thought. And on that delicious spring day he felt\nthat the thought of her did not hurt him at all.\n\n\"Well, you didn't expect me, eh?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, getting out\nof the sledge, splashed with mud on the bridge of his nose, on his\ncheek, and on his eyebrows, but radiant with health and good spirits.\n\"I've come to see you in the first place,\" he said, embracing and\nkissing him, \"to have some stand-shooting second, and to sell the forest\nat Ergushovo third.\"\n\n\"Delightful! What a spring we're having! How ever did you get along in a\nsledge?\"\n\n\"In a cart it would have been worse still, Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\"\nanswered the driver, who knew him.\n\n\"Well, I'm very, very glad to see you,\" said Levin, with a genuine smile\nof childlike delight.\n\nLevin led his friend to the room set apart for visitors, where Stepan\nArkadyevitch's things were carried also--a bag, a gun in a case, a\nsatchel for cigars. Leaving him there to wash and change his clothes,\nLevin went off to the counting house to speak about the ploughing and\nclover. Agafea Mihalovna, always very anxious for the credit of the\nhouse, met him in the hall with inquiries about dinner.\n\n\"Do just as you like, only let it be as soon as possible,\" he said, and\nwent to the bailiff.\n\nWhen he came back, Stepan Arkadyevitch, washed and combed, came out of\nhis room with a beaming smile, and they went upstairs together.\n\n\"Well, I am glad I managed to get away to you! Now I shall understand\nwhat the mysterious business is that you are always absorbed in here.\nNo, really, I envy you. What a house, how nice it all is! So bright, so\ncheerful!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, forgetting that it was not always\nspring and fine weather like that day. \"And your nurse is simply\ncharming! A pretty maid in an apron might be even more agreeable,\nperhaps; but for your severe monastic style it does very well.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch told him many interesting pieces of news; especially\ninteresting to Levin was the news that his brother, Sergey Ivanovitch,\nwas intending to pay him a visit in the summer.\n\nNot one word did Stepan Arkadyevitch say in reference to Kitty and the\nShtcherbatskys; he merely gave him greetings from his wife. Levin was\ngrateful to him for his delicacy and was very glad of his visitor. As\nalways happened with him during his solitude, a mass of ideas and\nfeelings had been accumulating within him, which he could not\ncommunicate to those about him. And now he poured out upon Stepan\nArkadyevitch his poetic joy in the spring, and his failures and plans\nfor the land, and his thoughts and criticisms on the books he had been\nreading, and the idea of his own book, the basis of which really was,\nthough he was unaware of it himself, a criticism of all the old books on\nagriculture. Stepan Arkadyevitch, always charming, understanding\neverything at the slightest reference, was particularly charming on this\nvisit, and Levin noticed in him a special tenderness, as it were, and a\nnew tone of respect that flattered him.\n\nThe efforts of Agafea Mihalovna and the cook, that the dinner should be\nparticularly good, only ended in the two famished friends attacking the\npreliminary course, eating a great deal of bread and butter, salt goose\nand salted mushrooms, and in Levin's finally ordering the soup to be\nserved without the accompaniment of little pies, with which the cook had\nparticularly meant to impress their visitor. But though Stepan\nArkadyevitch was accustomed to very different dinners, he thought\neverything excellent: the herb brandy, and the bread, and the butter,\nand above all the salt goose and the mushrooms, and the nettle soup, and\nthe chicken in white sauce, and the white Crimean wine--everything was\nsuperb and delicious.\n\n\"Splendid, splendid!\" he said, lighting a fat cigar after the roast. \"I\nfeel as if, coming to you, I had landed on a peaceful shore after the\nnoise and jolting of a steamer. And so you maintain that the laborer\nhimself is an element to be studied and to regulate the choice of\nmethods in agriculture. Of course, I'm an ignorant outsider; but I\nshould fancy theory and its application will have its influence on the\nlaborer too.\"\n\n\"Yes, but wait a bit. I'm not talking of political economy, I'm talking\nof the science of agriculture. It ought to be like the natural sciences,\nand to observe given phenomena and the laborer in his economic,\nethnographical...\"\n\nAt that instant Agafea Mihalovna came in with jam.\n\n\"Oh, Agafea Mihalovna,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, kissing the tips of\nhis plump fingers, \"what salt goose, what herb brandy!... What do you\nthink, isn't it time to start, Kostya?\" he added.\n\nLevin looked out of the window at the sun sinking behind the bare\ntree-tops of the forest.\n\n\"Yes, it's time,\" he said. \"Kouzma, get ready the trap,\" and he ran\ndownstairs.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch, going down, carefully took the canvas cover off his\nvarnished gun case with his own hands, and opening it, began to get\nready his expensive new-fashioned gun. Kouzma, who already scented a big\ntip, never left Stepan Arkadyevitch's side, and put on him both his\nstockings and boots, a task which Stepan Arkadyevitch readily left him.\n\n\"Kostya, give orders that if the merchant Ryabinin comes ... I told him\nto come today, he's to be brought in and to wait for me...\"\n\n\"Why, do you mean to say you're selling the forest to Ryabinin?\"\n\n\"Yes. Do you know him?\"\n\n\"To be sure I do. I have had to do business with him, 'positively and\nconclusively.'\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch laughed. \"Positively and conclusively\" were the\nmerchant's favorite words.\n\n\"Yes, it's wonderfully funny the way he talks. She knows where her\nmaster's going!\" he added, patting Laska, who hung about Levin, whining\nand licking his hands, his boots, and his gun.\n\nThe trap was already at the steps when they went out.\n\n\"I told them to bring the trap round; or would you rather walk?\"\n\n\"No, we'd better drive,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, getting into the\ntrap. He sat down, tucked the tiger-skin rug round him, and lighted a\ncigar. \"How is it you don't smoke? A cigar is a sort of thing, not\nexactly a pleasure, but the crown and outward sign of pleasure. Come,\nthis is life! How splendid it is! This is how I should like to live!\"\n\n\"Why, who prevents you?\" said Levin, smiling.\n\n\"No, you're a lucky man! You've got everything you like. You like\nhorses--and you have them; dogs--you have them; shooting--you have it;\nfarming--you have it.\"\n\n\"Perhaps because I rejoice in what I have, and don't fret for what I\nhaven't,\" said Levin, thinking of Kitty.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch comprehended, looked at him, but said nothing.\n\nLevin was grateful to Oblonsky for noticing, with his never-failing\ntact, that he dreaded conversation about the Shtcherbatskys, and so\nsaying nothing about them. But now Levin was longing to find out what\nwas tormenting him so, yet he had not the courage to begin.\n\n\"Come, tell me how things are going with you,\" said Levin, bethinking\nhimself that it was not nice of him to think only of himself.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch's eyes sparkled merrily.\n\n\"You don't admit, I know, that one can be fond of new rolls when one has\nhad one's rations of bread--to your mind it's a crime; but I don't count\nlife as life without love,\" he said, taking Levin's question his own\nway. \"What am I to do? I'm made that way. And really, one does so little\nharm to anyone, and gives oneself so much pleasure...\"\n\n\"What! is there something new, then?\" queried Levin.\n\n\"Yes, my boy, there is! There, do you see, you know the type of Ossian's\nwomen.... Women, such as one sees in dreams.... Well, these women are\nsometimes to be met in reality ... and these women are terrible. Woman,\ndon't you know, is such a subject that however much you study it, it's\nalways perfectly new.\"\n\n\"Well, then, it would be better not to study it.\"\n\n\"No. Some mathematician has said that enjoyment lies in the search for\ntruth, not in the finding it.\"\n\nLevin listened in silence, and in spite of all the efforts he made, he\ncould not in the least enter into the feelings of his friend and\nunderstand his sentiments and the charm of studying such women.\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\n\nThe place fixed on for the stand-shooting was not far above a stream in\na little aspen copse. On reaching the copse, Levin got out of the trap\nand led Oblonsky to a corner of a mossy, swampy glade, already quite\nfree from snow. He went back himself to a double birch tree on the other\nside, and leaning his gun on the fork of a dead lower branch, he took\noff his full overcoat, fastened his belt again, and worked his arms to\nsee if they were free.\n\nGray old Laska, who had followed them, sat down warily opposite him and\npricked up her ears. The sun was setting behind a thick forest, and in\nthe glow of sunset the birch trees, dotted about in the aspen copse,\nstood out clearly with their hanging twigs, and their buds swollen\nalmost to bursting.\n\nFrom the thickest parts of the copse, where the snow still remained,\ncame the faint sound of narrow winding threads of water running away.\nTiny birds twittered, and now and then fluttered from tree to tree.\n\nIn the pauses of complete stillness there came the rustle of last year's\nleaves, stirred by the thawing of the earth and the growth of the grass.\n\n\"Imagine! One can hear and see the grass growing!\" Levin said to\nhimself, noticing a wet, slate-colored aspen leaf moving beside a blade\nof young grass. He stood, listened, and gazed sometimes down at the wet\nmossy ground, sometimes at Laska listening all alert, sometimes at the\nsea of bare tree tops that stretched on the slope below him, sometimes\nat the darkening sky, covered with white streaks of cloud.\n\nA hawk flew high over a forest far away with slow sweep of its wings;\nanother flew with exactly the same motion in the same direction and\nvanished. The birds twittered more and more loudly and busily in the\nthicket. An owl hooted not far off, and Laska, starting, stepped\ncautiously a few steps forward, and putting her head on one side, began\nto listen intently. Beyond the stream was heard the cuckoo. Twice she\nuttered her usual cuckoo call, and then gave a hoarse, hurried call and\nbroke down.\n\n\"Imagine! the cuckoo already!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, coming out from\nbehind a bush.\n\n\"Yes, I hear it,\" answered Levin, reluctantly breaking the stillness\nwith his voice, which sounded disagreeable to himself. \"Now it's\ncoming!\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch's figure again went behind the bush, and Levin saw\nnothing but the bright flash of a match, followed by the red glow and\nblue smoke of a cigarette.\n\n\"Tchk! tchk!\" came the snapping sound of Stepan Arkadyevitch cocking his\ngun.\n\n\"What's that cry?\" asked Oblonsky, drawing Levin's attention to a\nprolonged cry, as though a colt were whinnying in a high voice, in play.\n\n\"Oh, don't you know it? That's the hare. But enough talking! Listen,\nit's flying!\" almost shrieked Levin, cocking his gun.\n\nThey heard a shrill whistle in the distance, and in the exact time, so\nwell known to the sportsman, two seconds later--another, a third, and\nafter the third whistle the hoarse, guttural cry could be heard.\n\nLevin looked about him to right and to left, and there, just facing him\nagainst the dusky blue sky above the confused mass of tender shoots of\nthe aspens, he saw the flying bird. It was flying straight towards him;\nthe guttural cry, like the even tearing of some strong stuff, sounded\nclose to his ear; the long beak and neck of the bird could be seen, and\nat the very instant when Levin was taking aim, behind the bush where\nOblonsky stood, there was a flash of red lightning: the bird dropped\nlike an arrow, and darted upwards again. Again came the red flash and\nthe sound of a blow, and fluttering its wings as though trying to keep\nup in the air, the bird halted, stopped still an instant, and fell with\na heavy splash on the slushy ground.\n\n\"Can I have missed it?\" shouted Stepan Arkadyevitch, who could not see\nfor the smoke.\n\n\"Here it is!\" said Levin, pointing to Laska, who with one ear raised,\nwagging the end of her shaggy tail, came slowly back as though she would\nprolong the pleasure, and as it were smiling, brought the dead bird to\nher master. \"Well, I'm glad you were successful,\" said Levin, who, at\nthe same time, had a sense of envy that he had not succeeded in shooting\nthe snipe.\n\n\"It was a bad shot from the right barrel,\" responded Stepan\nArkadyevitch, loading his gun. \"Sh... it's flying!\"\n\nThe shrill whistles rapidly following one another were heard again. Two\nsnipe, playing and chasing one another, and only whistling, not crying,\nflew straight at the very heads of the sportsmen. There was the report\nof four shots, and like swallows the snipe turned swift somersaults in\nthe air and vanished from sight.\n\nThe stand-shooting was capital. Stepan Arkadyevitch shot two more birds\nand Levin two, of which one was not found. It began to get dark. Venus,\nbright and silvery, shone with her soft light low down in the west\nbehind the birch trees, and high up in the east twinkled the red lights\nof Arcturus. Over his head Levin made out the stars of the Great Bear\nand lost them again. The snipe had ceased flying; but Levin resolved to\nstay a little longer, till Venus, which he saw below a branch of birch,\nshould be above it, and the stars of the Great Bear should be perfectly\nplain. Venus had risen above the branch, and the ear of the Great Bear\nwith its shaft was now all plainly visible against the dark blue sky,\nyet still he waited.\n\n\"Isn't it time to go home?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\nIt was quite still now in the copse, and not a bird was stirring.\n\n\"Let's stay a little while,\" answered Levin.\n\n\"As you like.\"\n\nThey were standing now about fifteen paces from one another.\n\n\"Stiva!\" said Levin unexpectedly; \"how is it you don't tell me whether\nyour sister-in-law's married yet, or when she's going to be?\"\n\nLevin felt so resolute and serene that no answer, he fancied, could\naffect him. But he had never dreamed of what Stepan Arkadyevitch\nreplied.\n\n\"She's never thought of being married, and isn't thinking of it; but\nshe's very ill, and the doctors have sent her abroad. They're positively\nafraid she may not live.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried Levin. \"Very ill? What is wrong with her? How has she...?\"\n\nWhile they were saying this, Laska, with ears pricked up, was looking\nupwards at the sky, and reproachfully at them.\n\n\"They have chosen a time to talk,\" she was thinking. \"It's on the\nwing.... Here it is, yes, it is. They'll miss it,\" thought Laska.\n\nBut at that very instant both suddenly heard a shrill whistle which, as\nit were, smote on their ears, and both suddenly seized their guns and\ntwo flashes gleamed, and two bangs sounded at the very same instant. The\nsnipe flying high above instantly folded its wings and fell into a\nthicket, bending down the delicate shoots.\n\n\"Splendid! Together!\" cried Levin, and he ran with Laska into the\nthicket to look for the snipe.\n\n\"Oh, yes, what was it that was unpleasant?\" he wondered. \"Yes, Kitty's\nill.... Well, it can't be helped; I'm very sorry,\" he thought.\n\n\"She's found it! Isn't she a clever thing?\" he said, taking the warm\nbird from Laska's mouth and packing it into the almost full game bag.\n\"I've got it, Stiva!\" he shouted.\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\n\nOn the way home Levin asked all details of Kitty's illness and the\nShtcherbatskys' plans, and though he would have been ashamed to admit\nit, he was pleased at what he heard. He was pleased that there was still\nhope, and still more pleased that she should be suffering who had made\nhim suffer so much. But when Stepan Arkadyevitch began to speak of the\ncauses of Kitty's illness, and mentioned Vronsky's name, Levin cut him\nshort.\n\n\"I have no right whatever to know family matters, and, to tell the\ntruth, no interest in them either.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch smiled hardly perceptibly, catching the\ninstantaneous change he knew so well in Levin's face, which had become\nas gloomy as it had been bright a minute before.\n\n\"Have you quite settled about the forest with Ryabinin?\" asked Levin.\n\n\"Yes, it's settled. The price is magnificent; thirty-eight thousand.\nEight straight away, and the rest in six years. I've been bothering\nabout it for ever so long. No one would give more.\"\n\n\"Then you've as good as given away your forest for nothing,\" said Levin\ngloomily.\n\n\"How do you mean for nothing?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch with a\ngood-humored smile, knowing that nothing would be right in Levin's eyes\nnow.\n\n\"Because the forest is worth at least a hundred and fifty roubles the\nacre,\" answered Levin.\n\n\"Oh, these farmers!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch playfully. \"Your tone of\ncontempt for us poor townsfolk!... But when it comes to business, we do\nit better than anyone. I assure you I have reckoned it all out,\" he\nsaid, \"and the forest is fetching a very good price--so much so that I'm\nafraid of this fellow's crying off, in fact. You know it's not\n'timber,'\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, hoping by this distinction to\nconvince Levin completely of the unfairness of his doubts. \"And it won't\nrun to more than twenty-five yards of fagots per acre, and he's giving\nme at the rate of seventy roubles the acre.\"\n\nLevin smiled contemptuously. \"I know,\" he thought, \"that fashion not\nonly in him, but in all city people, who, after being twice in ten years\nin the country, pick up two or three phrases and use them in season and\nout of season, firmly persuaded that they know all about it. '_Timber,\nrun to so many yards the acre._' He says those words without\nunderstanding them himself.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't attempt to teach you what you write about in your office,\"\nsaid he, \"and if need arose, I should come to you to ask about it. But\nyou're so positive you know all the lore of the forest. It's difficult.\nHave you counted the trees?\"\n\n\"How count the trees?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, laughing, still trying\nto draw his friend out of his ill-temper. \"Count the sands of the sea,\nnumber the stars. Some higher power might do it.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, the higher power of Ryabinin can. Not a single merchant ever\nbuys a forest without counting the trees, unless they get it given them\nfor nothing, as you're doing now. I know your forest. I go there every\nyear shooting, and your forest's worth a hundred and fifty roubles an\nacre paid down, while he's giving you sixty by installments. So that in\nfact you're making him a present of thirty thousand.\"\n\n\"Come, don't let your imagination run away with you,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch piteously. \"Why was it none would give it, then?\"\n\n\"Why, because he has an understanding with the merchants; he's bought\nthem off. I've had to do with all of them; I know them. They're not\nmerchants, you know: they're speculators. He wouldn't look at a bargain\nthat gave him ten, fifteen per cent profit, but holds back to buy a\nrouble's worth for twenty kopecks.\"\n\n\"Well, enough of it! You're out of temper.\"\n\n\"Not the least,\" said Levin gloomily, as they drove up to the house.\n\nAt the steps there stood a trap tightly covered with iron and leather,\nwith a sleek horse tightly harnessed with broad collar-straps. In the\ntrap sat the chubby, tightly belted clerk who served Ryabinin as\ncoachman. Ryabinin himself was already in the house, and met the friends\nin the hall. Ryabinin was a tall, thinnish, middle-aged man, with\nmustache and a projecting clean-shaven chin, and prominent muddy-looking\neyes. He was dressed in a long-skirted blue coat, with buttons below the\nwaist at the back, and wore high boots wrinkled over the ankles and\nstraight over the calf, with big galoshes drawn over them. He rubbed his\nface with his handkerchief, and wrapping round him his coat, which sat\nextremely well as it was, he greeted them with a smile, holding out his\nhand to Stepan Arkadyevitch, as though he wanted to catch something.\n\n\"So here you are,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, giving him his hand.\n\"That's capital.\"\n\n\"I did not venture to disregard your excellency's commands, though the\nroad was extremely bad. I positively walked the whole way, but I am here\nat my time. Konstantin Dmitrievitch, my respects\"; he turned to Levin,\ntrying to seize his hand too. But Levin, scowling, made as though he did\nnot notice his hand, and took out the snipe. \"Your honors have been\ndiverting yourselves with the chase? What kind of bird may it be, pray?\"\nadded Ryabinin, looking contemptuously at the snipe: \"a great delicacy,\nI suppose.\" And he shook his head disapprovingly, as though he had grave\ndoubts whether this game were worth the candle.\n\n\"Would you like to go into my study?\" Levin said in French to Stepan\nArkadyevitch, scowling morosely. \"Go into my study; you can talk there.\"\n\n\"Quite so, where you please,\" said Ryabinin with contemptuous dignity,\nas though wishing to make it felt that others might be in difficulties\nas to how to behave, but that he could never be in any difficulty about\nanything.\n\nOn entering the study Ryabinin looked about, as his habit was, as though\nseeking the holy picture, but when he had found it, he did not cross\nhimself. He scanned the bookcases and bookshelves, and with the same\ndubious air with which he had regarded the snipe, he smiled\ncontemptuously and shook his head disapprovingly, as though by no means\nwilling to allow that this game were worth the candle.\n\n\"Well, have you brought the money?\" asked Oblonsky. \"Sit down.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't trouble about the money. I've come to see you to talk it\nover.\"\n\n\"What is there to talk over? But do sit down.\"\n\n\"I don't mind if I do,\" said Ryabinin, sitting down and leaning his\nelbows on the back of his chair in a position of the intensest\ndiscomfort to himself. \"You must knock it down a bit, prince. It would\nbe too bad. The money is ready conclusively to the last farthing. As to\npaying the money down, there'll be no hitch there.\"\n\nLevin, who had meanwhile been putting his gun away in the cupboard, was\njust going out of the door, but catching the merchant's words, he\nstopped.\n\n\"Why, you've got the forest for nothing as it is,\" he said. \"He came to\nme too late, or I'd have fixed the price for him.\"\n\nRyabinin got up, and in silence, with a smile, he looked Levin down and\nup.\n\n\"Very close about money is Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\" he said with a\nsmile, turning to Stepan Arkadyevitch; \"there's positively no dealing\nwith him. I was bargaining for some wheat of him, and a pretty price I\noffered too.\"\n\n\"Why should I give you my goods for nothing? I didn't pick it up on the\nground, nor steal it either.\"\n\n\"Mercy on us! nowadays there's no chance at all of stealing. With the\nopen courts and everything done in style, nowadays there's no question\nof stealing. We are just talking things over like gentlemen. His\nexcellency's asking too much for the forest. I can't make both ends meet\nover it. I must ask for a little concession.\"\n\n\"But is the thing settled between you or not? If it's settled, it's\nuseless haggling; but if it's not,\" said Levin, \"I'll buy the forest.\"\n\nThe smile vanished at once from Ryabinin's face. A hawklike, greedy,\ncruel expression was left upon it. With rapid, bony fingers he\nunbuttoned his coat, revealing a shirt, bronze waistcoat buttons, and a\nwatch chain, and quickly pulled out a fat old pocketbook.\n\n\"Here you are, the forest is mine,\" he said, crossing himself quickly,\nand holding out his hand. \"Take the money; it's my forest. That's\nRyabinin's way of doing business; he doesn't haggle over every\nhalf-penny,\" he added, scowling and waving the pocketbook.\n\n\"I wouldn't be in a hurry if I were you,\" said Levin.\n\n\"Come, really,\" said Oblonsky in surprise. \"I've given my word, you\nknow.\"\n\nLevin went out of the room, slamming the door. Ryabinin looked towards\nthe door and shook his head with a smile.\n\n\"It's all youthfulness--positively nothing but boyishness. Why, I'm\nbuying it, upon my honor, simply, believe me, for the glory of it, that\nRyabinin, and no one else, should have bought the copse of Oblonsky. And\nas to the profits, why, I must make what God gives. In God's name. If\nyou would kindly sign the title-deed...\"\n\nWithin an hour the merchant, stroking his big overcoat neatly down, and\nhooking up his jacket, with the agreement in his pocket, seated himself\nin his tightly covered trap, and drove homewards.\n\n\"Ugh, these gentlefolks!\" he said to the clerk. \"They--they're a nice\nlot!\"\n\n\"That's so,\" responded the clerk, handing him the reins and buttoning\nthe leather apron. \"But I can congratulate you on the purchase, Mihail\nIgnatitch?\"\n\n\"Well, well...\"\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch went upstairs with his pocket bulging with notes,\nwhich the merchant had paid him for three months in advance. The\nbusiness of the forest was over, the money in his pocket; their shooting\nhad been excellent, and Stepan Arkadyevitch was in the happiest frame of\nmind, and so he felt specially anxious to dissipate the ill-humor that\nhad come upon Levin. He wanted to finish the day at supper as pleasantly\nas it had been begun.\n\nLevin certainly was out of humor, and in spite of all his desire to be\naffectionate and cordial to his charming visitor, he could not control\nhis mood. The intoxication of the news that Kitty was not married had\ngradually begun to work upon him.\n\nKitty was not married, but ill, and ill from love for a man who had\nslighted her. This slight, as it were, rebounded upon him. Vronsky had\nslighted her, and she had slighted him, Levin. Consequently Vronsky had\nthe right to despise Levin, and therefore he was his enemy. But all this\nLevin did not think out. He vaguely felt that there was something in it\ninsulting to him, and he was not angry now at what had disturbed him,\nbut he fell foul of everything that presented itself. The stupid sale of\nthe forest, the fraud practiced upon Oblonsky and concluded in his\nhouse, exasperated him.\n\n\"Well, finished?\" he said, meeting Stepan Arkadyevitch upstairs. \"Would\nyou like supper?\"\n\n\"Well, I wouldn't say no to it. What an appetite I get in the country!\nWonderful! Why didn't you offer Ryabinin something?\"\n\n\"Oh, damn him!\"\n\n\"Still, how you do treat him!\" said Oblonsky. \"You didn't even shake\nhands with him. Why not shake hands with him?\"\n\n\"Because I don't shake hands with a waiter, and a waiter's a hundred\ntimes better than he is.\"\n\n\"What a reactionist you are, really! What about the amalgamation of\nclasses?\" said Oblonsky.\n\n\"Anyone who likes amalgamating is welcome to it, but it sickens me.\"\n\n\"You're a regular reactionist, I see.\"\n\n\"Really, I have never considered what I am. I am Konstantin Levin, and\nnothing else.\"\n\n\"And Konstantin Levin very much out of temper,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, smiling.\n\n\"Yes, I am out of temper, and do you know why? Because--excuse me--of\nyour stupid sale...\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch frowned good-humoredly, like one who feels himself\nteased and attacked for no fault of his own.\n\n\"Come, enough about it!\" he said. \"When did anybody ever sell anything\nwithout being told immediately after the sale, 'It was worth much more'?\nBut when one wants to sell, no one will give anything.... No, I see\nyou've a grudge against that unlucky Ryabinin.\"\n\n\"Maybe I have. And do you know why? You'll say again that I'm a\nreactionist, or some other terrible word; but all the same it does annoy\nand anger me to see on all sides the impoverishing of the nobility to\nwhich I belong, and, in spite of the amalgamation of classes, I'm glad\nto belong. And their impoverishment is not due to extravagance--that\nwould be nothing; living in good style--that's the proper thing for\nnoblemen; it's only the nobles who know how to do it. Now the peasants\nabout us buy land, and I don't mind that. The gentleman does nothing,\nwhile the peasant works and supplants the idle man. That's as it ought\nto be. And I'm very glad for the peasant. But I do mind seeing the\nprocess of impoverishment from a sort of--I don't know what to call\nit--innocence. Here a Polish speculator bought for half its value a\nmagnificent estate from a young lady who lives in Nice. And there a\nmerchant will get three acres of land, worth ten roubles, as security\nfor the loan of one rouble. Here, for no kind of reason, you've made\nthat rascal a present of thirty thousand roubles.\"\n\n\"Well, what should I have done? Counted every tree?\"\n\n\"Of course, they must be counted. You didn't count them, but Ryabinin\ndid. Ryabinin's children will have means of livelihood and education,\nwhile yours maybe will not!\"\n\n\"Well, you must excuse me, but there's something mean in this counting.\nWe have our business and they have theirs, and they must make their\nprofit. Anyway, the thing's done, and there's an end of it. And here\ncome some poached eggs, my favorite dish. And Agafea Mihalovna will give\nus that marvelous herb-brandy...\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch sat down at the table and began joking with Agafea\nMihalovna, assuring her that it was long since he had tasted such a\ndinner and such a supper.\n\n\"Well, you do praise it, anyway,\" said Agafea Mihalovna, \"but Konstantin\nDmitrievitch, give him what you will--a crust of bread--he'll eat it and\nwalk away.\"\n\nThough Levin tried to control himself, he was gloomy and silent. He\nwanted to put one question to Stepan Arkadyevitch, but he could not\nbring himself to the point, and could not find the words or the moment\nin which to put it. Stepan Arkadyevitch had gone down to his room,\nundressed, again washed, and attired in a nightshirt with goffered\nfrills, he had got into bed, but Levin still lingered in his room,\ntalking of various trifling matters, and not daring to ask what he\nwanted to know.\n\n\"How wonderfully they make this soap,\" he said gazing at a piece of soap\nhe was handling, which Agafea Mihalovna had put ready for the visitor\nbut Oblonsky had not used. \"Only look; why, it's a work of art.\"\n\n\"Yes, everything's brought to such a pitch of perfection nowadays,\" said\nStepan Arkadyevitch, with a moist and blissful yawn. \"The theater, for\ninstance, and the entertainments ... a--a--a!\" he yawned. \"The electric\nlight everywhere ... a--a--a!\"\n\n\"Yes, the electric light,\" said Levin. \"Yes. Oh, and where's Vronsky\nnow?\" he asked suddenly, laying down the soap.\n\n\"Vronsky?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, checking his yawn; \"he's in\nPetersburg. He left soon after you did, and he's not once been in Moscow\nsince. And do you know, Kostya, I'll tell you the truth,\" he went on,\nleaning his elbow on the table, and propping on his hand his handsome\nruddy face, in which his moist, good-natured, sleepy eyes shone like\nstars. \"It's your own fault. You took fright at the sight of your rival.\nBut, as I told you at the time, I couldn't say which had the better\nchance. Why didn't you fight it out? I told you at the time that....\" He\nyawned inwardly, without opening his mouth.\n\n\"Does he know, or doesn't he, that I did make an offer?\" Levin wondered,\ngazing at him. \"Yes, there's something humbugging, diplomatic in his\nface,\" and feeling he was blushing, he looked Stepan Arkadyevitch\nstraight in the face without speaking.\n\n\"If there was anything on her side at the time, it was nothing but a\nsuperficial attraction,\" pursued Oblonsky. \"His being such a perfect\naristocrat, don't you know, and his future position in society, had an\ninfluence not with her, but with her mother.\"\n\nLevin scowled. The humiliation of his rejection stung him to the heart,\nas though it were a fresh wound he had only just received. But he was at\nhome, and the walls of home are a support.\n\n\"Stay, stay,\" he began, interrupting Oblonsky. \"You talk of his being an\naristocrat. But allow me to ask what it consists in, that aristocracy of\nVronsky or of anybody else, beside which I can be looked down upon? You\nconsider Vronsky an aristocrat, but I don't. A man whose father crawled\nup from nothing at all by intrigue, and whose mother--God knows whom she\nwasn't mixed up with.... No, excuse me, but I consider myself\naristocratic, and people like me, who can point back in the past to\nthree or four honorable generations of their family, of the highest\ndegree of breeding (talent and intellect, of course that's another\nmatter), and have never curried favor with anyone, never depended on\nanyone for anything, like my father and my grandfather. And I know many\nsuch. You think it mean of me to count the trees in my forest, while you\nmake Ryabinin a present of thirty thousand; but you get rents from your\nlands and I don't know what, while I don't and so I prize what's come to\nme from my ancestors or been won by hard work.... We are aristocrats,\nand not those who can only exist by favor of the powerful of this world,\nand who can be bought for twopence halfpenny.\"\n\n\"Well, but whom are you attacking? I agree with you,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, sincerely and genially; though he was aware that in the\nclass of those who could be bought for twopence halfpenny Levin was\nreckoning him too. Levin's warmth gave him genuine pleasure. \"Whom are\nyou attacking? Though a good deal is not true that you say about\nVronsky, but I won't talk about that. I tell you straight out, if I were\nyou, I should go back with me to Moscow, and...\"\n\n\"No; I don't know whether you know it or not, but I don't care. And I\ntell you--I did make an offer and was rejected, and Katerina\nAlexandrovna is nothing now to me but a painful and humiliating\nreminiscence.\"\n\n\"What ever for? What nonsense!\"\n\n\"But we won't talk about it. Please forgive me, if I've been nasty,\"\nsaid Levin. Now that he had opened his heart, he became as he had been\nin the morning. \"You're not angry with me, Stiva? Please don't be\nangry,\" he said, and smiling, he took his hand.\n\n\"Of course not; not a bit, and no reason to be. I'm glad we've spoken\nopenly. And do you know, stand-shooting in the morning is unusually\ngood--why not go? I couldn't sleep the night anyway, but I might go\nstraight from shooting to the station.\"\n\n\"Capital.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\n\nAlthough all Vronsky's inner life was absorbed in his passion, his\nexternal life unalterably and inevitably followed along the old\naccustomed lines of his social and regimental ties and interests. The\ninterests of his regiment took an important place in Vronsky's life,\nboth because he was fond of the regiment, and because the regiment was\nfond of him. They were not only fond of Vronsky in his regiment, they\nrespected him too, and were proud of him; proud that this man, with his\nimmense wealth, his brilliant education and abilities, and the path open\nbefore him to every kind of success, distinction, and ambition, had\ndisregarded all that, and of all the interests of life had the interests\nof his regiment and his comrades nearest to his heart. Vronsky was aware\nof his comrades' view of him, and in addition to his liking for the\nlife, he felt bound to keep up that reputation.\n\nIt need not be said that he did not speak of his love to any of his\ncomrades, nor did he betray his secret even in the wildest drinking\nbouts (though indeed he was never so drunk as to lose all control of\nhimself). And he shut up any of his thoughtless comrades who attempted\nto allude to his connection. But in spite of that, his love was known to\nall the town; everyone guessed with more or less confidence at his\nrelations with Madame Karenina. The majority of the younger men envied\nhim for just what was the most irksome factor in his love--the exalted\nposition of Karenin, and the consequent publicity of their connection in\nsociety.\n\nThe greater number of the young women, who envied Anna and had long been\nweary of hearing her called _virtuous_, rejoiced at the fulfillment of\ntheir predictions, and were only waiting for a decisive turn in public\nopinion to fall upon her with all the weight of their scorn. They were\nalready making ready their handfuls of mud to fling at her when the\nright moment arrived. The greater number of the middle-aged people and\ncertain great personages were displeased at the prospect of the\nimpending scandal in society.\n\nVronsky's mother, on hearing of his connection, was at first pleased at\nit, because nothing to her mind gave such a finishing touch to a\nbrilliant young man as a _liaison_ in the highest society; she was\npleased, too, that Madame Karenina, who had so taken her fancy, and had\ntalked so much of her son, was, after all, just like all other pretty\nand well-bred women,--at least according to the Countess Vronskaya's\nideas. But she had heard of late that her son had refused a position\noffered him of great importance to his career, simply in order to remain\nin the regiment, where he could be constantly seeing Madame Karenina.\nShe learned that great personages were displeased with him on this\naccount, and she changed her opinion. She was vexed, too, that from all\nshe could learn of this connection it was not that brilliant, graceful,\nworldly _liaison_ which she would have welcomed, but a sort of\nWertherish, desperate passion, so she was told, which might well lead\nhim into imprudence. She had not seen him since his abrupt departure\nfrom Moscow, and she sent her elder son to bid him come to see her.\n\nThis elder son, too, was displeased with his younger brother. He did not\ndistinguish what sort of love his might be, big or little, passionate or\npassionless, lasting or passing (he kept a ballet girl himself, though\nhe was the father of a family, so he was lenient in these matters), but\nhe knew that this love affair was viewed with displeasure by those whom\nit was necessary to please, and therefore he did not approve of his\nbrother's conduct.\n\nBesides the service and society, Vronsky had another great\ninterest--horses; he was passionately fond of horses.\n\nThat year races and a steeplechase had been arranged for the officers.\nVronsky had put his name down, bought a thoroughbred English mare, and\nin spite of his love affair, he was looking forward to the races with\nintense, though reserved, excitement...\n\nThese two passions did not interfere with one another. On the contrary,\nhe needed occupation and distraction quite apart from his love, so as to\nrecruit and rest himself from the violent emotions that agitated him.\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\n\nOn the day of the races at Krasnoe Selo, Vronsky had come earlier than\nusual to eat beefsteak in the common messroom of the regiment. He had no\nneed to be strict with himself, as he had very quickly been brought down\nto the required light weight; but still he had to avoid gaining flesh,\nand so he eschewed farinaceous and sweet dishes. He sat with his coat\nunbuttoned over a white waistcoat, resting both elbows on the table, and\nwhile waiting for the steak he had ordered he looked at a French novel\nthat lay open on his plate. He was only looking at the book to avoid\nconversation with the officers coming in and out; he was thinking.\n\nHe was thinking of Anna's promise to see him that day after the races.\nBut he had not seen her for three days, and as her husband had just\nreturned from abroad, he did not know whether she would be able to meet\nhim today or not, and he did not know how to find out. He had had his\nlast interview with her at his cousin Betsy's summer villa. He visited\nthe Karenins' summer villa as rarely as possible. Now he wanted to go\nthere, and he pondered the question how to do it.\n\n\"Of course I shall say Betsy has sent me to ask whether she's coming to\nthe races. Of course, I'll go,\" he decided, lifting his head from the\nbook. And as he vividly pictured the happiness of seeing her, his face\nlighted up.\n\n\"Send to my house, and tell them to have out the carriage and three\nhorses as quick as they can,\" he said to the servant, who handed him the\nsteak on a hot silver dish, and moving the dish up he began eating.\n\nFrom the billiard room next door came the sound of balls knocking, of\ntalk and laughter. Two officers appeared at the entrance-door: one, a\nyoung fellow, with a feeble, delicate face, who had lately joined the\nregiment from the Corps of Pages; the other, a plump, elderly officer,\nwith a bracelet on his wrist, and little eyes, lost in fat.\n\nVronsky glanced at them, frowned, and looking down at his book as though\nhe had not noticed them, he proceeded to eat and read at the same time.\n\n\"What? Fortifying yourself for your work?\" said the plump officer,\nsitting down beside him.\n\n\"As you see,\" responded Vronsky, knitting his brows, wiping his mouth,\nand not looking at the officer.\n\n\"So you're not afraid of getting fat?\" said the latter, turning a chair\nround for the young officer.\n\n\"What?\" said Vronsky angrily, making a wry face of disgust, and showing\nhis even teeth.\n\n\"You're not afraid of getting fat?\"\n\n\"Waiter, sherry!\" said Vronsky, without replying, and moving the book to\nthe other side of him, he went on reading.\n\nThe plump officer took up the list of wines and turned to the young\nofficer.\n\n\"You choose what we're to drink,\" he said, handing him the card, and\nlooking at him.\n\n\"Rhine wine, please,\" said the young officer, stealing a timid glance at\nVronsky, and trying to pull his scarcely visible mustache. Seeing that\nVronsky did not turn round, the young officer got up.\n\n\"Let's go into the billiard room,\" he said.\n\nThe plump officer rose submissively, and they moved towards the door.\n\nAt that moment there walked into the room the tall and well-built\nCaptain Yashvin. Nodding with an air of lofty contempt to the two\nofficers, he went up to Vronsky.\n\n\"Ah! here he is!\" he cried, bringing his big hand down heavily on his\nepaulet. Vronsky looked round angrily, but his face lighted up\nimmediately with his characteristic expression of genial and manly\nserenity.\n\n\"That's it, Alexey,\" said the captain, in his loud baritone. \"You must\njust eat a mouthful, now, and drink only one tiny glass.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm not hungry.\"\n\n\"There go the inseparables,\" Yashvin dropped, glancing sarcastically at\nthe two officers who were at that instant leaving the room. And he bent\nhis long legs, swathed in tight riding breeches, and sat down in the\nchair, too low for him, so that his knees were cramped up in a sharp\nangle.\n\n\"Why didn't you turn up at the Red Theater yesterday? Numerova wasn't at\nall bad. Where were you?\"\n\n\"I was late at the Tverskoys',\" said Vronsky.\n\n\"Ah!\" responded Yashvin.\n\nYashvin, a gambler and a rake, a man not merely without moral\nprinciples, but of immoral principles, Yashvin was Vronsky's greatest\nfriend in the regiment. Vronsky liked him both for his exceptional\nphysical strength, which he showed for the most part by being able to\ndrink like a fish, and do without sleep without being in the slightest\ndegree affected by it; and for his great strength of character, which he\nshowed in his relations with his comrades and superior officers,\ncommanding both fear and respect, and also at cards, when he would play\nfor tens of thousands and however much he might have drunk, always with\nsuch skill and decision that he was reckoned the best player in the\nEnglish Club. Vronsky respected and liked Yashvin particularly because\nhe felt Yashvin liked him, not for his name and his money, but for\nhimself. And of all men he was the only one with whom Vronsky would have\nliked to speak of his love. He felt that Yashvin, in spite of his\napparent contempt for every sort of feeling, was the only man who could,\nso he fancied, comprehend the intense passion which now filled his whole\nlife. Moreover, he felt certain that Yashvin, as it was, took no delight\nin gossip and scandal, and interpreted his feeling rightly, that is to\nsay, knew and believed that this passion was not a jest, not a pastime,\nbut something more serious and important.\n\nVronsky had never spoken to him of his passion, but he was aware that he\nknew all about it, and that he put the right interpretation on it, and\nhe was glad to see that in his eyes.\n\n\"Ah! yes,\" he said, to the announcement that Vronsky had been at the\nTverskoys'; and his black eyes shining, he plucked at his left mustache,\nand began twisting it into his mouth, a bad habit he had.\n\n\"Well, and what did you do yesterday? Win anything?\" asked Vronsky.\n\n\"Eight thousand. But three don't count; he won't pay up.\"\n\n\"Oh, then you can afford to lose over me,\" said Vronsky, laughing.\n(Yashvin had bet heavily on Vronsky in the races.)\n\n\"No chance of my losing. Mahotin's the only one that's risky.\"\n\nAnd the conversation passed to forecasts of the coming race, the only\nthing Vronsky could think of just now.\n\n\"Come along, I've finished,\" said Vronsky, and getting up he went to the\ndoor. Yashvin got up too, stretching his long legs and his long back.\n\n\"It's too early for me to dine, but I must have a drink. I'll come along\ndirectly. Hi, wine!\" he shouted, in his rich voice, that always rang out\nso loudly at drill, and set the windows shaking now.\n\n\"No, all right,\" he shouted again immediately after. \"You're going home,\nso I'll go with you.\"\n\nAnd he walked out with Vronsky.\n\n\n\nChapter 20\n\n\nVronsky was staying in a roomy, clean, Finnish hut, divided into two by\na partition. Petritsky lived with him in camp too. Petritsky was asleep\nwhen Vronsky and Yashvin came into the hut.\n\n\"Get up, don't go on sleeping,\" said Yashvin, going behind the partition\nand giving Petritsky, who was lying with ruffled hair and with his nose\nin the pillow, a prod on the shoulder.\n\nPetritsky jumped up suddenly onto his knees and looked round.\n\n\"Your brother's been here,\" he said to Vronsky. \"He waked me up, damn\nhim, and said he'd look in again.\" And pulling up the rug he flung\nhimself back on the pillow. \"Oh, do shut up, Yashvin!\" he said, getting\nfurious with Yashvin, who was pulling the rug off him. \"Shut up!\" He\nturned over and opened his eyes. \"You'd better tell me what to drink;\nsuch a nasty taste in my mouth, that...\"\n\n\"Brandy's better than anything,\" boomed Yashvin. \"Tereshtchenko! brandy\nfor your master and cucumbers,\" he shouted, obviously taking pleasure in\nthe sound of his own voice.\n\n\"Brandy, do you think? Eh?\" queried Petritsky, blinking and rubbing his\neyes. \"And you'll drink something? All right then, we'll have a drink\ntogether! Vronsky, have a drink?\" said Petritsky, getting up and\nwrapping the tiger-skin rug round him. He went to the door of the\npartition wall, raised his hands, and hummed in French, \"There was a\nking in Thule.\" \"Vronsky, will you have a drink?\"\n\n\"Go along,\" said Vronsky, putting on the coat his valet handed to him.\n\n\"Where are you off to?\" asked Yashvin. \"Oh, here are your three horses,\"\nhe added, seeing the carriage drive up.\n\n\"To the stables, and I've got to see Bryansky, too, about the horses,\"\nsaid Vronsky.\n\nVronsky had as a fact promised to call at Bryansky's, some eight miles\nfrom Peterhof, and to bring him some money owing for some horses; and he\nhoped to have time to get that in too. But his comrades were at once\naware that he was not only going there.\n\nPetritsky, still humming, winked and made a pout with his lips, as\nthough he would say: \"Oh, yes, we know your Bryansky.\"\n\n\"Mind you're not late!\" was Yashvin's only comment; and to change the\nconversation: \"How's my roan? is he doing all right?\" he inquired,\nlooking out of the window at the middle one of the three horses, which\nhe had sold Vronsky.\n\n\"Stop!\" cried Petritsky to Vronsky as he was just going out. \"Your\nbrother left a letter and a note for you. Wait a bit; where are they?\"\n\nVronsky stopped.\n\n\"Well, where are they?\"\n\n\"Where are they? That's just the question!\" said Petritsky solemnly,\nmoving his forefinger upwards from his nose.\n\n\"Come, tell me; this is silly!\" said Vronsky smiling.\n\n\"I have not lighted the fire. Here somewhere about.\"\n\n\"Come, enough fooling! Where is the letter?\"\n\n\"No, I've forgotten really. Or was it a dream? Wait a bit, wait a bit!\nBut what's the use of getting in a rage. If you'd drunk four bottles\nyesterday as I did you'd forget where you were lying. Wait a bit, I'll\nremember!\"\n\nPetritsky went behind the partition and lay down on his bed.\n\n\"Wait a bit! This was how I was lying, and this was how he was standing.\nYes--yes--yes.... Here it is!\"--and Petritsky pulled a letter out from\nunder the mattress, where he had hidden it.\n\nVronsky took the letter and his brother's note. It was the letter he was\nexpecting--from his mother, reproaching him for not having been to see\nher--and the note was from his brother to say that he must have a little\ntalk with him. Vronsky knew that it was all about the same thing. \"What\nbusiness is it of theirs!\" thought Vronsky, and crumpling up the letters\nhe thrust them between the buttons of his coat so as to read them\ncarefully on the road. In the porch of the hut he was met by two\nofficers; one of his regiment and one of another.\n\nVronsky's quarters were always a meeting place for all the officers.\n\n\"Where are you off to?\"\n\n\"I must go to Peterhof.\"\n\n\"Has the mare come from Tsarskoe?\"\n\n\"Yes, but I've not seen her yet.\"\n\n\"They say Mahotin's Gladiator's lame.\"\n\n\"Nonsense! But however are you going to race in this mud?\" said the\nother.\n\n\"Here are my saviors!\" cried Petritsky, seeing them come in. Before him\nstood the orderly with a tray of brandy and salted cucumbers. \"Here's\nYashvin ordering me to drink a pick-me-up.\"\n\n\"Well, you did give it to us yesterday,\" said one of those who had come\nin; \"you didn't let us get a wink of sleep all night.\"\n\n\"Oh, didn't we make a pretty finish!\" said Petritsky. \"Volkov climbed\nonto the roof and began telling us how sad he was. I said: 'Let's have\nmusic, the funeral march!' He fairly dropped asleep on the roof over the\nfuneral march.\"\n\n\"Drink it up; you positively must drink the brandy, and then seltzer\nwater and a lot of lemon,\" said Yashvin, standing over Petritsky like a\nmother making a child take medicine, \"and then a little champagne--just\na small bottle.\"\n\n\"Come, there's some sense in that. Stop a bit, Vronsky. We'll all have a\ndrink.\"\n\n\"No; good-bye all of you. I'm not going to drink today.\"\n\n\"Why, are you gaining weight? All right, then we must have it alone.\nGive us the seltzer water and lemon.\"\n\n\"Vronsky!\" shouted someone when he was already outside.\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"You'd better get your hair cut, it'll weigh you down, especially at the\ntop.\"\n\nVronsky was in fact beginning, prematurely, to get a little bald. He\nlaughed gaily, showing his even teeth, and pulling his cap over the thin\nplace, went out and got into his carriage.\n\n\"To the stables!\" he said, and was just pulling out the letters to read\nthem through, but he thought better of it, and put off reading them so\nas not to distract his attention before looking at the mare. \"Later!\"\n\n\n\nChapter 21\n\n\nThe temporary stable, a wooden shed, had been put up close to the race\ncourse, and there his mare was to have been taken the previous day. He\nhad not yet seen her there.\n\nDuring the last few days he had not ridden her out for exercise himself,\nbut had put her in the charge of the trainer, and so now he positively\ndid not know in what condition his mare had arrived yesterday and was\ntoday. He had scarcely got out of his carriage when his groom, the\nso-called \"stable boy,\" recognizing the carriage some way off, called\nthe trainer. A dry-looking Englishman, in high boots and a short jacket,\nclean-shaven, except for a tuft below his chin, came to meet him,\nwalking with the uncouth gait of jockey, turning his elbows out and\nswaying from side to side.\n\n\"Well, how's Frou-Frou?\" Vronsky asked in English.\n\n\"All right, sir,\" the Englishman's voice responded somewhere in the\ninside of his throat. \"Better not go in,\" he added, touching his hat.\n\"I've put a muzzle on her, and the mare's fidgety. Better not go in,\nit'll excite the mare.\"\n\n\"No, I'm going in. I want to look at her.\"\n\n\"Come along, then,\" said the Englishman, frowning, and speaking with his\nmouth shut, and, with swinging elbows, he went on in front with his\ndisjointed gait.\n\nThey went into the little yard in front of the shed. A stable boy,\nspruce and smart in his holiday attire, met them with a broom in his\nhand, and followed them. In the shed there were five horses in their\nseparate stalls, and Vronsky knew that his chief rival, Gladiator, a\nvery tall chestnut horse, had been brought there, and must be standing\namong them. Even more than his mare, Vronsky longed to see Gladiator,\nwhom he had never seen. But he knew that by the etiquette of the race\ncourse it was not merely impossible for him to see the horse, but\nimproper even to ask questions about him. Just as he was passing along\nthe passage, the boy opened the door into the second horse-box on the\nleft, and Vronsky caught a glimpse of a big chestnut horse with white\nlegs. He knew that this was Gladiator, but, with the feeling of a man\nturning away from the sight of another man's open letter, he turned\nround and went into Frou-Frou's stall.\n\n\"The horse is here belonging to Mak... Mak... I never can say the name,\"\nsaid the Englishman, over his shoulder, pointing his big finger and\ndirty nail towards Gladiator's stall.\n\n\"Mahotin? Yes, he's my most serious rival,\" said Vronsky.\n\n\"If you were riding him,\" said the Englishman, \"I'd bet on you.\"\n\n\"Frou-Frou's more nervous; he's stronger,\" said Vronsky, smiling at the\ncompliment to his riding.\n\n\"In a steeplechase it all depends on riding and on pluck,\" said the\nEnglishman.\n\nOf pluck--that is, energy and courage--Vronsky did not merely feel that\nhe had enough; what was of far more importance, he was firmly convinced\nthat no one in the world could have more of this \"pluck\" than he had.\n\n\"Don't you think I want more thinning down?\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" answered the Englishman. \"Please, don't speak loud. The mare's\nfidgety,\" he added, nodding towards the horse-box, before which they\nwere standing, and from which came the sound of restless stamping in the\nstraw.\n\nHe opened the door, and Vronsky went into the horse-box, dimly lighted\nby one little window. In the horse-box stood a dark bay mare, with a\nmuzzle on, picking at the fresh straw with her hoofs. Looking round him\nin the twilight of the horse-box, Vronsky unconsciously took in once\nmore in a comprehensive glance all the points of his favorite mare.\nFrou-Frou was a beast of medium size, not altogether free from reproach,\nfrom a breeder's point of view. She was small-boned all over; though her\nchest was extremely prominent in front, it was narrow. Her hind-quarters\nwere a little drooping, and in her fore-legs, and still more in her\nhind-legs, there was a noticeable curvature. The muscles of both hind-\nand fore-legs were not very thick; but across her shoulders the mare was\nexceptionally broad, a peculiarity specially striking now that she was\nlean from training. The bones of her legs below the knees looked no\nthicker than a finger from in front, but were extraordinarily thick seen\nfrom the side. She looked altogether, except across the shoulders, as it\nwere, pinched in at the sides and pressed out in depth. But she had in\nthe highest degree the quality that makes all defects forgotten: that\nquality was _blood_, the blood _that tells_, as the English expression\nhas it. The muscles stood up sharply under the network of sinews,\ncovered with the delicate, mobile skin, soft as satin, and they were\nhard as bone. Her clean-cut head, with prominent, bright, spirited eyes,\nbroadened out at the open nostrils, that showed the red blood in the\ncartilage within. About all her figure, and especially her head, there\nwas a certain expression of energy, and, at the same time, of softness.\nShe was one of those creatures which seem only not to speak because the\nmechanism of their mouth does not allow them to.\n\nTo Vronsky, at any rate, it seemed that she understood all he felt at\nthat moment, looking at her.\n\nDirectly Vronsky went towards her, she drew in a deep breath, and,\nturning back her prominent eye till the white looked bloodshot, she\nstarted at the approaching figures from the opposite side, shaking her\nmuzzle, and shifting lightly from one leg to the other.\n\n\"There, you see how fidgety she is,\" said the Englishman.\n\n\"There, darling! There!\" said Vronsky, going up to the mare and speaking\nsoothingly to her.\n\nBut the nearer he came, the more excited she grew. Only when he stood by\nher head, she was suddenly quieter, while the muscles quivered under her\nsoft, delicate coat. Vronsky patted her strong neck, straightened over\nher sharp withers a stray lock of her mane that had fallen on the other\nside, and moved his face near her dilated nostrils, transparent as a\nbat's wing. She drew a loud breath and snorted out through her tense\nnostrils, started, pricked up her sharp ear, and put out her strong,\nblack lip towards Vronsky, as though she would nip hold of his sleeve.\nBut remembering the muzzle, she shook it and again began restlessly\nstamping one after the other her shapely legs.\n\n\"Quiet, darling, quiet!\" he said, patting her again over her\nhind-quarters; and with a glad sense that his mare was in the best\npossible condition, he went out of the horse-box.\n\nThe mare's excitement had infected Vronsky. He felt that his heart was\nthrobbing, and that he, too, like the mare, longed to move, to bite; it\nwas both dreadful and delicious.\n\n\"Well, I rely on you, then,\" he said to the Englishman; \"half-past six\non the ground.\"\n\n\"All right,\" said the Englishman. \"Oh, where are you going, my lord?\" he\nasked suddenly, using the title \"my lord,\" which he had scarcely ever\nused before.\n\nVronsky in amazement raised his head, and stared, as he knew how to\nstare, not into the Englishman's eyes, but at his forehead, astounded at\nthe impertinence of his question. But realizing that in asking this the\nEnglishman had been looking at him not as an employer, but as a jockey,\nhe answered:\n\n\"I've got to go to Bryansky's; I shall be home within an hour.\"\n\n\"How often I'm asked that question today!\" he said to himself, and he\nblushed, a thing which rarely happened to him. The Englishman looked\ngravely at him; and, as though he, too, knew where Vronsky was going, he\nadded:\n\n\"The great thing's to keep quiet before a race,\" said he; \"don't get out\nof temper or upset about anything.\"\n\n\"All right,\" answered Vronsky, smiling; and jumping into his carriage,\nhe told the man to drive to Peterhof.\n\nBefore he had driven many paces away, the dark clouds that had been\nthreatening rain all day broke, and there was a heavy downpour of rain.\n\n\"What a pity!\" thought Vronsky, putting up the roof of the carriage. \"It\nwas muddy before, now it will be a perfect swamp.\" As he sat in solitude\nin the closed carriage, he took out his mother's letter and his\nbrother's note, and read them through.\n\nYes, it was the same thing over and over again. Everyone, his mother,\nhis brother, everyone thought fit to interfere in the affairs of his\nheart. This interference aroused in him a feeling of angry hatred--a\nfeeling he had rarely known before. \"What business is it of theirs? Why\ndoes everybody feel called upon to concern himself about me? And why do\nthey worry me so? Just because they see that this is something they\ncan't understand. If it were a common, vulgar, worldly intrigue, they\nwould have left me alone. They feel that this is something different,\nthat this is not a mere pastime, that this woman is dearer to me than\nlife. And this is incomprehensible, and that's why it annoys them.\nWhatever our destiny is or may be, we have made it ourselves, and we do\nnot complain of it,\" he said, in the word _we_ linking himself with\nAnna. \"No, they must needs teach us how to live. They haven't an idea of\nwhat happiness is; they don't know that without our love, for us there\nis neither happiness nor unhappiness--no life at all,\" he thought.\n\nHe was angry with all of them for their interference just because he\nfelt in his soul that they, all these people, were right. He felt that\nthe love that bound him to Anna was not a momentary impulse, which would\npass, as worldly intrigues do pass, leaving no other traces in the life\nof either but pleasant or unpleasant memories. He felt all the torture\nof his own and her position, all the difficulty there was for them,\nconspicuous as they were in the eye of all the world, in concealing\ntheir love, in lying and deceiving; and in lying, deceiving, feigning,\nand continually thinking of others, when the passion that united them\nwas so intense that they were both oblivious of everything else but\ntheir love.\n\nHe vividly recalled all the constantly recurring instances of inevitable\nnecessity for lying and deceit, which were so against his natural bent.\nHe recalled particularly vividly the shame he had more than once\ndetected in her at this necessity for lying and deceit. And he\nexperienced the strange feeling that had sometimes come upon him since\nhis secret love for Anna. This was a feeling of loathing for\nsomething--whether for Alexey Alexandrovitch, or for himself, or for the\nwhole world, he could not have said. But he always drove away this\nstrange feeling. Now, too, he shook it off and continued the thread of\nhis thoughts.\n\n\"Yes, she was unhappy before, but proud and at peace; and now she cannot\nbe at peace and feel secure in her dignity, though she does not show it.\nYes, we must put an end to it,\" he decided.\n\nAnd for the first time the idea clearly presented itself that it was\nessential to put an end to this false position, and the sooner the\nbetter. \"Throw up everything, she and I, and hide ourselves somewhere\nalone with our love,\" he said to himself.\n\n\n\nChapter 22\n\n\nThe rain did not last long, and by the time Vronsky arrived, his\nshaft-horse trotting at full speed and dragging the trace-horses\ngalloping through the mud, with their reins hanging loose, the sun had\npeeped out again, the roofs of the summer villas and the old limetrees\nin the gardens on both sides of the principal streets sparkled with wet\nbrilliance, and from the twigs came a pleasant drip and from the roofs\nrushing streams of water. He thought no more of the shower spoiling the\nrace course, but was rejoicing now that--thanks to the rain--he would be\nsure to find her at home and alone, as he knew that Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, who had lately returned from a foreign watering place,\nhad not moved from Petersburg.\n\nHoping to find her alone, Vronsky alighted, as he always did, to avoid\nattracting attention, before crossing the bridge, and walked to the\nhouse. He did not go up the steps to the street door, but went into the\ncourt.\n\n\"Has your master come?\" he asked a gardener.\n\n\"No, sir. The mistress is at home. But will you please go to the front\ndoor; there are servants there,\" the gardener answered. \"They'll open\nthe door.\"\n\n\"No, I'll go in from the garden.\"\n\nAnd feeling satisfied that she was alone, and wanting to take her by\nsurprise, since he had not promised to be there today, and she would\ncertainly not expect him to come before the races, he walked, holding\nhis sword and stepping cautiously over the sandy path, bordered with\nflowers, to the terrace that looked out upon the garden. Vronsky forgot\nnow all that he had thought on the way of the hardships and difficulties\nof their position. He thought of nothing but that he would see her\ndirectly, not in imagination, but living, all of her, as she was in\nreality. He was just going in, stepping on his whole foot so as not to\ncreak, up the worn steps of the terrace, when he suddenly remembered\nwhat he always forgot, and what caused the most torturing side of his\nrelations with her, her son with his questioning--hostile, as he\nfancied--eyes.\n\nThis boy was more often than anyone else a check upon their freedom.\nWhen he was present, both Vronsky and Anna did not merely avoid speaking\nof anything that they could not have repeated before everyone; they did\nnot even allow themselves to refer by hints to anything the boy did not\nunderstand. They had made no agreement about this, it had settled\nitself. They would have felt it wounding themselves to deceive the\nchild. In his presence they talked like acquaintances. But in spite of\nthis caution, Vronsky often saw the child's intent, bewildered glance\nfixed upon him, and a strange shyness, uncertainty, at one time\nfriendliness, at another, coldness and reserve, in the boy's manner to\nhim; as though the child felt that between this man and his mother there\nexisted some important bond, the significance of which he could not\nunderstand.\n\nAs a fact, the boy did feel that he could not understand this relation,\nand he tried painfully, and was not able to make clear to himself what\nfeeling he ought to have for this man. With a child's keen instinct for\nevery manifestation of feeling, he saw distinctly that his father, his\ngoverness, his nurse,--all did not merely dislike Vronsky, but looked on\nhim with horror and aversion, though they never said anything about him,\nwhile his mother looked on him as her greatest friend.\n\n\"What does it mean? Who is he? How ought I to love him? If I don't know,\nit's my fault; either I'm stupid or a naughty boy,\" thought the child.\nAnd this was what caused his dubious, inquiring, sometimes hostile,\nexpression, and the shyness and uncertainty which Vronsky found so\nirksome. This child's presence always and infallibly called up in\nVronsky that strange feeling of inexplicable loathing which he had\nexperienced of late. This child's presence called up both in Vronsky and\nin Anna a feeling akin to the feeling of a sailor who sees by the\ncompass that the direction in which he is swiftly moving is far from the\nright one, but that to arrest his motion is not in his power, that every\ninstant is carrying him further and further away, and that to admit to\nhimself his deviation from the right direction is the same as admitting\nhis certain ruin.\n\nThis child, with his innocent outlook upon life, was the compass that\nshowed them the point to which they had departed from what they knew,\nbut did not want to know.\n\nThis time Seryozha was not at home, and she was completely alone. She\nwas sitting on the terrace waiting for the return of her son, who had\ngone out for his walk and been caught in the rain. She had sent a\nmanservant and a maid out to look for him. Dressed in a white gown,\ndeeply embroidered, she was sitting in a corner of the terrace behind\nsome flowers, and did not hear him. Bending her curly black head, she\npressed her forehead against a cool watering pot that stood on the\nparapet, and both her lovely hands, with the rings he knew so well,\nclasped the pot. The beauty of her whole figure, her head, her neck, her\nhands, struck Vronsky every time as something new and unexpected. He\nstood still, gazing at her in ecstasy. But, directly he would have made\na step to come nearer to her, she was aware of his presence, pushed away\nthe watering pot, and turned her flushed face towards him.\n\n\"What's the matter? You are ill?\" he said to her in French, going up to\nher. He would have run to her, but remembering that there might be\nspectators, he looked round towards the balcony door, and reddened a\nlittle, as he always reddened, feeling that he had to be afraid and be\non his guard.\n\n\"No, I'm quite well,\" she said, getting up and pressing his outstretched\nhand tightly. \"I did not expect ... thee.\"\n\n\"Mercy! what cold hands!\" he said.\n\n\"You startled me,\" she said. \"I'm alone, and expecting Seryozha; he's\nout for a walk; they'll come in from this side.\"\n\nBut, in spite of her efforts to be calm, her lips were quivering.\n\n\"Forgive me for coming, but I couldn't pass the day without seeing you,\"\nhe went on, speaking French, as he always did to avoid using the stiff\nRussian plural form, so impossibly frigid between them, and the\ndangerously intimate singular.\n\n\"Forgive you? I'm so glad!\"\n\n\"But you're ill or worried,\" he went on, not letting go her hands and\nbending over her. \"What were you thinking of?\"\n\n\"Always the same thing,\" she said, with a smile.\n\nShe spoke the truth. If ever at any moment she had been asked what she\nwas thinking of, she could have answered truly: of the same thing, of\nher happiness and her unhappiness. She was thinking, just when he came\nupon her, of this: why was it, she wondered, that to others, to Betsy\n(she knew of her secret connection with Tushkevitch) it was all easy,\nwhile to her it was such torture? Today this thought gained special\npoignancy from certain other considerations. She asked him about the\nraces. He answered her questions, and, seeing that she was agitated,\ntrying to calm her, he began telling her in the simplest tone the\ndetails of his preparations for the races.\n\n\"Tell him or not tell him?\" she thought, looking into his quiet,\naffectionate eyes. \"He is so happy, so absorbed in his races that he\nwon't understand as he ought, he won't understand all the gravity of\nthis fact to us.\"\n\n\"But you haven't told me what you were thinking of when I came in,\" he\nsaid, interrupting his narrative; \"please tell me!\"\n\nShe did not answer, and, bending her head a little, she looked\ninquiringly at him from under her brows, her eyes shining under their\nlong lashes. Her hand shook as it played with a leaf she had picked. He\nsaw it, and his face expressed that utter subjection, that slavish\ndevotion, which had done so much to win her.\n\n\"I see something has happened. Do you suppose I can be at peace, knowing\nyou have a trouble I am not sharing? Tell me, for God's sake,\" he\nrepeated imploringly.\n\n\"Yes, I shan't be able to forgive him if he does not realize all the\ngravity of it. Better not tell; why put him to the proof?\" she thought,\nstill staring at him in the same way, and feeling the hand that held the\nleaf was trembling more and more.\n\n\"For God's sake!\" he repeated, taking her hand.\n\n\"Shall I tell you?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, yes . . .\"\n\n\"I'm with child,\" she said, softly and deliberately. The leaf in her\nhand shook more violently, but she did not take her eyes off him,\nwatching how he would take it. He turned white, would have said\nsomething, but stopped; he dropped her hand, and his head sank on his\nbreast. \"Yes, he realizes all the gravity of it,\" she thought, and\ngratefully she pressed his hand.\n\nBut she was mistaken in thinking he realized the gravity of the fact as\nshe, a woman, realized it. On hearing it, he felt come upon him with\ntenfold intensity that strange feeling of loathing of someone. But at\nthe same time, he felt that the turning-point he had been longing for\nhad come now; that it was impossible to go on concealing things from her\nhusband, and it was inevitable in one way or another that they should\nsoon put an end to their unnatural position. But, besides that, her\nemotion physically affected him in the same way. He looked at her with a\nlook of submissive tenderness, kissed her hand, got up, and, in silence,\npaced up and down the terrace.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, going up to her resolutely. \"Neither you nor I have\nlooked on our relations as a passing amusement, and now our fate is\nsealed. It is absolutely necessary to put an end\"--he looked round as he\nspoke--\"to the deception in which we are living.\"\n\n\"Put an end? How put an end, Alexey?\" she said softly.\n\nShe was calmer now, and her face lighted up with a tender smile.\n\n\"Leave your husband and make our life one.\"\n\n\"It is one as it is,\" she answered, scarcely audibly.\n\n\"Yes, but altogether; altogether.\"\n\n\"But how, Alexey, tell me how?\" she said in melancholy mockery at the\nhopelessness of her own position. \"Is there any way out of such a\nposition? Am I not the wife of my husband?\"\n\n\"There is a way out of every position. We must take our line,\" he said.\n\"Anything's better than the position in which you're living. Of course,\nI see how you torture yourself over everything--the world and your son\nand your husband.\"\n\n\"Oh, not over my husband,\" she said, with a quiet smile. \"I don't know\nhim, I don't think of him. He doesn't exist.\"\n\n\"You're not speaking sincerely. I know you. You worry about him too.\"\n\n\"Oh, he doesn't even know,\" she said, and suddenly a hot flush came over\nher face; her cheeks, her brow, her neck crimsoned, and tears of shame\ncame into her eyes. \"But we won't talk of him.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 23\n\n\nVronsky had several times already, though not so resolutely as now,\ntried to bring her to consider their position, and every time he had\nbeen confronted by the same superficiality and triviality with which she\nmet his appeal now. It was as though there were something in this which\nshe could not or would not face, as though directly she began to speak\nof this, she, the real Anna, retreated somehow into herself, and another\nstrange and unaccountable woman came out, whom he did not love, and whom\nhe feared, and who was in opposition to him. But today he was resolved\nto have it out.\n\n\"Whether he knows or not,\" said Vronsky, in his usual quiet and resolute\ntone, \"that's nothing to do with us. We cannot ... you cannot stay like\nthis, especially now.\"\n\n\"What's to be done, according to you?\" she asked with the same frivolous\nirony. She who had so feared he would take her condition too lightly was\nnow vexed with him for deducing from it the necessity of taking some\nstep.\n\n\"Tell him everything, and leave him.\"\n\n\"Very well, let us suppose I do that,\" she said. \"Do you know what the\nresult of that would be? I can tell you it all beforehand,\" and a wicked\nlight gleamed in her eyes, that had been so soft a minute before. \"'Eh,\nyou love another man, and have entered into criminal intrigues with\nhim?'\" (Mimicking her husband, she threw an emphasis on the word\n\"criminal,\" as Alexey Alexandrovitch did.) \"'I warned you of the results\nin the religious, the civil, and the domestic relation. You have not\nlistened to me. Now I cannot let you disgrace my name,--'\" \"and my son,\"\nshe had meant to say, but about her son she could not jest,--\"'disgrace\nmy name, and'--and more in the same style,\" she added. \"In general\nterms, he'll say in his official manner, and with all distinctness and\nprecision, that he cannot let me go, but will take all measures in his\npower to prevent scandal. And he will calmly and punctually act in\naccordance with his words. That's what will happen. He's not a man, but\na machine, and a spiteful machine when he's angry,\" she added, recalling\nAlexey Alexandrovitch as she spoke, with all the peculiarities of his\nfigure and manner of speaking, and reckoning against him every defect\nshe could find in him, softening nothing for the great wrong she herself\nwas doing him.\n\n\"But, Anna,\" said Vronsky, in a soft and persuasive voice, trying to\nsoothe her, \"we absolutely must, anyway, tell him, and then be guided by\nthe line he takes.\"\n\n\"What, run away?\"\n\n\"And why not run away? I don't see how we can keep on like this. And not\nfor my sake--I see that you suffer.\"\n\n\"Yes, run away, and become your mistress,\" she said angrily.\n\n\"Anna,\" he said, with reproachful tenderness.\n\n\"Yes,\" she went on, \"become your mistress, and complete the ruin of...\"\n\nAgain she would have said \"my son,\" but she could not utter that word.\n\nVronsky could not understand how she, with her strong and truthful\nnature, could endure this state of deceit, and not long to get out of\nit. But he did not suspect that the chief cause of it was the\nword--_son_, which she could not bring herself to pronounce. When she\nthought of her son, and his future attitude to his mother, who had\nabandoned his father, she felt such terror at what she had done, that\nshe could not face it; but, like a woman, could only try to comfort\nherself with lying assurances that everything would remain as it always\nhad been, and that it was possible to forget the fearful question of how\nit would be with her son.\n\n\"I beg you, I entreat you,\" she said suddenly, taking his hand, and\nspeaking in quite a different tone, sincere and tender, \"never speak to\nme of that!\"\n\n\"But, Anna...\"\n\n\"Never. Leave it to me. I know all the baseness, all the horror of my\nposition; but it's not so easy to arrange as you think. And leave it to\nme, and do what I say. Never speak to me of it. Do you promise me?...\nNo, no, promise!...\"\n\n\"I promise everything, but I can't be at peace, especially after what\nyou have told me. I can't be at peace, when you can't be at peace....\"\n\n\"I?\" she repeated. \"Yes, I am worried sometimes; but that will pass, if\nyou will never talk about this. When you talk about it--it's only then\nit worries me.\"\n\n\"I don't understand,\" he said.\n\n\"I know,\" she interrupted him, \"how hard it is for your truthful nature\nto lie, and I grieve for you. I often think that you have ruined your\nwhole life for me.\"\n\n\"I was just thinking the very same thing,\" he said; \"how could you\nsacrifice everything for my sake? I can't forgive myself that you're\nunhappy!\"\n\n\"I unhappy?\" she said, coming closer to him, and looking at him with an\necstatic smile of love. \"I am like a hungry man who has been given food.\nHe may be cold, and dressed in rags, and ashamed, but he is not unhappy.\nI unhappy? No, this is my unhappiness....\"\n\nShe could hear the sound of her son's voice coming towards them, and\nglancing swiftly round the terrace, she got up impulsively. Her eyes\nglowed with the fire he knew so well; with a rapid movement she raised\nher lovely hands, covered with rings, took his head, looked a long look\ninto his face, and, putting up her face with smiling, parted lips,\nswiftly kissed his mouth and both eyes, and pushed him away. She would\nhave gone, but he held her back.\n\n\"When?\" he murmured in a whisper, gazing in ecstasy at her.\n\n\"Tonight, at one o'clock,\" she whispered, and, with a heavy sigh, she\nwalked with her light, swift step to meet her son.\n\nSeryozha had been caught by the rain in the big garden, and he and his\nnurse had taken shelter in an arbor.\n\n\"Well, _au revoir_,\" she said to Vronsky. \"I must soon be getting ready\nfor the races. Betsy promised to fetch me.\"\n\nVronsky, looking at his watch, went away hurriedly.\n\n\n\nChapter 24\n\n\nWhen Vronsky looked at his watch on the Karenins' balcony, he was so\ngreatly agitated and lost in his thoughts that he saw the figures on the\nwatch's face, but could not take in what time it was. He came out on to\nthe high road and walked, picking his way carefully through the mud, to\nhis carriage. He was so completely absorbed in his feeling for Anna,\nthat he did not even think what o'clock it was, and whether he had time\nto go to Bryansky's. He had left him, as often happens, only the\nexternal faculty of memory, that points out each step one has to take,\none after the other. He went up to his coachman, who was dozing on the\nbox in the shadow, already lengthening, of a thick limetree; he admired\nthe shifting clouds of midges circling over the hot horses, and, waking\nthe coachman, he jumped into the carriage, and told him to drive to\nBryansky's. It was only after driving nearly five miles that he had\nsufficiently recovered himself to look at his watch, and realize that it\nwas half-past five, and he was late.\n\nThere were several races fixed for that day: the Mounted Guards' race,\nthen the officers' mile-and-a-half race, then the three-mile race, and\nthen the race for which he was entered. He could still be in time for\nhis race, but if he went to Bryansky's he could only just be in time,\nand he would arrive when the whole of the court would be in their\nplaces. That would be a pity. But he had promised Bryansky to come, and\nso he decided to drive on, telling the coachman not to spare the horses.\n\nHe reached Bryansky's, spent five minutes there, and galloped back. This\nrapid drive calmed him. All that was painful in his relations with Anna,\nall the feeling of indefiniteness left by their conversation, had\nslipped out of his mind. He was thinking now with pleasure and\nexcitement of the race, of his being anyhow, in time, and now and then\nthe thought of the blissful interview awaiting him that night flashed\nacross his imagination like a flaming light.\n\nThe excitement of the approaching race gained upon him as he drove\nfurther and further into the atmosphere of the races, overtaking\ncarriages driving up from the summer villas or out of Petersburg.\n\nAt his quarters no one was left at home; all were at the races, and his\nvalet was looking out for him at the gate. While he was changing his\nclothes, his valet told him that the second race had begun already, that\na lot of gentlemen had been to ask for him, and a boy had twice run up\nfrom the stables. Dressing without hurry (he never hurried himself, and\nnever lost his self-possession), Vronsky drove to the sheds. From the\nsheds he could see a perfect sea of carriages, and people on foot,\nsoldiers surrounding the race course, and pavilions swarming with\npeople. The second race was apparently going on, for just as he went\ninto the sheds he heard a bell ringing. Going towards the stable, he met\nthe white-legged chestnut, Mahotin's Gladiator, being led to the\nrace-course in a blue forage horsecloth, with what looked like huge ears\nedged with blue.\n\n\"Where's Cord?\" he asked the stable-boy.\n\n\"In the stable, putting on the saddle.\"\n\nIn the open horse-box stood Frou-Frou, saddled ready. They were just\ngoing to lead her out.\n\n\"I'm not too late?\"\n\n\"All right! All right!\" said the Englishman; \"don't upset yourself!\"\n\nVronsky once more took in in one glance the exquisite lines of his\nfavorite mare; who was quivering all over, and with an effort he tore\nhimself from the sight of her, and went out of the stable. He went\ntowards the pavilions at the most favorable moment for escaping\nattention. The mile-and-a-half race was just finishing, and all eyes\nwere fixed on the horse-guard in front and the light hussar behind,\nurging their horses on with a last effort close to the winning post.\nFrom the center and outside of the ring all were crowding to the winning\npost, and a group of soldiers and officers of the horse-guards were\nshouting loudly their delight at the expected triumph of their officer\nand comrade. Vronsky moved into the middle of the crowd unnoticed,\nalmost at the very moment when the bell rang at the finish of the race,\nand the tall, mudspattered horse-guard who came in first, bending over\nthe saddle, let go the reins of his panting gray horse that looked dark\nwith sweat.\n\nThe horse, stiffening out its legs, with an effort stopped its rapid\ncourse, and the officer of the horse-guards looked round him like a man\nwaking up from a heavy sleep, and just managed to smile. A crowd of\nfriends and outsiders pressed round him.\n\nVronsky intentionally avoided that select crowd of the upper world,\nwhich was moving and talking with discreet freedom before the pavilions.\nHe knew that Madame Karenina was there, and Betsy, and his brother's\nwife, and he purposely did not go near them for fear of something\ndistracting his attention. But he was continually met and stopped by\nacquaintances, who told him about the previous races, and kept asking\nhim why he was so late.\n\nAt the time when the racers had to go to the pavilion to receive the\nprizes, and all attention was directed to that point, Vronsky's elder\nbrother, Alexander, a colonel with heavy fringed epaulets, came up to\nhim. He was not tall, though as broadly built as Alexey, and handsomer\nand rosier than he; he had a red nose, and an open, drunken-looking\nface.\n\n\"Did you get my note?\" he said. \"There's never any finding you.\"\n\nAlexander Vronsky, in spite of the dissolute life, and in especial the\ndrunken habits, for which he was notorious, was quite one of the court\ncircle.\n\nNow, as he talked to his brother of a matter bound to be exceedingly\ndisagreeable to him, knowing that the eyes of many people might be fixed\nupon him, he kept a smiling countenance, as though he were jesting with\nhis brother about something of little moment.\n\n\"I got it, and I really can't make out what _you_ are worrying yourself\nabout,\" said Alexey.\n\n\"I'm worrying myself because the remark has just been made to me that\nyou weren't here, and that you were seen in Peterhof on Monday.\"\n\n\"There are matters which only concern those directly interested in them,\nand the matter you are so worried about is...\"\n\n\"Yes, but if so, you may as well cut the service....\"\n\n\"I beg you not to meddle, and that's all I have to say.\"\n\nAlexey Vronsky's frowning face turned white, and his prominent lower jaw\nquivered, which happened rarely with him. Being a man of very warm\nheart, he was seldom angry; but when he was angry, and when his chin\nquivered, then, as Alexander Vronsky knew, he was dangerous. Alexander\nVronsky smiled gaily.\n\n\"I only wanted to give you Mother's letter. Answer it, and don't worry\nabout anything just before the race. _Bonne chance,_\" he added, smiling\nand he moved away from him. But after him another friendly greeting\nbrought Vronsky to a standstill.\n\n\"So you won't recognize your friends! How are you, _mon cher?_\" said\nStepan Arkadyevitch, as conspicuously brilliant in the midst of all the\nPetersburg brilliance as he was in Moscow, his face rosy, and his\nwhiskers sleek and glossy. \"I came up yesterday, and I'm delighted that\nI shall see your triumph. When shall we meet?\"\n\n\"Come tomorrow to the messroom,\" said Vronsky, and squeezing him by the\nsleeve of his coat, with apologies, he moved away to the center of the\nrace course, where the horses were being led for the great steeplechase.\n\nThe horses who had run in the last race were being led home, steaming\nand exhausted, by the stable-boys, and one after another the fresh\nhorses for the coming race made their appearance, for the most part\nEnglish racers, wearing horsecloths, and looking with their drawn-up\nbellies like strange, huge birds. On the right was led in Frou-Frou,\nlean and beautiful, lifting up her elastic, rather long pasterns, as\nthough moved by springs. Not far from her they were taking the rug off\nthe lop-eared Gladiator. The strong, exquisite, perfectly correct lines\nof the stallion, with his superb hind-quarters and excessively short\npasterns almost over his hoofs, attracted Vronsky's attention in spite\nof himself. He would have gone up to his mare, but he was again detained\nby an acquaintance.\n\n\"Oh, there's Karenin!\" said the acquaintance with whom he was chatting.\n\"He's looking for his wife, and she's in the middle of the pavilion.\nDidn't you see her?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Vronsky, and without even glancing round towards the\npavilion where his friend was pointing out Madame Karenina, he went up\nto his mare.\n\nVronsky had not had time to look at the saddle, about which he had to\ngive some direction, when the competitors were summoned to the pavilion\nto receive their numbers and places in the row at starting. Seventeen\nofficers, looking serious and severe, many with pale faces, met together\nin the pavilion and drew the numbers. Vronsky drew the number seven. The\ncry was heard: \"Mount!\"\n\nFeeling that with the others riding in the race, he was the center upon\nwhich all eyes were fastened, Vronsky walked up to his mare in that\nstate of nervous tension in which he usually became deliberate and\ncomposed in his movements. Cord, in honor of the races, had put on his\nbest clothes, a black coat buttoned up, a stiffly starched collar, which\npropped up his cheeks, a round black hat, and top boots. He was calm and\ndignified as ever, and was with his own hands holding Frou-Frou by both\nreins, standing straight in front of her. Frou-Frou was still trembling\nas though in a fever. Her eye, full of fire, glanced sideways at\nVronsky. Vronsky slipped his finger under the saddle-girth. The mare\nglanced aslant at him, drew up her lip, and twitched her ear. The\nEnglishman puckered up his lips, intending to indicate a smile that\nanyone should verify his saddling.\n\n\"Get up; you won't feel so excited.\"\n\nVronsky looked round for the last time at his rivals. He knew that he\nwould not see them during the race. Two were already riding forward to\nthe point from which they were to start. Galtsin, a friend of Vronsky's\nand one of his more formidable rivals, was moving round a bay horse that\nwould not let him mount. A little light hussar in tight riding breeches\nrode off at a gallop, crouched up like a cat on the saddle, in imitation\nof English jockeys. Prince Kuzovlev sat with a white face on his\nthoroughbred mare from the Grabovsky stud, while an English groom led\nher by the bridle. Vronsky and all his comrades knew Kuzovlev and his\npeculiarity of \"weak nerves\" and terrible vanity. They knew that he was\nafraid of everything, afraid of riding a spirited horse. But now, just\nbecause it was terrible, because people broke their necks, and there was\na doctor standing at each obstacle, and an ambulance with a cross on it,\nand a sister of mercy, he had made up his mind to take part in the race.\nTheir eyes met, and Vronsky gave him a friendly and encouraging nod.\nOnly one he did not see, his chief rival, Mahotin on Gladiator.\n\n\"Don't be in a hurry,\" said Cord to Vronsky, \"and remember one thing:\ndon't hold her in at the fences, and don't urge her on; let her go as\nshe likes.\"\n\n\"All right, all right,\" said Vronsky, taking the reins.\n\n\"If you can, lead the race; but don't lose heart till the last minute,\neven if you're behind.\"\n\nBefore the mare had time to move, Vronsky stepped with an agile,\nvigorous movement into the steel-toothed stirrup, and lightly and firmly\nseated himself on the creaking leather of the saddle. Getting his right\nfoot in the stirrup, he smoothed the double reins, as he always did,\nbetween his fingers, and Cord let go.\n\nAs though she did not know which foot to put first, Frou-Frou started,\ndragging at the reins with her long neck, and as though she were on\nsprings, shaking her rider from side to side. Cord quickened his step,\nfollowing him. The excited mare, trying to shake off her rider first on\none side and then the other, pulled at the reins, and Vronsky tried in\nvain with voice and hand to soothe her.\n\nThey were just reaching the dammed-up stream on their way to the\nstarting point. Several of the riders were in front and several behind,\nwhen suddenly Vronsky heard the sound of a horse galloping in the mud\nbehind him, and he was overtaken by Mahotin on his white-legged,\nlop-eared Gladiator. Mahotin smiled, showing his long teeth, but Vronsky\nlooked angrily at him. He did not like him, and regarded him now as his\nmost formidable rival. He was angry with him for galloping past and\nexciting his mare. Frou-Frou started into a gallop, her left foot\nforward, made two bounds, and fretting at the tightened reins, passed\ninto a jolting trot, bumping her rider up and down. Cord, too, scowled,\nand followed Vronsky almost at a trot.\n\n\n\nChapter 25\n\n\nThere were seventeen officers in all riding in this race. The race\ncourse was a large three-mile ring of the form of an ellipse in front of\nthe pavilion. On this course nine obstacles had been arranged: the\nstream, a big and solid barrier five feet high, just before the\npavilion, a dry ditch, a ditch full of water, a precipitous slope, an\nIrish barricade (one of the most difficult obstacles, consisting of a\nmound fenced with brushwood, beyond which was a ditch out of sight for\nthe horses, so that the horse had to clear both obstacles or might be\nkilled); then two more ditches filled with water, and one dry one; and\nthe end of the race was just facing the pavilion. But the race began not\nin the ring, but two hundred yards away from it, and in that part of the\ncourse was the first obstacle, a dammed-up stream, seven feet in\nbreadth, which the racers could leap or wade through as they preferred.\n\nThree times they were ranged ready to start, but each time some horse\nthrust itself out of line, and they had to begin again. The umpire who\nwas starting them, Colonel Sestrin, was beginning to lose his temper,\nwhen at last for the fourth time he shouted \"Away!\" and the racers\nstarted.\n\nEvery eye, every opera glass, was turned on the brightly colored group\nof riders at the moment they were in line to start.\n\n\"They're off! They're starting!\" was heard on all sides after the hush\nof expectation.\n\nAnd little groups and solitary figures among the public began running\nfrom place to place to get a better view. In the very first minute the\nclose group of horsemen drew out, and it could be seen that they were\napproaching the stream in twos and threes and one behind another. To the\nspectators it seemed as though they had all started simultaneously, but\nto the racers there were seconds of difference that had great value to\nthem.\n\nFrou-Frou, excited and over-nervous, had lost the first moment, and\nseveral horses had started before her, but before reaching the stream,\nVronsky, who was holding in the mare with all his force as she tugged at\nthe bridle, easily overtook three, and there were left in front of him\nMahotin's chestnut Gladiator, whose hind-quarters were moving lightly\nand rhythmically up and down exactly in front of Vronsky, and in front\nof all, the dainty mare Diana bearing Kuzovlev more dead than alive.\n\nFor the first instant Vronsky was not master either of himself or his\nmare. Up to the first obstacle, the stream, he could not guide the\nmotions of his mare.\n\nGladiator and Diana came up to it together and almost at the same\ninstant; simultaneously they rose above the stream and flew across to\nthe other side; Frou-Frou darted after them, as if flying; but at the\nvery moment when Vronsky felt himself in the air, he suddenly saw almost\nunder his mare's hoofs Kuzovlev, who was floundering with Diana on the\nfurther side of the stream. (Kuzovlev had let go the reins as he took\nthe leap, and the mare had sent him flying over her head.) Those details\nVronsky learned later; at the moment all he saw was that just under him,\nwhere Frou-Frou must alight, Diana's legs or head might be in the way.\nBut Frou-Frou drew up her legs and back in the very act of leaping, like\na falling cat, and, clearing the other mare, alighted beyond her.\n\n\"O the darling!\" thought Vronsky.\n\nAfter crossing the stream Vronsky had complete control of his mare, and\nbegan holding her in, intending to cross the great barrier behind\nMahotin, and to try to overtake him in the clear ground of about five\nhundred yards that followed it.\n\nThe great barrier stood just in front of the imperial pavilion. The Tsar\nand the whole court and crowds of people were all gazing at them--at\nhim, and Mahotin a length ahead of him, as they drew near the \"devil,\"\nas the solid barrier was called. Vronsky was aware of those eyes\nfastened upon him from all sides, but he saw nothing except the ears and\nneck of his own mare, the ground racing to meet him, and the back and\nwhite legs of Gladiator beating time swiftly before him, and keeping\nalways the same distance ahead. Gladiator rose, with no sound of\nknocking against anything. With a wave of his short tail he disappeared\nfrom Vronsky's sight.\n\n\"Bravo!\" cried a voice.\n\nAt the same instant, under Vronsky's eyes, right before him flashed the\npalings of the barrier. Without the slightest change in her action his\nmare flew over it; the palings vanished, and he heard only a crash\nbehind him. The mare, excited by Gladiator's keeping ahead, had risen\ntoo soon before the barrier, and grazed it with her hind hoofs. But her\npace never changed, and Vronsky, feeling a spatter of mud in his face,\nrealized that he was once more the same distance from Gladiator. Once\nmore he perceived in front of him the same back and short tail, and\nagain the same swiftly moving white legs that got no further away.\n\nAt the very moment when Vronsky thought that now was the time to\novertake Mahotin, Frou-Frou herself, understanding his thoughts, without\nany incitement on his part, gained ground considerably, and began\ngetting alongside of Mahotin on the most favorable side, close to the\ninner cord. Mahotin would not let her pass that side. Vronsky had hardly\nformed the thought that he could perhaps pass on the outer side, when\nFrou-Frou shifted her pace and began overtaking him on the other side.\nFrou-Frou's shoulder, beginning by now to be dark with sweat, was even\nwith Gladiator's back. For a few lengths they moved evenly. But before\nthe obstacle they were approaching, Vronsky began working at the reins,\nanxious to avoid having to take the outer circle, and swiftly passed\nMahotin just upon the declivity. He caught a glimpse of his mud-stained\nface as he flashed by. He even fancied that he smiled. Vronsky passed\nMahotin, but he was immediately aware of him close upon him, and he\nnever ceased hearing the even-thudding hoofs and the rapid and still\nquite fresh breathing of Gladiator.\n\nThe next two obstacles, the water course and the barrier, were easily\ncrossed, but Vronsky began to hear the snorting and thud of Gladiator\ncloser upon him. He urged on his mare, and to his delight felt that she\neasily quickened her pace, and the thud of Gladiator's hoofs was again\nheard at the same distance away.\n\nVronsky was at the head of the race, just as he wanted to be and as Cord\nhad advised, and now he felt sure of being the winner. His excitement,\nhis delight, and his tenderness for Frou-Frou grew keener and keener. He\nlonged to look round again, but he did not dare do this, and tried to be\ncool and not to urge on his mare so to keep the same reserve of force in\nher as he felt that Gladiator still kept. There remained only one\nobstacle, the most difficult; if he could cross it ahead of the others\nhe would come in first. He was flying towards the Irish barricade,\nFrou-Frou and he both together saw the barricade in the distance, and\nboth the man and the mare had a moment's hesitation. He saw the\nuncertainty in the mare's ears and lifted the whip, but at the same time\nfelt that his fears were groundless; the mare knew what was wanted. She\nquickened her pace and rose smoothly, just as he had fancied she would,\nand as she left the ground gave herself up to the force of her rush,\nwhich carried her far beyond the ditch; and with the same rhythm,\nwithout effort, with the same leg forward, Frou-Frou fell back into her\npace again.\n\n\"Bravo, Vronsky!\" he heard shouts from a knot of men--he knew they were\nhis friends in the regiment--who were standing at the obstacle. He could\nnot fail to recognize Yashvin's voice though he did not see him.\n\n\"O my sweet!\" he said inwardly to Frou-Frou, as he listened for what was\nhappening behind. \"He's cleared it!\" he thought, catching the thud of\nGladiator's hoofs behind him. There remained only the last ditch, filled\nwith water and five feet wide. Vronsky did not even look at it, but\nanxious to get in a long way first began sawing away at the reins,\nlifting the mare's head and letting it go in time with her paces. He\nfelt that the mare was at her very last reserve of strength; not her\nneck and shoulders merely were wet, but the sweat was standing in drops\non her mane, her head, her sharp ears, and her breath came in short,\nsharp gasps. But he knew that she had strength left more than enough for\nthe remaining five hundred yards. It was only from feeling himself\nnearer the ground and from the peculiar smoothness of his motion that\nVronsky knew how greatly the mare had quickened her pace. She flew over\nthe ditch as though not noticing it. She flew over it like a bird; but\nat the same instant Vronsky, to his horror, felt that he had failed to\nkeep up with the mare's pace, that he had, he did not know how, made a\nfearful, unpardonable mistake, in recovering his seat in the saddle. All\nat once his position had shifted and he knew that something awful had\nhappened. He could not yet make out what had happened, when the white\nlegs of a chestnut horse flashed by close to him, and Mahotin passed at\na swift gallop. Vronsky was touching the ground with one foot, and his\nmare was sinking on that foot. He just had time to free his leg when she\nfell on one side, gasping painfully, and, making vain efforts to rise\nwith her delicate, soaking neck, she fluttered on the ground at his feet\nlike a shot bird. The clumsy movement made by Vronsky had broken her\nback. But that he only knew much later. At that moment he knew only that\nMahotin had flown swiftly by, while he stood staggering alone on the\nmuddy, motionless ground, and Frou-Frou lay gasping before him, bending\nher head back and gazing at him with her exquisite eyes. Still unable to\nrealize what had happened, Vronsky tugged at his mare's reins. Again she\nstruggled all over like a fish, and her shoulders setting the saddle\nheaving, she rose on her front legs but unable to lift her back, she\nquivered all over and again fell on her side. With a face hideous with\npassion, his lower jaw trembling, and his cheeks white, Vronsky kicked\nher with his heel in the stomach and again fell to tugging at the rein.\nShe did not stir, but thrusting her nose into the ground, she simply\ngazed at her master with her speaking eyes.\n\n\"A--a--a!\" groaned Vronsky, clutching at his head. \"Ah! what have I\ndone!\" he cried. \"The race lost! And my fault! shameful, unpardonable!\nAnd the poor darling, ruined mare! Ah! what have I done!\"\n\nA crowd of men, a doctor and his assistant, the officers of his\nregiment, ran up to him. To his misery he felt that he was whole and\nunhurt. The mare had broken her back, and it was decided to shoot her.\nVronsky could not answer questions, could not speak to anyone. He\nturned, and without picking up his cap that had fallen off, walked away\nfrom the race course, not knowing where he was going. He felt utterly\nwretched. For the first time in his life he knew the bitterest sort of\nmisfortune, misfortune beyond remedy, and caused by his own fault.\n\nYashvin overtook him with his cap, and led him home, and half an hour\nlater Vronsky had regained his self-possession. But the memory of that\nrace remained for long in his heart, the cruelest and bitterest memory\nof his life.\n\n\n\nChapter 26\n\n\nThe external relations of Alexey Alexandrovitch and his wife had\nremained unchanged. The sole difference lay in the fact that he was more\nbusily occupied than ever. As in former years, at the beginning of the\nspring he had gone to a foreign watering-place for the sake of his\nhealth, deranged by the winter's work that every year grew heavier. And\njust as always he returned in July and at once fell to work as usual\nwith increased energy. As usual, too, his wife had moved for the summer\nto a villa out of town, while he remained in Petersburg. From the date\nof their conversation after the party at Princess Tverskaya's he had\nnever spoken again to Anna of his suspicions and his jealousies, and\nthat habitual tone of his bantering mimicry was the most convenient tone\npossible for his present attitude to his wife. He was a little colder to\nhis wife. He simply seemed to be slightly displeased with her for that\nfirst midnight conversation, which she had repelled. In his attitude to\nher there was a shade of vexation, but nothing more. \"You would not be\nopen with me,\" he seemed to say, mentally addressing her; \"so much the\nworse for you. Now you may beg as you please, but I won't be open with\nyou. So much the worse for you!\" he said mentally, like a man who, after\nvainly attempting to extinguish a fire, should fly in a rage with his\nvain efforts and say, \"Oh, very well then! you shall burn for this!\"\nThis man, so subtle and astute in official life, did not realize all the\nsenselessness of such an attitude to his wife. He did not realize it,\nbecause it was too terrible to him to realize his actual position, and\nhe shut down and locked and sealed up in his heart that secret place\nwhere lay hid his feelings towards his family, that is, his wife and\nson. He who had been such a careful father, had from the end of that\nwinter become peculiarly frigid to his son, and adopted to him just the\nsame bantering tone he used with his wife. \"Aha, young man!\" was the\ngreeting with which he met him.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch asserted and believed that he had never in any\nprevious year had so much official business as that year. But he was not\naware that he sought work for himself that year, that this was one of\nthe means for keeping shut that secret place where lay hid his feelings\ntowards his wife and son and his thoughts about them, which became more\nterrible the longer they lay there. If anyone had had the right to ask\nAlexey Alexandrovitch what he thought of his wife's behavior, the mild\nand peaceable Alexey Alexandrovitch would have made no answer, but he\nwould have been greatly angered with any man who should question him on\nthat subject. For this reason there positively came into Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's face a look of haughtiness and severity whenever anyone\ninquired after his wife's health. Alexey Alexandrovitch did not want to\nthink at all about his wife's behavior, and he actually succeeded in not\nthinking about it at all.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch's permanent summer villa was in Peterhof, and the\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna used as a rule to spend the summer there, close\nto Anna, and constantly seeing her. That year Countess Lidia Ivanovna\ndeclined to settle in Peterhof, was not once at Anna Arkadyevna's, and\nin conversation with Alexey Alexandrovitch hinted at the unsuitability\nof Anna's close intimacy with Betsy and Vronsky. Alexey Alexandrovitch\nsternly cut her short, roundly declaring his wife to be above suspicion,\nand from that time began to avoid Countess Lidia Ivanovna. He did not\nwant to see, and did not see, that many people in society cast dubious\nglances on his wife; he did not want to understand, and did not\nunderstand, why his wife had so particularly insisted on staying at\nTsarskoe, where Betsy was staying, and not far from the camp of\nVronsky's regiment. He did not allow himself to think about it, and he\ndid not think about it; but all the same though he never admitted it to\nhimself, and had no proofs, not even suspicious evidence, in the bottom\nof his heart he knew beyond all doubt that he was a deceived husband,\nand he was profoundly miserable about it.\n\nHow often during those eight years of happy life with his wife Alexey\nAlexandrovitch had looked at other men's faithless wives and other\ndeceived husbands and asked himself: \"How can people descend to that?\nhow is it they don't put an end to such a hideous position?\" But now,\nwhen the misfortune had come upon himself, he was so far from thinking\nof putting an end to the position that he would not recognize it at all,\nwould not recognize it just because it was too awful, too unnatural.\n\nSince his return from abroad Alexey Alexandrovitch had twice been at\ntheir country villa. Once he dined there, another time he spent the\nevening there with a party of friends, but he had not once stayed the\nnight there, as it had been his habit to do in previous years.\n\nThe day of the races had been a very busy day for Alexey Alexandrovitch;\nbut when mentally sketching out the day in the morning, he made up his\nmind to go to their country house to see his wife immediately after\ndinner, and from there to the races, which all the Court were to\nwitness, and at which he was bound to be present. He was going to see\nhis wife, because he had determined to see her once a week to keep up\nappearances. And besides, on that day, as it was the fifteenth, he had\nto give his wife some money for her expenses, according to their usual\narrangement.\n\nWith his habitual control over his thoughts, though he thought all this\nabout his wife, he did not let his thoughts stray further in regard to\nher.\n\nThat morning was a very full one for Alexey Alexandrovitch. The evening\nbefore, Countess Lidia Ivanovna had sent him a pamphlet by a celebrated\ntraveler in China, who was staying in Petersburg, and with it she\nenclosed a note begging him to see the traveler himself, as he was an\nextremely interesting person from various points of view, and likely to\nbe useful. Alexey Alexandrovitch had not had time to read the pamphlet\nthrough in the evening, and finished it in the morning. Then people\nbegan arriving with petitions, and there came the reports, interviews,\nappointments, dismissals, apportionment of rewards, pensions, grants,\nnotes, the workaday round, as Alexey Alexandrovitch called it, that\nalways took up so much time. Then there was private business of his own,\na visit from the doctor and the steward who managed his property. The\nsteward did not take up much time. He simply gave Alexey Alexandrovitch\nthe money he needed together with a brief statement of the position of\nhis affairs, which was not altogether satisfactory, as it had happened\nthat during that year, owing to increased expenses, more had been paid\nout than usual, and there was a deficit. But the doctor, a celebrated\nPetersburg doctor, who was an intimate acquaintance of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, took up a great deal of time. Alexey Alexandrovitch had\nnot expected him that day, and was surprised at his visit, and still\nmore so when the doctor questioned him very carefully about his health,\nlistened to his breathing, and tapped at his liver. Alexey\nAlexandrovitch did not know that his friend Lidia Ivanovna, noticing\nthat he was not as well as usual that year, had begged the doctor to go\nand examine him. \"Do this for my sake,\" the Countess Lidia Ivanovna had\nsaid to him.\n\n\"I will do it for the sake of Russia, countess,\" replied the doctor.\n\n\"A priceless man!\" said the Countess Lidia Ivanovna.\n\nThe doctor was extremely dissatisfied with Alexey Alexandrovitch. He\nfound the liver considerably enlarged, and the digestive powers\nweakened, while the course of mineral waters had been quite without\neffect. He prescribed more physical exercise as far as possible, and as\nfar as possible less mental strain, and above all no worry--in other\nwords, just what was as much out of Alexey Alexandrovitch's power as\nabstaining from breathing. Then he withdrew, leaving in Alexey\nAlexandrovitch an unpleasant sense that something was wrong with him,\nand that there was no chance of curing it.\n\nAs he was coming away, the doctor chanced to meet on the staircase an\nacquaintance of his, Sludin, who was secretary of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's department. They had been comrades at the university,\nand though they rarely met, they thought highly of each other and were\nexcellent friends, and so there was no one to whom the doctor would have\ngiven his opinion of a patient so freely as to Sludin.\n\n\"How glad I am you've been seeing him!\" said Sludin. \"He's not well, and\nI fancy.... Well, what do you think of him?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you,\" said the doctor, beckoning over Sludin's head to his\ncoachman to bring the carriage round. \"It's just this,\" said the doctor,\ntaking a finger of his kid glove in his white hands and pulling it, \"if\nyou don't strain the strings, and then try to break them, you'll find it\na difficult job; but strain a string to its very utmost, and the mere\nweight of one finger on the strained string will snap it. And with his\nclose assiduity, his conscientious devotion to his work, he's strained\nto the utmost; and there's some outside burden weighing on him, and not\na light one,\" concluded the doctor, raising his eyebrows significantly.\n\"Will you be at the races?\" he added, as he sank into his seat in the\ncarriage.\n\n\"Yes, yes, to be sure; it does waste a lot of time,\" the doctor\nresponded vaguely to some reply of Sludin's he had not caught.\n\nDirectly after the doctor, who had taken up so much time, came the\ncelebrated traveler, and Alexey Alexandrovitch, by means of the pamphlet\nhe had only just finished reading and his previous acquaintance with the\nsubject, impressed the traveler by the depth of his knowledge of the\nsubject and the breadth and enlightenment of his view of it.\n\nAt the same time as the traveler there was announced a provincial\nmarshal of nobility on a visit to Petersburg, with whom Alexey\nAlexandrovitch had to have some conversation. After his departure, he\nhad to finish the daily routine of business with his secretary, and then\nhe still had to drive round to call on a certain great personage on a\nmatter of grave and serious import. Alexey Alexandrovitch only just\nmanaged to be back by five o'clock, his dinner-hour, and after dining\nwith his secretary, he invited him to drive with him to his country\nvilla and to the races.\n\nThough he did not acknowledge it to himself, Alexey Alexandrovitch\nalways tried nowadays to secure the presence of a third person in his\ninterviews with his wife.\n\n\n\nChapter 27\n\n\nAnna was upstairs, standing before the looking glass, and, with\nAnnushka's assistance, pinning the last ribbon on her gown when she\nheard carriage wheels crunching the gravel at the entrance.\n\n\"It's too early for Betsy,\" she thought, and glancing out of the window\nshe caught sight of the carriage and the black hat of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, and the ears that she knew so well sticking up each side\nof it. \"How unlucky! Can he be going to stay the night?\" she wondered,\nand the thought of all that might come of such a chance struck her as so\nawful and terrible that, without dwelling on it for a moment, she went\ndown to meet him with a bright and radiant face; and conscious of the\npresence of that spirit of falsehood and deceit in herself that she had\ncome to know of late, she abandoned herself to that spirit and began\ntalking, hardly knowing what she was saying.\n\n\"Ah, how nice of you!\" she said, giving her husband her hand, and\ngreeting Sludin, who was like one of the family, with a smile. \"You're\nstaying the night, I hope?\" was the first word the spirit of falsehood\nprompted her to utter; \"and now we'll go together. Only it's a pity I've\npromised Betsy. She's coming for me.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch knit his brows at Betsy's name.\n\n\"Oh, I'm not going to separate the inseparables,\" he said in his usual\nbantering tone. \"I'm going with Mihail Vassilievitch. I'm ordered\nexercise by the doctors too. I'll walk, and fancy myself at the springs\nagain.\"\n\n\"There's no hurry,\" said Anna. \"Would you like tea?\"\n\nShe rang.\n\n\"Bring in tea, and tell Seryozha that Alexey Alexandrovitch is here.\nWell, tell me, how have you been? Mihail Vassilievitch, you've not been\nto see me before. Look how lovely it is out on the terrace,\" she said,\nturning first to one and then to the other.\n\nShe spoke very simply and naturally, but too much and too fast. She was\nthe more aware of this from noticing in the inquisitive look Mihail\nVassilievitch turned on her that he was, as it were, keeping watch on\nher.\n\nMihail Vassilievitch promptly went out on the terrace.\n\nShe sat down beside her husband.\n\n\"You don't look quite well,\" she said.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said; \"the doctor's been with me today and wasted an hour of\nmy time. I feel that some one of our friends must have sent him: my\nhealth's so precious, it seems.\"\n\n\"No; what did he say?\"\n\nShe questioned him about his health and what he had been doing, and\ntried to persuade him to take a rest and come out to her.\n\nAll this she said brightly, rapidly, and with a peculiar brilliance in\nher eyes. But Alexey Alexandrovitch did not now attach any special\nsignificance to this tone of hers. He heard only her words and gave them\nonly the direct sense they bore. And he answered simply, though\njestingly. There was nothing remarkable in all this conversation, but\nnever after could Anna recall this brief scene without an agonizing pang\nof shame.\n\nSeryozha came in preceded by his governess. If Alexey Alexandrovitch had\nallowed himself to observe he would have noticed the timid and\nbewildered eyes with which Seryozha glanced first at his father and then\nat his mother. But he would not see anything, and he did not see it.\n\n\"Ah, the young man! He's grown. Really, he's getting quite a man. How\nare you, young man?\"\n\nAnd he gave his hand to the scared child. Seryozha had been shy of his\nfather before, and now, ever since Alexey Alexandrovitch had taken to\ncalling him young man, and since that insoluble question had occurred to\nhim whether Vronsky were a friend or a foe, he avoided his father. He\nlooked round towards his mother as though seeking shelter. It was only\nwith his mother that he was at ease. Meanwhile, Alexey Alexandrovitch\nwas holding his son by the shoulder while he was speaking to the\ngoverness, and Seryozha was so miserably uncomfortable that Anna saw he\nwas on the point of tears.\n\nAnna, who had flushed a little the instant her son came in, noticing\nthat Seryozha was uncomfortable, got up hurriedly, took Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's hand from her son's shoulder, and kissing the boy, led\nhim out onto the terrace, and quickly came back.\n\n\"It's time to start, though,\" said she, glancing at her watch. \"How is\nit Betsy doesn't come?...\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, and getting up, he folded his hands\nand cracked his fingers. \"I've come to bring you some money, too, for\nnightingales, we know, can't live on fairy tales,\" he said. \"You want\nit, I expect?\"\n\n\"No, I don't ... yes, I do,\" she said, not looking at him, and\ncrimsoning to the roots of her hair. \"But you'll come back here after\nthe races, I suppose?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" answered Alexey Alexandrovitch. \"And here's the glory of\nPeterhof, Princess Tverskaya,\" he added, looking out of the window at\nthe elegant English carriage with the tiny seats placed extremely high.\n\"What elegance! Charming! Well, let us be starting too, then.\"\n\nPrincess Tverskaya did not get out of her carriage, but her groom, in\nhigh boots, a cape, and black hat, darted out at the entrance.\n\n\"I'm going; good-bye!\" said Anna, and kissing her son, she went up to\nAlexey Alexandrovitch and held out her hand to him. \"It was ever so nice\nof you to come.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch kissed her hand.\n\n\"Well, _au revoir_, then! You'll come back for some tea; that's\ndelightful!\" she said, and went out, gay and radiant. But as soon as she\nno longer saw him, she was aware of the spot on her hand that his lips\nhad touched, and she shuddered with repulsion.\n\n\n\nChapter 28\n\n\nWhen Alexey Alexandrovitch reached the race-course, Anna was already\nsitting in the pavilion beside Betsy, in that pavilion where all the\nhighest society had gathered. She caught sight of her husband in the\ndistance. Two men, her husband and her lover, were the two centers of\nher existence, and unaided by her external senses she was aware of their\nnearness. She was aware of her husband approaching a long way off, and\nshe could not help following him in the surging crowd in the midst of\nwhich he was moving. She watched his progress towards the pavilion, saw\nhim now responding condescendingly to an ingratiating bow, now\nexchanging friendly, nonchalant greetings with his equals, now\nassiduously trying to catch the eye of some great one of this world, and\ntaking off his big round hat that squeezed the tips of his ears. All\nthese ways of his she knew, and all were hateful to her. \"Nothing but\nambition, nothing but the desire to get on, that's all there is in his\nsoul,\" she thought; \"as for these lofty ideals, love of culture,\nreligion, they are only so many tools for getting on.\"\n\nFrom his glances towards the ladies' pavilion (he was staring straight\nat her, but did not distinguish his wife in the sea of muslin, ribbons,\nfeathers, parasols and flowers) she saw that he was looking for her, but\nshe purposely avoided noticing him.\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch!\" Princess Betsy called to him; \"I'm sure you\ndon't see your wife: here she is.\"\n\nHe smiled his chilly smile.\n\n\"There's so much splendor here that one's eyes are dazzled,\" he said,\nand he went into the pavilion. He smiled to his wife as a man should\nsmile on meeting his wife after only just parting from her, and greeted\nthe princess and other acquaintances, giving to each what was due--that\nis to say, jesting with the ladies and dealing out friendly greetings\namong the men. Below, near the pavilion, was standing an\nadjutant-general of whom Alexey Alexandrovitch had a high opinion, noted\nfor his intelligence and culture. Alexey Alexandrovitch entered into\nconversation with him.\n\nThere was an interval between the races, and so nothing hindered\nconversation. The adjutant-general expressed his disapproval of races.\nAlexey Alexandrovitch replied defending them. Anna heard his high,\nmeasured tones, not losing one word, and every word struck her as false,\nand stabbed her ears with pain.\n\nWhen the three-mile steeplechase was beginning, she bent forward and\ngazed with fixed eyes at Vronsky as he went up to his horse and mounted,\nand at the same time she heard that loathsome, never-ceasing voice of\nher husband. She was in an agony of terror for Vronsky, but a still\ngreater agony was the never-ceasing, as it seemed to her, stream of her\nhusband's shrill voice with its familiar intonations.\n\n\"I'm a wicked woman, a lost woman,\" she thought; \"but I don't like\nlying, I can't endure falsehood, while as for _him_ (her husband) it's\nthe breath of his life--falsehood. He knows all about it, he sees it\nall; what does he care if he can talk so calmly? If he were to kill me,\nif he were to kill Vronsky, I might respect him. No, all he wants is\nfalsehood and propriety,\" Anna said to herself, not considering exactly\nwhat it was she wanted of her husband, and how she would have liked to\nsee him behave. She did not understand either that Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's peculiar loquacity that day, so exasperating to her,\nwas merely the expression of his inward distress and uneasiness. As a\nchild that has been hurt skips about, putting all his muscles into\nmovement to drown the pain, in the same way Alexey Alexandrovitch needed\nmental exercise to drown the thoughts of his wife that in her presence\nand in Vronsky's, and with the continual iteration of his name, would\nforce themselves on his attention. And it was as natural for him to talk\nwell and cleverly, as it is natural for a child to skip about. He was\nsaying:\n\n\"Danger in the races of officers, of cavalry men, is an essential\nelement in the race. If England can point to the most brilliant feats of\ncavalry in military history, it is simply owing to the fact that she has\nhistorically developed this force both in beasts and in men. Sport has,\nin my opinion, a great value, and as is always the case, we see nothing\nbut what is most superficial.\"\n\n\"It's not superficial,\" said Princess Tverskaya. \"One of the officers,\nthey say, has broken two ribs.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch smiled his smile, which uncovered his teeth, but\nrevealed nothing more.\n\n\"We'll admit, princess, that that's not superficial,\" he said, \"but\ninternal. But that's not the point,\" and he turned again to the general\nwith whom he was talking seriously; \"we mustn't forget that those who\nare taking part in the race are military men, who have chosen that\ncareer, and one must allow that every calling has its disagreeable side.\nIt forms an integral part of the duties of an officer. Low sports, such\nas prize-fighting or Spanish bull-fights, are a sign of barbarity. But\nspecialized trials of skill are a sign of development.\"\n\n\"No, I shan't come another time; it's too upsetting,\" said Princess\nBetsy. \"Isn't it, Anna?\"\n\n\"It is upsetting, but one can't tear oneself away,\" said another lady.\n\"If I'd been a Roman woman I should never have missed a single circus.\"\n\nAnna said nothing, and keeping her opera glass up, gazed always at the\nsame spot.\n\nAt that moment a tall general walked through the pavilion. Breaking off\nwhat he was saying, Alexey Alexandrovitch got up hurriedly, though with\ndignity, and bowed low to the general.\n\n\"You're not racing?\" the officer asked, chaffing him.\n\n\"My race is a harder one,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch responded\ndeferentially.\n\nAnd though the answer meant nothing, the general looked as though he had\nheard a witty remark from a witty man, and fully relished _la pointe de\nla sauce_.\n\n\"There are two aspects,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch resumed: \"those who take\npart and those who look on; and love for such spectacles is an\nunmistakable proof of a low degree of development in the spectator, I\nadmit, but...\"\n\n\"Princess, bets!\" sounded Stepan Arkadyevitch's voice from below,\naddressing Betsy. \"Who's your favorite?\"\n\n\"Anna and I are for Kuzovlev,\" replied Betsy.\n\n\"I'm for Vronsky. A pair of gloves?\"\n\n\"Done!\"\n\n\"But it is a pretty sight, isn't it?\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch paused while there was talking about him, but he\nbegan again directly.\n\n\"I admit that manly sports do not...\" he was continuing.\n\nBut at that moment the racers started, and all conversation ceased.\nAlexey Alexandrovitch too was silent, and everyone stood up and turned\ntowards the stream. Alexey Alexandrovitch took no interest in the race,\nand so he did not watch the racers, but fell listlessly to scanning the\nspectators with his weary eyes. His eyes rested upon Anna.\n\nHer face was white and set. She was obviously seeing nothing and no one\nbut one man. Her hand had convulsively clutched her fan, and she held\nher breath. He looked at her and hastily turned away, scrutinizing other\nfaces.\n\n\"But here's this lady too, and others very much moved as well; it's very\nnatural,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch told himself. He tried not to look at\nher, but unconsciously his eyes were drawn to her. He examined that face\nagain, trying not to read what was so plainly written on it, and against\nhis own will, with horror read on it what he did not want to know.\n\nThe first fall--Kuzovlev's, at the stream--agitated everyone, but Alexey\nAlexandrovitch saw distinctly on Anna's pale, triumphant face that the\nman she was watching had not fallen. When, after Mahotin and Vronsky had\ncleared the worst barrier, the next officer had been thrown straight on\nhis head at it and fatally injured, and a shudder of horror passed over\nthe whole public, Alexey Alexandrovitch saw that Anna did not even\nnotice it, and had some difficulty in realizing what they were talking\nof about her. But more and more often, and with greater persistence, he\nwatched her. Anna, wholly engrossed as she was with the race, became\naware of her husband's cold eyes fixed upon her from one side.\n\nShe glanced round for an instant, looked inquiringly at him, and with a\nslight frown turned away again.\n\n\"Ah, I don't care!\" she seemed to say to him, and she did not once\nglance at him again.\n\nThe race was an unlucky one, and of the seventeen officers who rode in\nit more than half were thrown and hurt. Towards the end of the race\neveryone was in a state of agitation, which was intensified by the fact\nthat the Tsar was displeased.\n\n\n\nChapter 29\n\n\nEveryone was loudly expressing disapprobation, everyone was repeating a\nphrase some one had uttered--\"The lions and gladiators will be the next\nthing,\" and everyone was feeling horrified; so that when Vronsky fell to\nthe ground, and Anna moaned aloud, there was nothing very out of the way\nin it. But afterwards a change came over Anna's face which really was\nbeyond decorum. She utterly lost her head. She began fluttering like a\ncaged bird, at one moment would have got up and moved away, at the next\nturned to Betsy.\n\n\"Let us go, let us go!\" she said.\n\nBut Betsy did not hear her. She was bending down, talking to a general\nwho had come up to her.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch went up to Anna and courteously offered her his\narm.\n\n\"Let us go, if you like,\" he said in French, but Anna was listening to\nthe general and did not notice her husband.\n\n\"He's broken his leg too, so they say,\" the general was saying. \"This is\nbeyond everything.\"\n\nWithout answering her husband, Anna lifted her opera glass and gazed\ntowards the place where Vronsky had fallen; but it was so far off, and\nthere was such a crowd of people about it, that she could make out\nnothing. She laid down the opera glass, and would have moved away, but\nat that moment an officer galloped up and made some announcement to the\nTsar. Anna craned forward, listening.\n\n\"Stiva! Stiva!\" she cried to her brother.\n\nBut her brother did not hear her. Again she would have moved away.\n\n\"Once more I offer you my arm if you want to be going,\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, reaching towards her hand.\n\nShe drew back from him with aversion, and without looking in his face\nanswered:\n\n\"No, no, let me be, I'll stay.\"\n\nShe saw now that from the place of Vronsky's accident an officer was\nrunning across the course towards the pavilion. Betsy waved her\nhandkerchief to him. The officer brought the news that the rider was not\nkilled, but the horse had broken its back.\n\nOn hearing this Anna sat down hurriedly, and hid her face in her fan.\nAlexey Alexandrovitch saw that she was weeping, and could not control\nher tears, nor even the sobs that were shaking her bosom. Alexey\nAlexandrovitch stood so as to screen her, giving her time to recover\nherself.\n\n\"For the third time I offer you my arm,\" he said to her after a little\ntime, turning to her. Anna gazed at him and did not know what to say.\nPrincess Betsy came to her rescue.\n\n\"No, Alexey Alexandrovitch; I brought Anna and I promised to take her\nhome,\" put in Betsy.\n\n\"Excuse me, princess,\" he said, smiling courteously but looking her very\nfirmly in the face, \"but I see that Anna's not very well, and I wish her\nto come home with me.\"\n\nAnna looked about her in a frightened way, got up submissively, and laid\nher hand on her husband's arm.\n\n\"I'll send to him and find out, and let you know,\" Betsy whispered to\nher.\n\nAs they left the pavilion, Alexey Alexandrovitch, as always, talked to\nthose he met, and Anna had, as always, to talk and answer; but she was\nutterly beside herself, and moved hanging on her husband's arm as though\nin a dream.\n\n\"Is he killed or not? Is it true? Will he come or not? Shall I see him\ntoday?\" she was thinking.\n\nShe took her seat in her husband's carriage in silence, and in silence\ndrove out of the crowd of carriages. In spite of all he had seen, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch still did not allow himself to consider his wife's real\ncondition. He merely saw the outward symptoms. He saw that she was\nbehaving unbecomingly, and considered it his duty to tell her so. But it\nwas very difficult for him not to say more, to tell her nothing but\nthat. He opened his mouth to tell her she had behaved unbecomingly, but\nhe could not help saying something utterly different.\n\n\"What an inclination we all have, though, for these cruel spectacles,\"\nhe said. \"I observe...\"\n\n\"Eh? I don't understand,\" said Anna contemptuously.\n\nHe was offended, and at once began to say what he had meant to say.\n\n\"I am obliged to tell you,\" he began.\n\n\"So now we are to have it out,\" she thought, and she felt frightened.\n\n\"I am obliged to tell you that your behavior has been unbecoming today,\"\nhe said to her in French.\n\n\"In what way has my behavior been unbecoming?\" she said aloud, turning\nher head swiftly and looking him straight in the face, not with the\nbright expression that seemed covering something, but with a look of\ndetermination, under which she concealed with difficulty the dismay she\nwas feeling.\n\n\"Mind,\" he said, pointing to the open window opposite the coachman.\n\nHe got up and pulled up the window.\n\n\"What did you consider unbecoming?\" she repeated.\n\n\"The despair you were unable to conceal at the accident to one of the\nriders.\"\n\nHe waited for her to answer, but she was silent, looking straight before\nher.\n\n\"I have already begged you so to conduct yourself in society that even\nmalicious tongues can find nothing to say against you. There was a time\nwhen I spoke of your inward attitude, but I am not speaking of that now.\nNow I speak only of your external attitude. You have behaved improperly,\nand I would wish it not to occur again.\"\n\nShe did not hear half of what he was saying; she felt panic-stricken\nbefore him, and was thinking whether it was true that Vronsky was not\nkilled. Was it of him they were speaking when they said the rider was\nunhurt, but the horse had broken its back? She merely smiled with a\npretense of irony when he finished, and made no reply, because she had\nnot heard what he said. Alexey Alexandrovitch had begun to speak boldly,\nbut as he realized plainly what he was speaking of, the dismay she was\nfeeling infected him too. He saw the smile, and a strange\nmisapprehension came over him.\n\n\"She is smiling at my suspicions. Yes, she will tell me directly what\nshe told me before; that there is no foundation for my suspicions, that\nit's absurd.\"\n\nAt that moment, when the revelation of everything was hanging over him,\nthere was nothing he expected so much as that she would answer mockingly\nas before that his suspicions were absurd and utterly groundless. So\nterrible to him was what he knew that now he was ready to believe\nanything. But the expression of her face, scared and gloomy, did not now\npromise even deception.\n\n\"Possibly I was mistaken,\" said he. \"If so, I beg your pardon.\"\n\n\"No, you were not mistaken,\" she said deliberately, looking desperately\ninto his cold face. \"You were not mistaken. I was, and I could not help\nbeing in despair. I hear you, but I am thinking of him. I love him, I am\nhis mistress; I can't bear you; I'm afraid of you, and I hate you....\nYou can do what you like to me.\"\n\nAnd dropping back into the corner of the carriage, she broke into sobs,\nhiding her face in her hands. Alexey Alexandrovitch did not stir, and\nkept looking straight before him. But his whole face suddenly bore the\nsolemn rigidity of the dead, and his expression did not change during\nthe whole time of the drive home. On reaching the house he turned his\nhead to her, still with the same expression.\n\n\"Very well! But I expect a strict observance of the external forms of\npropriety till such time\"--his voice shook--\"as I may take measures to\nsecure my honor and communicate them to you.\"\n\nHe got out first and helped her to get out. Before the servants he\npressed her hand, took his seat in the carriage, and drove back to\nPetersburg. Immediately afterwards a footman came from Princess Betsy\nand brought Anna a note.\n\n\"I sent to Alexey to find out how he is, and he writes me he is quite\nwell and unhurt, but in despair.\"\n\n\"So _he_ will be here,\" she thought. \"What a good thing I told him all!\"\n\nShe glanced at her watch. She had still three hours to wait, and the\nmemories of their last meeting set her blood in flame.\n\n\"My God, how light it is! It's dreadful, but I do love to see his face,\nand I do love this fantastic light.... My husband! Oh! yes.... Well,\nthank God! everything's over with him.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 30\n\n\nIn the little German watering-place to which the Shtcherbatskys had\nbetaken themselves, as in all places indeed where people are gathered\ntogether, the usual process, as it were, of the crystallization of\nsociety went on, assigning to each member of that society a definite and\nunalterable place. Just as the particle of water in frost, definitely\nand unalterably, takes the special form of the crystal of snow, so each\nnew person that arrived at the springs was at once placed in his special\nplace.\n\n_Fuerst_ Shtcherbatsky, _sammt Gemahlin und Tochter_, by the apartments\nthey took, and from their name and from the friends they made, were\nimmediately crystallized into a definite place marked out for them.\n\nThere was visiting the watering-place that year a real German Fuerstin,\nin consequence of which the crystallizing process went on more\nvigorously than ever. Princess Shtcherbatskaya wished, above everything,\nto present her daughter to this German princess, and the day after their\narrival she duly performed this rite. Kitty made a low and graceful\ncurtsey in the _very simple_, that is to say, very elegant frock that\nhad been ordered her from Paris. The German princess said, \"I hope the\nroses will soon come back to this pretty little face,\" and for the\nShtcherbatskys certain definite lines of existence were at once laid\ndown from which there was no departing. The Shtcherbatskys made the\nacquaintance too of the family of an English Lady Somebody, and of a\nGerman countess and her son, wounded in the last war, and of a learned\nSwede, and of M. Canut and his sister. But yet inevitably the\nShtcherbatskys were thrown most into the society of a Moscow lady, Marya\nYevgenyevna Rtishtcheva and her daughter, whom Kitty disliked, because\nshe had fallen ill, like herself, over a love affair, and a Moscow\ncolonel, whom Kitty had known from childhood, and always seen in uniform\nand epaulets, and who now, with his little eyes and his open neck and\nflowered cravat, was uncommonly ridiculous and tedious, because there\nwas no getting rid of him. When all this was so firmly established,\nKitty began to be very much bored, especially as the prince went away to\nCarlsbad and she was left alone with her mother. She took no interest in\nthe people she knew, feeling that nothing fresh would come of them. Her\nchief mental interest in the watering-place consisted in watching and\nmaking theories about the people she did not know. It was characteristic\nof Kitty that she always imagined everything in people in the most\nfavorable light possible, especially so in those she did not know. And\nnow as she made surmises as to who people were, what were their\nrelations to one another, and what they were like, Kitty endowed them\nwith the most marvelous and noble characters, and found confirmation of\nher idea in her observations.\n\nOf these people the one that attracted her most was a Russian girl who\nhad come to the watering-place with an invalid Russian lady, Madame\nStahl, as everyone called her. Madame Stahl belonged to the highest\nsociety, but she was so ill that she could not walk, and only on\nexceptionally fine days made her appearance at the springs in an invalid\ncarriage. But it was not so much from ill-health as from pride--so\nPrincess Shtcherbatskaya interpreted it--that Madame Stahl had not made\nthe acquaintance of anyone among the Russians there. The Russian girl\nlooked after Madame Stahl, and besides that, she was, as Kitty observed,\non friendly terms with all the invalids who were seriously ill, and\nthere were many of them at the springs, and looked after them in the\nmost natural way. This Russian girl was not, as Kitty gathered, related\nto Madame Stahl, nor was she a paid attendant. Madame Stahl called her\nVarenka, and other people called her \"Mademoiselle Varenka.\" Apart from\nthe interest Kitty took in this girl's relations with Madame Stahl and\nwith other unknown persons, Kitty, as often happened, felt an\ninexplicable attraction to Mademoiselle Varenka, and was aware when\ntheir eyes met that she too liked her.\n\nOf Mademoiselle Varenka one would not say that she had passed her first\nyouth, but she was, as it were, a creature without youth; she might have\nbeen taken for nineteen or for thirty. If her features were criticized\nseparately, she was handsome rather than plain, in spite of the sickly\nhue of her face. She would have been a good figure, too, if it had not\nbeen for her extreme thinness and the size of her head, which was too\nlarge for her medium height. But she was not likely to be attractive to\nmen. She was like a fine flower, already past its bloom and without\nfragrance, though the petals were still unwithered. Moreover, she would\nhave been unattractive to men also from the lack of just what Kitty had\ntoo much of--of the suppressed fire of vitality, and the consciousness\nof her own attractiveness.\n\nShe always seemed absorbed in work about which there could be no doubt,\nand so it seemed she could not take interest in anything outside it. It\nwas just this contrast with her own position that was for Kitty the\ngreat attraction of Mademoiselle Varenka. Kitty felt that in her, in her\nmanner of life, she would find an example of what she was now so\npainfully seeking: interest in life, a dignity in life--apart from the\nworldly relations of girls with men, which so revolted Kitty, and\nappeared to her now as a shameful hawking about of goods in search of a\npurchaser. The more attentively Kitty watched her unknown friend, the\nmore convinced she was this girl was the perfect creature she fancied\nher, and the more eagerly she wished to make her acquaintance.\n\nThe two girls used to meet several times a day, and every time they met,\nKitty's eyes said: \"Who are you? What are you? Are you really the\nexquisite creature I imagine you to be? But for goodness' sake don't\nsuppose,\" her eyes added, \"that I would force my acquaintance on you, I\nsimply admire you and like you.\" \"I like you too, and you're very, very\nsweet. And I should like you better still, if I had time,\" answered the\neyes of the unknown girl. Kitty saw indeed, that she was always busy.\nEither she was taking the children of a Russian family home from the\nsprings, or fetching a shawl for a sick lady, and wrapping her up in it,\nor trying to interest an irritable invalid, or selecting and buying\ncakes for tea for someone.\n\nSoon after the arrival of the Shtcherbatskys there appeared in the\nmorning crowd at the springs two persons who attracted universal and\nunfavorable attention. These were a tall man with a stooping figure, and\nhuge hands, in an old coat too short for him, with black, simple, and\nyet terrible eyes, and a pockmarked, kind-looking woman, very badly and\ntastelessly dressed. Recognizing these persons as Russians, Kitty had\nalready in her imagination begun constructing a delightful and touching\nromance about them. But the princess, having ascertained from the\nvisitors' list that this was Nikolay Levin and Marya Nikolaevna,\nexplained to Kitty what a bad man this Levin was, and all her fancies\nabout these two people vanished. Not so much from what her mother told\nher, as from the fact that it was Konstantin's brother, this pair\nsuddenly seemed to Kitty intensely unpleasant. This Levin, with his\ncontinual twitching of his head, aroused in her now an irrepressible\nfeeling of disgust.\n\nIt seemed to her that his big, terrible eyes, which persistently pursued\nher, expressed a feeling of hatred and contempt, and she tried to avoid\nmeeting him.\n\n\n\nChapter 31\n\n\nIt was a wet day; it had been raining all the morning, and the invalids,\nwith their parasols, had flocked into the arcades.\n\nKitty was walking there with her mother and the Moscow colonel, smart\nand jaunty in his European coat, bought ready-made at Frankfort. They\nwere walking on one side of the arcade, trying to avoid Levin, who was\nwalking on the other side. Varenka, in her dark dress, in a black hat\nwith a turn-down brim, was walking up and down the whole length of the\narcade with a blind Frenchwoman, and, every time she met Kitty, they\nexchanged friendly glances.\n\n\"Mamma, couldn't I speak to her?\" said Kitty, watching her unknown\nfriend, and noticing that she was going up to the spring, and that they\nmight come there together.\n\n\"Oh, if you want to so much, I'll find out about her first and make her\nacquaintance myself,\" answered her mother. \"What do you see in her out\nof the way? A companion, she must be. If you like, I'll make\nacquaintance with Madame Stahl; I used to know her _belle-soeur_,\" added\nthe princess, lifting her head haughtily.\n\nKitty knew that the princess was offended that Madame Stahl had seemed\nto avoid making her acquaintance. Kitty did not insist.\n\n\"How wonderfully sweet she is!\" she said, gazing at Varenka just as she\nhanded a glass to the Frenchwoman. \"Look how natural and sweet it all\nis.\"\n\n\"It's so funny to see your _engouements_,\" said the princess. \"No, we'd\nbetter go back,\" she added, noticing Levin coming towards them with his\ncompanion and a German doctor, to whom he was talking very noisily and\nangrily.\n\nThey turned to go back, when suddenly they heard, not noisy talk, but\nshouting. Levin, stopping short, was shouting at the doctor, and the\ndoctor, too, was excited. A crowd gathered about them. The princess and\nKitty beat a hasty retreat, while the colonel joined the crowd to find\nout what was the matter.\n\nA few minutes later the colonel overtook them.\n\n\"What was it?\" inquired the princess.\n\n\"Scandalous and disgraceful!\" answered the colonel. \"The one thing to be\ndreaded is meeting Russians abroad. That tall gentleman was abusing the\ndoctor, flinging all sorts of insults at him because he wasn't treating\nhim quite as he liked, and he began waving his stick at him. It's simply\na scandal!\"\n\n\"Oh, how unpleasant!\" said the princess. \"Well, and how did it end?\"\n\n\"Luckily at that point that ... the one in the mushroom hat ...\nintervened. A Russian lady, I think she is,\" said the colonel.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Varenka?\" asked Kitty.\n\n\"Yes, yes. She came to the rescue before anyone; she took the man by the\narm and led him away.\"\n\n\"There, mamma,\" said Kitty; \"you wonder that I'm enthusiastic about\nher.\"\n\nThe next day, as she watched her unknown friend, Kitty noticed that\nMademoiselle Varenka was already on the same terms with Levin and his\ncompanion as with her other _proteges_. She went up to them, entered\ninto conversation with them, and served as interpreter for the woman,\nwho could not speak any foreign language.\n\nKitty began to entreat her mother still more urgently to let her make\nfriends with Varenka. And, disagreeable as it was to the princess to\nseem to take the first step in wishing to make the acquaintance of\nMadame Stahl, who thought fit to give herself airs, she made inquiries\nabout Varenka, and, having ascertained particulars about her tending to\nprove that there could be no harm though little good in the\nacquaintance, she herself approached Varenka and made acquaintance with\nher.\n\nChoosing a time when her daughter had gone to the spring, while Varenka\nhad stopped outside the baker's, the princess went up to her.\n\n\"Allow me to make your acquaintance,\" she said, with her dignified\nsmile. \"My daughter has lost her heart to you,\" she said. \"Possibly you\ndo not know me. I am...\"\n\n\"That feeling is more than reciprocal, princess,\" Varenka answered\nhurriedly.\n\n\"What a good deed you did yesterday to our poor compatriot!\" said the\nprincess.\n\nVarenka flushed a little. \"I don't remember. I don't think I did\nanything,\" she said.\n\n\"Why, you saved that Levin from disagreeable consequences.\"\n\n\"Yes, _sa compagne_ called me, and I tried to pacify him, he's very ill,\nand was dissatisfied with the doctor. I'm used to looking after such\ninvalids.\"\n\n\"Yes, I've heard you live at Mentone with your aunt--I think--Madame\nStahl: I used to know her _belle-soeur_.\"\n\n\"No, she's not my aunt. I call her mamma, but I am not related to her; I\nwas brought up by her,\" answered Varenka, flushing a little again.\n\nThis was so simply said, and so sweet was the truthful and candid\nexpression of her face, that the princess saw why Kitty had taken such a\nfancy to Varenka.\n\n\"Well, and what's this Levin going to do?\" asked the princess.\n\n\"He's going away,\" answered Varenka.\n\nAt that instant Kitty came up from the spring beaming with delight that\nher mother had become acquainted with her unknown friend.\n\n\"Well, see, Kitty, your intense desire to make friends with\nMademoiselle. . .\"\n\n\"Varenka,\" Varenka put in smiling, \"that's what everyone calls me.\"\n\nKitty blushed with pleasure, and slowly, without speaking, pressed her\nnew friend's hand, which did not respond to her pressure, but lay\nmotionless in her hand. The hand did not respond to her pressure, but\nthe face of Mademoiselle Varenka glowed with a soft, glad, though rather\nmournful smile, that showed large but handsome teeth.\n\n\"I have long wished for this too,\" she said.\n\n\"But you are so busy.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, I'm not at all busy,\" answered Varenka, but at that moment she\nhad to leave her new friends because two little Russian girls, children\nof an invalid, ran up to her.\n\n\"Varenka, mamma's calling!\" they cried.\n\nAnd Varenka went after them.\n\n\n\nChapter 32\n\n\nThe particulars which the princess had learned in regard to Varenka's\npast and her relations with Madame Stahl were as follows:\n\nMadame Stahl, of whom some people said that she had worried her husband\nout of his life, while others said it was he who had made her wretched\nby his immoral behavior, had always been a woman of weak health and\nenthusiastic temperament. When, after her separation from her husband,\nshe gave birth to her only child, the child had died almost immediately,\nand the family of Madame Stahl, knowing her sensibility, and fearing the\nnews would kill her, had substituted another child, a baby born the same\nnight and in the same house in Petersburg, the daughter of the chief\ncook of the Imperial Household. This was Varenka. Madame Stahl learned\nlater on that Varenka was not her own child, but she went on bringing\nher up, especially as very soon afterwards Varenka had not a relation of\nher own living. Madame Stahl had now been living more than ten years\ncontinuously abroad, in the south, never leaving her couch. And some\npeople said that Madame Stahl had made her social position as a\nphilanthropic, highly religious woman; other people said she really was\nat heart the highly ethical being, living for nothing but the good of\nher fellow creatures, which she represented herself to be. No one knew\nwhat her faith was--Catholic, Protestant, or Orthodox. But one fact was\nindubitable--she was in amicable relations with the highest dignitaries\nof all the churches and sects.\n\nVarenka lived with her all the while abroad, and everyone who knew\nMadame Stahl knew and liked Mademoiselle Varenka, as everyone called\nher.\n\nHaving learned all these facts, the princess found nothing to object to\nin her daughter's intimacy with Varenka, more especially as Varenka's\nbreeding and education were of the best--she spoke French and English\nextremely well--and what was of the most weight, brought a message from\nMadame Stahl expressing her regret that she was prevented by her ill\nhealth from making the acquaintance of the princess.\n\nAfter getting to know Varenka, Kitty became more and more fascinated by\nher friend, and every day she discovered new virtues in her.\n\nThe princess, hearing that Varenka had a good voice, asked her to come\nand sing to them in the evening.\n\n\"Kitty plays, and we have a piano; not a good one, it's true, but you\nwill give us so much pleasure,\" said the princess with her affected\nsmile, which Kitty disliked particularly just then, because she noticed\nthat Varenka had no inclination to sing. Varenka came, however, in the\nevening and brought a roll of music with her. The princess had invited\nMarya Yevgenyevna and her daughter and the colonel.\n\nVarenka seemed quite unaffected by there being persons present she did\nnot know, and she went directly to the piano. She could not accompany\nherself, but she could sing music at sight very well. Kitty, who played\nwell, accompanied her.\n\n\"You have an extraordinary talent,\" the princess said to her after\nVarenka had sung the first song extremely well.\n\nMarya Yevgenyevna and her daughter expressed their thanks and\nadmiration.\n\n\"Look,\" said the colonel, looking out of the window, \"what an audience\nhas collected to listen to you.\" There actually was quite a considerable\ncrowd under the windows.\n\n\"I am very glad it gives you pleasure,\" Varenka answered simply.\n\nKitty looked with pride at her friend. She was enchanted by her talent,\nand her voice, and her face, but most of all by her manner, by the way\nVarenka obviously thought nothing of her singing and was quite unmoved\nby their praises. She seemed only to be asking: \"Am I to sing again, or\nis that enough?\"\n\n\"If it had been I,\" thought Kitty, \"how proud I should have been! How\ndelighted I should have been to see that crowd under the windows! But\nshe's utterly unmoved by it. Her only motive is to avoid refusing and to\nplease mamma. What is there in her? What is it gives her the power to\nlook down on everything, to be calm independently of everything? How I\nshould like to know it and to learn it of her!\" thought Kitty, gazing\ninto her serene face. The princess asked Varenka to sing again, and\nVarenka sang another song, also smoothly, distinctly, and well, standing\nerect at the piano and beating time on it with her thin, dark-skinned\nhand.\n\nThe next song in the book was an Italian one. Kitty played the opening\nbars, and looked round at Varenka.\n\n\"Let's skip that,\" said Varenka, flushing a little. Kitty let her eyes\nrest on Varenka's face, with a look of dismay and inquiry.\n\n\"Very well, the next one,\" she said hurriedly, turning over the pages,\nand at once feeling that there was something connected with the song.\n\n\"No,\" answered Varenka with a smile, laying her hand on the music, \"no,\nlet's have that one.\" And she sang it just as quietly, as coolly, and as\nwell as the others.\n\nWhen she had finished, they all thanked her again, and went off to tea.\nKitty and Varenka went out into the little garden that adjoined the\nhouse.\n\n\"Am I right, that you have some reminiscences connected with that song?\"\nsaid Kitty. \"Don't tell me,\" she added hastily, \"only say if I'm right.\"\n\n\"No, why not? I'll tell you simply,\" said Varenka, and, without waiting\nfor a reply, she went on: \"Yes, it brings up memories, once painful\nones. I cared for someone once, and I used to sing him that song.\"\n\nKitty with big, wide-open eyes gazed silently, sympathetically at\nVarenka.\n\n\"I cared for him, and he cared for me; but his mother did not wish it,\nand he married another girl. He's living now not far from us, and I see\nhim sometimes. You didn't think I had a love story too,\" she said, and\nthere was a faint gleam in her handsome face of that fire which Kitty\nfelt must once have glowed all over her.\n\n\"I didn't think so? Why, if I were a man, I could never care for anyone\nelse after knowing you. Only I can't understand how he could, to please\nhis mother, forget you and make you unhappy; he had no heart.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, he's a very good man, and I'm not unhappy; quite the contrary,\nI'm very happy. Well, so we shan't be singing any more now,\" she added,\nturning towards the house.\n\n\"How good you are! how good you are!\" cried Kitty, and stopping her, she\nkissed her. \"If I could only be even a little like you!\"\n\n\"Why should you be like anyone? You're nice as you are,\" said Varenka,\nsmiling her gentle, weary smile.\n\n\"No, I'm not nice at all. Come, tell me.... Stop a minute, let's sit\ndown,\" said Kitty, making her sit down again beside her. \"Tell me, isn't\nit humiliating to think that a man has disdained your love, that he\nhasn't cared for it?...\"\n\n\"But he didn't disdain it; I believe he cared for me, but he was a\ndutiful son...\"\n\n\"Yes, but if it hadn't been on account of his mother, if it had been his\nown doing?...\" said Kitty, feeling she was giving away her secret, and\nthat her face, burning with the flush of shame, had betrayed her\nalready.\n\n\"In that case he would have done wrong, and I should not have regretted\nhim,\" answered Varenka, evidently realizing that they were now talking\nnot of her, but of Kitty.\n\n\"But the humiliation,\" said Kitty, \"the humiliation one can never\nforget, can never forget,\" she said, remembering her look at the last\nball during the pause in the music.\n\n\"Where is the humiliation? Why, you did nothing wrong?\"\n\n\"Worse than wrong--shameful.\"\n\nVarenka shook her head and laid her hand on Kitty's hand.\n\n\"Why, what is there shameful?\" she said. \"You didn't tell a man, who\ndidn't care for you, that you loved him, did you?\"\n\n\"Of course not; I never said a word, but he knew it. No, no, there are\nlooks, there are ways; I can't forget it, if I live a hundred years.\"\n\n\"Why so? I don't understand. The whole point is whether you love him now\nor not,\" said Varenka, who called everything by its name.\n\n\"I hate him; I can't forgive myself.\"\n\n\"Why, what for?\"\n\n\"The shame, the humiliation!\"\n\n\"Oh! if everyone were as sensitive as you are!\" said Varenka. \"There\nisn't a girl who hasn't been through the same. And it's all so\nunimportant.\"\n\n\"Why, what is important?\" said Kitty, looking into her face with\ninquisitive wonder.\n\n\"Oh, there's so much that's important,\" said Varenka, smiling.\n\n\"Why, what?\"\n\n\"Oh, so much that's more important,\" answered Varenka, not knowing what\nto say. But at that instant they heard the princess's voice from the\nwindow. \"Kitty, it's cold! Either get a shawl, or come indoors.\"\n\n\"It really is time to go in!\" said Varenka, getting up. \"I have to go on\nto Madame Berthe's; she asked me to.\"\n\nKitty held her by the hand, and with passionate curiosity and entreaty\nher eyes asked her: \"What is it, what is this of such importance that\ngives you such tranquillity? You know, tell me!\" But Varenka did not\neven know what Kitty's eyes were asking her. She merely thought that she\nhad to go to see Madame Berthe too that evening, and to make haste home\nin time for _maman's_ tea at twelve o'clock. She went indoors, collected\nher music, and saying good-bye to everyone, was about to go.\n\n\"Allow me to see you home,\" said the colonel.\n\n\"Yes, how can you go alone at night like this?\" chimed in the princess.\n\"Anyway, I'll send Parasha.\"\n\nKitty saw that Varenka could hardly restrain a smile at the idea that\nshe needed an escort.\n\n\"No, I always go about alone and nothing ever happens to me,\" she said,\ntaking her hat. And kissing Kitty once more, without saying what was\nimportant, she stepped out courageously with the music under her arm and\nvanished into the twilight of the summer night, bearing away with her\nher secret of what was important and what gave her the calm and dignity\nso much to be envied.\n\n\n\nChapter 33\n\n\nKitty made the acquaintance of Madame Stahl too, and this acquaintance,\ntogether with her friendship with Varenka, did not merely exercise a\ngreat influence on her, it also comforted her in her mental distress.\nShe found this comfort through a completely new world being opened to\nher by means of this acquaintance, a world having nothing in common with\nher past, an exalted, noble world, from the height of which she could\ncontemplate her past calmly. It was revealed to her that besides the\ninstinctive life to which Kitty had given herself up hitherto there was\na spiritual life. This life was disclosed in religion, but a religion\nhaving nothing in common with that one which Kitty had known from\nchildhood, and which found expression in litanies and all-night services\nat the Widow's Home, where one might meet one's friends, and in learning\nby heart Slavonic texts with the priest. This was a lofty, mysterious\nreligion connected with a whole series of noble thoughts and feelings,\nwhich one could do more than merely believe because one was told to,\nwhich one could love.\n\nKitty found all this out not from words. Madame Stahl talked to Kitty as\nto a charming child that one looks on with pleasure as on the memory of\none's youth, and only once she said in passing that in all human sorrows\nnothing gives comfort but love and faith, and that in the sight of\nChrist's compassion for us no sorrow is trifling--and immediately talked\nof other things. But in every gesture of Madame Stahl, in every word, in\nevery heavenly--as Kitty called it--look, and above all in the whole\nstory of her life, which she heard from Varenka, Kitty recognized that\nsomething \"that was important,\" of which, till then, she had known\nnothing.\n\nYet, elevated as Madame Stahl's character was, touching as was her\nstory, and exalted and moving as was her speech, Kitty could not help\ndetecting in her some traits which perplexed her. She noticed that when\nquestioning her about her family, Madame Stahl had smiled\ncontemptuously, which was not in accord with Christian meekness. She\nnoticed, too, that when she had found a Catholic priest with her, Madame\nStahl had studiously kept her face in the shadow of the lamp-shade and\nhad smiled in a peculiar way. Trivial as these two observations were,\nthey perplexed her, and she had her doubts as to Madame Stahl. But on\nthe other hand Varenka, alone in the world, without friends or\nrelations, with a melancholy disappointment in the past, desiring\nnothing, regretting nothing, was just that perfection of which Kitty\ndared hardly dream. In Varenka she realized that one has but to forget\noneself and love others, and one will be calm, happy, and noble. And\nthat was what Kitty longed to be. Seeing now clearly what was _the most\nimportant_, Kitty was not satisfied with being enthusiastic over it; she\nat once gave herself up with her whole soul to the new life that was\nopening to her. From Varenka's accounts of the doings of Madame Stahl\nand other people whom she mentioned, Kitty had already constructed the\nplan of her own future life. She would, like Madame Stahl's niece,\nAline, of whom Varenka had talked to her a great deal, seek out those\nwho were in trouble, wherever she might be living, help them as far as\nshe could, give them the Gospel, read the Gospel to the sick, to\ncriminals, to the dying. The idea of reading the Gospel to criminals, as\nAline did, particularly fascinated Kitty. But all these were secret\ndreams, of which Kitty did not talk either to her mother or to Varenka.\n\nWhile awaiting the time for carrying out her plans on a large scale,\nhowever, Kitty, even then at the springs, where there were so many\npeople ill and unhappy, readily found a chance for practicing her new\nprinciples in imitation of Varenka.\n\nAt first the princess noticed nothing but that Kitty was much under the\ninfluence of her _engouement_, as she called it, for Madame Stahl, and\nstill more for Varenka. She saw that Kitty did not merely imitate\nVarenka in her conduct, but unconsciously imitated her in her manner of\nwalking, of talking, of blinking her eyes. But later on the princess\nnoticed that, apart from this adoration, some kind of serious spiritual\nchange was taking place in her daughter.\n\nThe princess saw that in the evenings Kitty read a French testament that\nMadame Stahl had given her--a thing she had never done before; that she\navoided society acquaintances and associated with the sick people who\nwere under Varenka's protection, and especially one poor family, that of\na sick painter, Petrov. Kitty was unmistakably proud of playing the part\nof a sister of mercy in that family. All this was well enough, and the\nprincess had nothing to say against it, especially as Petrov's wife was\na perfectly nice sort of woman, and that the German princess, noticing\nKitty's devotion, praised her, calling her an angel of consolation. All\nthis would have been very well, if there had been no exaggeration. But\nthe princess saw that her daughter was rushing into extremes, and so\nindeed she told her.\n\n\"_Il ne faut jamais rien outrer_,\" she said to her.\n\nHer daughter made her no reply, only in her heart she thought that one\ncould not talk about exaggeration where Christianity was concerned. What\nexaggeration could there be in the practice of a doctrine wherein one\nwas bidden to turn the other cheek when one was smitten, and give one's\ncloak if one's coat were taken? But the princess disliked this\nexaggeration, and disliked even more the fact that she felt her daughter\ndid not care to show her all her heart. Kitty did in fact conceal her\nnew views and feelings from her mother. She concealed them not because\nshe did not respect or did not love her mother, but simply because she\nwas her mother. She would have revealed them to anyone sooner than to\nher mother.\n\n\"How is it Anna Pavlovna's not been to see us for so long?\" the princess\nsaid one day of Madame Petrova. \"I've asked her, but she seems put out\nabout something.\"\n\n\"No, I've not noticed it, maman,\" said Kitty, flushing hotly.\n\n\"Is it long since you went to see them?\"\n\n\"We're meaning to make an expedition to the mountains tomorrow,\"\nanswered Kitty.\n\n\"Well, you can go,\" answered the princess, gazing at her daughter's\nembarrassed face and trying to guess the cause of her embarrassment.\n\nThat day Varenka came to dinner and told them that Anna Pavlovna had\nchanged her mind and given up the expedition for the morrow. And the\nprincess noticed again that Kitty reddened.\n\n\"Kitty, haven't you had some misunderstanding with the Petrovs?\" said\nthe princess, when they were left alone. \"Why has she given up sending\nthe children and coming to see us?\"\n\nKitty answered that nothing had happened between them, and that she\ncould not tell why Anna Pavlovna seemed displeased with her. Kitty\nanswered perfectly truly. She did not know the reason Anna Pavlovna had\nchanged to her, but she guessed it. She guessed at something which she\ncould not tell her mother, which she did not put into words to herself.\nIt was one of those things which one knows but which one can never speak\nof even to oneself, so terrible and shameful would it be to be mistaken.\n\nAgain and again she went over in her memory all her relations with the\nfamily. She remembered the simple delight expressed on the round,\ngood-humored face of Anna Pavlovna at their meetings; she remembered\ntheir secret confabulations about the invalid, their plots to draw him\naway from the work which was forbidden him, and to get him out-of-doors;\nthe devotion of the youngest boy, who used to call her \"my Kitty,\" and\nwould not go to bed without her. How nice it all was! Then she recalled\nthe thin, terribly thin figure of Petrov, with his long neck, in his\nbrown coat, his scant, curly hair, his questioning blue eyes that were\nso terrible to Kitty at first, and his painful attempts to seem hearty\nand lively in her presence. She recalled the efforts she had made at\nfirst to overcome the repugnance she felt for him, as for all\nconsumptive people, and the pains it had cost her to think of things to\nsay to him. She recalled the timid, softened look with which he gazed at\nher, and the strange feeling of compassion and awkwardness, and later of\na sense of her own goodness, which she had felt at it. How nice it all\nwas! But all that was at first. Now, a few days ago, everything was\nsuddenly spoiled. Anna Pavlovna had met Kitty with affected cordiality,\nand had kept continual watch on her and on her husband.\n\nCould that touching pleasure he showed when she came near be the cause\nof Anna Pavlovna's coolness?\n\n\"Yes,\" she mused, \"there was something unnatural about Anna Pavlovna,\nand utterly unlike her good nature, when she said angrily the day before\nyesterday: 'There, he will keep waiting for you; he wouldn't drink his\ncoffee without you, though he's grown so dreadfully weak.'\"\n\n\"Yes, perhaps, too, she didn't like it when I gave him the rug. It was\nall so simple, but he took it so awkwardly, and was so long thanking me,\nthat I felt awkward too. And then that portrait of me he did so well.\nAnd most of all that look of confusion and tenderness! Yes, yes, that's\nit!\" Kitty repeated to herself with horror. \"No, it can't be, it\noughtn't to be! He's so much to be pitied!\" she said to herself directly\nafter.\n\nThis doubt poisoned the charm of her new life.\n\n\n\nChapter 34\n\n\nBefore the end of the course of drinking the waters, Prince\nShtcherbatsky, who had gone on from Carlsbad to Baden and Kissingen to\nRussian friends--to get a breath of Russian air, as he said--came back\nto his wife and daughter.\n\nThe views of the prince and of the princess on life abroad were\ncompletely opposed. The princess thought everything delightful, and in\nspite of her established position in Russian society, she tried abroad\nto be like a European fashionable lady, which she was not--for the\nsimple reason that she was a typical Russian gentlewoman; and so she was\naffected, which did not altogether suit her. The prince, on the\ncontrary, thought everything foreign detestable, got sick of European\nlife, kept to his Russian habits, and purposely tried to show himself\nabroad less European than he was in reality.\n\nThe prince returned thinner, with the skin hanging in loose bags on his\ncheeks, but in the most cheerful frame of mind. His good humor was even\ngreater when he saw Kitty completely recovered. The news of Kitty's\nfriendship with Madame Stahl and Varenka, and the reports the princess\ngave him of some kind of change she had noticed in Kitty, troubled the\nprince and aroused his habitual feeling of jealousy of everything that\ndrew his daughter away from him, and a dread that his daughter might\nhave got out of the reach of his influence into regions inaccessible to\nhim. But these unpleasant matters were all drowned in the sea of\nkindliness and good humor which was always within him, and more so than\never since his course of Carlsbad waters.\n\nThe day after his arrival the prince, in his long overcoat, with his\nRussian wrinkles and baggy cheeks propped up by a starched collar, set\noff with his daughter to the spring in the greatest good humor.\n\nIt was a lovely morning: the bright, cheerful houses with their little\ngardens, the sight of the red-faced, red-armed, beer-drinking German\nwaitresses, working away merrily, did the heart good. But the nearer\nthey got to the springs the oftener they met sick people; and their\nappearance seemed more pitiable than ever among the everyday conditions\nof prosperous German life. Kitty was no longer struck by this contrast.\nThe bright sun, the brilliant green of the foliage, the strains of the\nmusic were for her the natural setting of all these familiar faces, with\ntheir changes to greater emaciation or to convalescence, for which she\nwatched. But to the prince the brightness and gaiety of the June\nmorning, and the sound of the orchestra playing a gay waltz then in\nfashion, and above all, the appearance of the healthy attendants, seemed\nsomething unseemly and monstrous, in conjunction with these slowly\nmoving, dying figures gathered together from all parts of Europe. In\nspite of his feeling of pride and, as it were, of the return of youth,\nwith his favorite daughter on his arm, he felt awkward, and almost\nashamed of his vigorous step and his sturdy, stout limbs. He felt almost\nlike a man not dressed in a crowd.\n\n\"Present me to your new friends,\" he said to his daughter, squeezing her\nhand with his elbow. \"I like even your horrid Soden for making you so\nwell again. Only it's melancholy, very melancholy here. Who's that?\"\n\nKitty mentioned the names of all the people they met, with some of whom\nshe was acquainted and some not. At the entrance of the garden they met\nthe blind lady, Madame Berthe, with her guide, and the prince was\ndelighted to see the old Frenchwoman's face light up when she heard\nKitty's voice. She at once began talking to him with French exaggerated\npoliteness, applauding him for having such a delightful daughter,\nextolling Kitty to the skies before her face, and calling her a\ntreasure, a pearl, and a consoling angel.\n\n\"Well, she's the second angel, then,\" said the prince, smiling. \"she\ncalls Mademoiselle Varenka angel number one.\"\n\n\"Oh! Mademoiselle Varenka, she's a real angel, allez,\" Madame Berthe\nassented.\n\nIn the arcade they met Varenka herself. She was walking rapidly towards\nthem carrying an elegant red bag.\n\n\"Here is papa come,\" Kitty said to her.\n\nVarenka made--simply and naturally as she did everything--a movement\nbetween a bow and a curtsey, and immediately began talking to the\nprince, without shyness, naturally, as she talked to everyone.\n\n\"Of course I know you; I know you very well,\" the prince said to her\nwith a smile, in which Kitty detected with joy that her father liked her\nfriend. \"Where are you off to in such haste?\"\n\n\"Maman's here,\" she said, turning to Kitty. \"She has not slept all\nnight, and the doctor advised her to go out. I'm taking her her work.\"\n\n\"So that's angel number one?\" said the prince when Varenka had gone on.\n\nKitty saw that her father had meant to make fun of Varenka, but that he\ncould not do it because he liked her.\n\n\"Come, so we shall see all your friends,\" he went on, \"even Madame\nStahl, if she deigns to recognize me.\"\n\n\"Why, did you know her, papa?\" Kitty asked apprehensively, catching the\ngleam of irony that kindled in the prince's eyes at the mention of\nMadame Stahl.\n\n\"I used to know her husband, and her too a little, before she'd joined\nthe Pietists.\"\n\n\"What is a Pietist, papa?\" asked Kitty, dismayed to find that what she\nprized so highly in Madame Stahl had a name.\n\n\"I don't quite know myself. I only know that she thanks God for\neverything, for every misfortune, and thanks God too that her husband\ndied. And that's rather droll, as they didn't get on together.\"\n\n\"Who's that? What a piteous face!\" he asked, noticing a sick man of\nmedium height sitting on a bench, wearing a brown overcoat and white\ntrousers that fell in strange folds about his long, fleshless legs. This\nman lifted his straw hat, showed his scanty curly hair and high\nforehead, painfully reddened by the pressure of the hat.\n\n\"That's Petrov, an artist,\" answered Kitty, blushing. \"And that's his\nwife,\" she added, indicating Anna Pavlovna, who, as though on purpose,\nat the very instant they approached walked away after a child that had\nrun off along a path.\n\n\"Poor fellow! and what a nice face he has!\" said the prince. \"Why don't\nyou go up to him? He wanted to speak to you.\"\n\n\"Well, let us go, then,\" said Kitty, turning round resolutely. \"How are\nyou feeling today?\" she asked Petrov.\n\nPetrov got up, leaning on his stick, and looked shyly at the prince.\n\n\"This is my daughter,\" said the prince. \"Let me introduce myself.\"\n\nThe painter bowed and smiled, showing his strangely dazzling white\nteeth.\n\n\"We expected you yesterday, princess,\" he said to Kitty. He staggered as\nhe said this, and then repeated the motion, trying to make it seem as if\nit had been intentional.\n\n\"I meant to come, but Varenka said that Anna Pavlovna sent word you were\nnot going.\"\n\n\"Not going!\" said Petrov, blushing, and immediately beginning to cough,\nand his eyes sought his wife. \"Anita! Anita!\" he said loudly, and the\nswollen veins stood out like cords on his thin white neck.\n\nAnna Pavlovna came up.\n\n\"So you sent word to the princess that we weren't going!\" he whispered\nto her angrily, losing his voice.\n\n\"Good morning, princess,\" said Anna Pavlovna, with an assumed smile\nutterly unlike her former manner. \"Very glad to make your acquaintance,\"\nshe said to the prince. \"You've long been expected, prince.\"\n\n\"What did you send word to the princess that we weren't going for?\" the\nartist whispered hoarsely once more, still more angrily, obviously\nexasperated that his voice failed him so that he could not give his\nwords the expression he would have liked to.\n\n\"Oh, mercy on us! I thought we weren't going,\" his wife answered\ncrossly.\n\n\"What, when....\" He coughed and waved his hand. The prince took off his\nhat and moved away with his daughter.\n\n\"Ah! ah!\" he sighed deeply. \"Oh, poor things!\"\n\n\"Yes, papa,\" answered Kitty. \"And you must know they've three children,\nno servant, and scarcely any means. He gets something from the Academy,\"\nshe went on briskly, trying to drown the distress that the queer change\nin Anna Pavlovna's manner to her had aroused in her.\n\n\"Oh, here's Madame Stahl,\" said Kitty, indicating an invalid carriage,\nwhere, propped on pillows, something in gray and blue was lying under a\nsunshade. This was Madame Stahl. Behind her stood the gloomy,\nhealthy-looking German workman who pushed the carriage. Close by was\nstanding a flaxen-headed Swedish count, whom Kitty knew by name. Several\ninvalids were lingering near the low carriage, staring at the lady as\nthough she were some curiosity.\n\nThe prince went up to her, and Kitty detected that disconcerting gleam\nof irony in his eyes. He went up to Madame Stahl, and addressed her with\nextreme courtesy and affability in that excellent French that so few\nspeak nowadays.\n\n\"I don't know if you remember me, but I must recall myself to thank you\nfor your kindness to my daughter,\" he said, taking off his hat and not\nputting it on again.\n\n\"Prince Alexander Shtcherbatsky,\" said Madame Stahl, lifting upon him\nher heavenly eyes, in which Kitty discerned a look of annoyance.\n\"Delighted! I have taken a great fancy to your daughter.\"\n\n\"You are still in weak health?\"\n\n\"Yes; I'm used to it,\" said Madame Stahl, and she introduced the prince\nto the Swedish count.\n\n\"You are scarcely changed at all,\" the prince said to her. \"It's ten or\neleven years since I had the honor of seeing you.\"\n\n\"Yes; God sends the cross and sends the strength to bear it. Often one\nwonders what is the goal of this life?... The other side!\" she said\nangrily to Varenka, who had rearranged the rug over her feet not to her\nsatisfaction.\n\n\"To do good, probably,\" said the prince with a twinkle in his eye.\n\n\"That is not for us to judge,\" said Madame Stahl, perceiving the shade\nof expression on the prince's face. \"So you will send me that book, dear\ncount? I'm very grateful to you,\" she said to the young Swede.\n\n\"Ah!\" cried the prince, catching sight of the Moscow colonel standing\nnear, and with a bow to Madame Stahl he walked away with his daughter\nand the Moscow colonel, who joined them.\n\n\"That's our aristocracy, prince!\" the Moscow colonel said with ironical\nintention. He cherished a grudge against Madame Stahl for not making his\nacquaintance.\n\n\"She's just the same,\" replied the prince.\n\n\"Did you know her before her illness, prince--that's to say before she\ntook to her bed?\"\n\n\"Yes. She took to her bed before my eyes,\" said the prince.\n\n\"They say it's ten years since she has stood on her feet.\"\n\n\"She doesn't stand up because her legs are too short. She's a very bad\nfigure.\"\n\n\"Papa, it's not possible!\" cried Kitty.\n\n\"That's what wicked tongues say, my darling. And your Varenka catches it\ntoo,\" he added. \"Oh, these invalid ladies!\"\n\n\"Oh, no, papa!\" Kitty objected warmly. \"Varenka worships her. And then\nshe does so much good! Ask anyone! Everyone knows her and Aline Stahl.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" said the prince, squeezing her hand with his elbow; \"but\nit's better when one does good so that you may ask everyone and no one\nknows.\"\n\nKitty did not answer, not because she had nothing to say, but because\nshe did not care to reveal her secret thoughts even to her father. But,\nstrange to say, although she had so made up her mind not to be\ninfluenced by her father's views, not to let him into her inmost\nsanctuary, she felt that the heavenly image of Madame Stahl, which she\nhad carried for a whole month in her heart, had vanished, never to\nreturn, just as the fantastic figure made up of some clothes thrown down\nat random vanishes when one sees that it is only some garment lying\nthere. All that was left was a woman with short legs, who lay down\nbecause she had a bad figure, and worried patient Varenka for not\narranging her rug to her liking. And by no effort of the imagination\ncould Kitty bring back the former Madame Stahl.\n\n\n\nChapter 35\n\n\nThe prince communicated his good humor to his own family and his\nfriends, and even to the German landlord in whose rooms the\nShtcherbatskys were staying.\n\nOn coming back with Kitty from the springs, the prince, who had asked\nthe colonel, and Marya Yevgenyevna, and Varenka all to come and have\ncoffee with them, gave orders for a table and chairs to be taken into\nthe garden under the chestnut tree, and lunch to be laid there. The\nlandlord and the servants, too, grew brisker under the influence of his\ngood spirits. They knew his open-handedness; and half an hour later the\ninvalid doctor from Hamburg, who lived on the top floor, looked\nenviously out of the window at the merry party of healthy Russians\nassembled under the chestnut tree. In the trembling circles of shadow\ncast by the leaves, at a table, covered with a white cloth, and set with\ncoffeepot, bread-and-butter, cheese, and cold game, sat the princess in\na high cap with lilac ribbons, distributing cups and bread-and-butter.\nAt the other end sat the prince, eating heartily, and talking loudly and\nmerrily. The prince had spread out near him his purchases, carved boxes,\nand knick-knacks, paper-knives of all sorts, of which he bought a heap\nat every watering-place, and bestowed them upon everyone, including\nLieschen, the servant girl, and the landlord, with whom he jested in his\ncomically bad German, assuring him that it was not the water had cured\nKitty, but his splendid cookery, especially his plum soup. The princess\nlaughed at her husband for his Russian ways, but she was more lively and\ngood-humored than she had been all the while she had been at the waters.\nThe colonel smiled, as he always did, at the prince's jokes, but as far\nas regards Europe, of which he believed himself to be making a careful\nstudy, he took the princess's side. The simple-hearted Marya Yevgenyevna\nsimply roared with laughter at everything absurd the prince said, and\nhis jokes made Varenka helpless with feeble but infectious laughter,\nwhich was something Kitty had never seen before.\n\nKitty was glad of all this, but she could not be light-hearted. She\ncould not solve the problem her father had unconsciously set her by his\ngoodhumored view of her friends, and of the life that had so attracted\nher. To this doubt there was joined the change in her relations with the\nPetrovs, which had been so conspicuously and unpleasantly marked that\nmorning. Everyone was good humored, but Kitty could not feel good\nhumored, and this increased her distress. She felt a feeling such as she\nhad known in childhood, when she had been shut in her room as a\npunishment, and had heard her sisters' merry laughter outside.\n\n\"Well, but what did you buy this mass of things for?\" said the princess,\nsmiling, and handing her husband a cup of coffee.\n\n\"One goes for a walk, one looks in a shop, and they ask you to buy.\n'_Erlaucht, Durchlaucht?_' Directly they say '_Durchlaucht_,' I can't\nhold out. I lose ten thalers.\"\n\n\"It's simply from boredom,\" said the princess.\n\n\"Of course it is. Such boredom, my dear, that one doesn't know what to\ndo with oneself.\"\n\n\"How can you be bored, prince? There's so much that's interesting now in\nGermany,\" said Marya Yevgenyevna.\n\n\"But I know everything that's interesting: the plum soup I know, and the\npea sausages I know. I know everything.\"\n\n\"No, you may say what you like, prince, there's the interest of their\ninstitutions,\" said the colonel.\n\n\"But what is there interesting about it? They're all as pleased as brass\nhalfpence. They've conquered everybody, and why am I to be pleased at\nthat? I haven't conquered anyone; and I'm obliged to take off my own\nboots, yes, and put them away too; in the morning, get up and dress at\nonce, and go to the dining room to drink bad tea! How different it is at\nhome! You get up in no haste, you get cross, grumble a little, and come\nround again. You've time to think things over, and no hurry.\"\n\n\"But time's money, you forget that,\" said the colonel.\n\n\"Time, indeed, that depends! Why, there's time one would give a month of\nfor sixpence, and time you wouldn't give half an hour of for any money.\nIsn't that so, Katinka? What is it? why are you so depressed?\"\n\n\"I'm not depressed.\"\n\n\"Where are you off to? Stay a little longer,\" he said to Varenka.\n\n\"I must be going home,\" said Varenka, getting up, and again she went off\ninto a giggle. When she had recovered, she said good-bye, and went into\nthe house to get her hat.\n\nKitty followed her. Even Varenka struck her as different. She was not\nworse, but different from what she had fancied her before.\n\n\"Oh, dear! it's a long while since I've laughed so much!\" said Varenka,\ngathering up her parasol and her bag. \"How nice he is, your father!\"\n\nKitty did not speak.\n\n\"When shall I see you again?\" asked Varenka.\n\n\"Mamma meant to go and see the Petrovs. Won't you be there?\" said Kitty,\nto try Varenka.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Varenka. \"They're getting ready to go away, so I\npromised to help them pack.\"\n\n\"Well, I'll come too, then.\"\n\n\"No, why should you?\"\n\n\"Why not? why not? why not?\" said Kitty, opening her eyes wide, and\nclutching at Varenka's parasol, so as not to let her go. \"No, wait a\nminute; why not?\"\n\n\"Oh, nothing; your father has come, and besides, they will feel awkward\nat your helping.\"\n\n\"No, tell me why you don't want me to be often at the Petrovs'. You\ndon't want me to--why not?\"\n\n\"I didn't say that,\" said Varenka quietly.\n\n\"No, please tell me!\"\n\n\"Tell you everything?\" asked Varenka.\n\n\"Everything, everything!\" Kitty assented.\n\n\"Well, there's really nothing of any consequence; only that Mihail\nAlexeyevitch\" (that was the artist's name) \"had meant to leave earlier,\nand now he doesn't want to go away,\" said Varenka, smiling.\n\n\"Well, well!\" Kitty urged impatiently, looking darkly at Varenka.\n\n\"Well, and for some reason Anna Pavlovna told him that he didn't want to\ngo because you are here. Of course, that was nonsense; but there was a\ndispute over it--over you. You know how irritable these sick people\nare.\"\n\nKitty, scowling more than ever, kept silent, and Varenka went on\nspeaking alone, trying to soften or soothe her, and seeing a storm\ncoming--she did not know whether of tears or of words.\n\n\"So you'd better not go.... You understand; you won't be offended?...\"\n\n\"And it serves me right! And it serves me right!\" Kitty cried quickly,\nsnatching the parasol out of Varenka's hand, and looking past her\nfriend's face.\n\nVarenka felt inclined to smile, looking at her childish fury, but she\nwas afraid of wounding her.\n\n\"How does it serve you right? I don't understand,\" she said.\n\n\"It serves me right, because it was all sham; because it was all done on\npurpose, and not from the heart. What business had I to interfere with\noutsiders? And so it's come about that I'm a cause of quarrel, and that\nI've done what nobody asked me to do. Because it was all a sham! a sham!\na sham!...\"\n\n\"A sham! with what object?\" said Varenka gently.\n\n\"Oh, it's so idiotic! so hateful! There was no need whatever for me....\nNothing but sham!\" she said, opening and shutting the parasol.\n\n\"But with what object?\"\n\n\"To seem better to people, to myself, to God; to deceive everyone. No!\nnow I won't descend to that. I'll be bad; but anyway not a liar, a\ncheat.\"\n\n\"But who is a cheat?\" said Varenka reproachfully. \"You speak as if...\"\n\nBut Kitty was in one of her gusts of fury, and she would not let her\nfinish.\n\n\"I don't talk about you, not about you at all. You're perfection. Yes,\nyes, I know you're all perfection; but what am I to do if I'm bad? This\nwould never have been if I weren't bad. So let me be what I am. I won't\nbe a sham. What have I to do with Anna Pavlovna? Let them go their way,\nand me go mine. I can't be different.... And yet it's not that, it's not\nthat.\"\n\n\"What is not that?\" asked Varenka in bewilderment.\n\n\"Everything. I can't act except from the heart, and you act from\nprinciple. I liked you simply, but you most likely only wanted to save\nme, to improve me.\"\n\n\"You are unjust,\" said Varenka.\n\n\"But I'm not speaking of other people, I'm speaking of myself.\"\n\n\"Kitty,\" they heard her mother's voice, \"come here, show papa your\nnecklace.\"\n\nKitty, with a haughty air, without making peace with her friend, took\nthe necklace in a little box from the table and went to her mother.\n\n\"What's the matter? Why are you so red?\" her mother and father said to\nher with one voice.\n\n\"Nothing,\" she answered. \"I'll be back directly,\" and she ran back.\n\n\"She's still here,\" she thought. \"What am I to say to her? Oh, dear!\nwhat have I done, what have I said? Why was I rude to her? What am I to\ndo? What am I to say to her?\" thought Kitty, and she stopped in the\ndoorway.\n\nVarenka in her hat and with the parasol in her hands was sitting at the\ntable examining the spring which Kitty had broken. She lifted her head.\n\n\"Varenka, forgive me, do forgive me,\" whispered Kitty, going up to her.\n\"I don't remember what I said. I...\"\n\n\"I really didn't mean to hurt you,\" said Varenka, smiling.\n\nPeace was made. But with her father's coming all the world in which she\nhad been living was transformed for Kitty. She did not give up\neverything she had learned, but she became aware that she had deceived\nherself in supposing she could be what she wanted to be. Her eyes were,\nit seemed, opened; she felt all the difficulty of maintaining herself\nwithout hypocrisy and self-conceit on the pinnacle to which she had\nwished to mount. Moreover, she became aware of all the dreariness of the\nworld of sorrow, of sick and dying people, in which she had been living.\nThe efforts she had made to like it seemed to her intolerable, and she\nfelt a longing to get back quickly into the fresh air, to Russia, to\nErgushovo, where, as she knew from letters, her sister Dolly had already\ngone with her children.\n\nBut her affection for Varenka did not wane. As she said good-bye, Kitty\nbegged her to come to them in Russia.\n\n\"I'll come when you get married,\" said Varenka.\n\n\"I shall never marry.\"\n\n\"Well, then, I shall never come.\"\n\n\"Well, then, I shall be married simply for that. Mind now, remember your\npromise,\" said Kitty.\n\nThe doctor's prediction was fulfilled. Kitty returned home to Russia\ncured. She was not so gay and thoughtless as before, but she was serene.\nHer Moscow troubles had become a memory to her.\n\n\n\n\nPART THREE\n\n\n\nChapter 1\n\n\nSergey Ivanovitch Koznishev wanted a rest from mental work, and instead\nof going abroad as he usually did, he came towards the end of May to\nstay in the country with his brother. In his judgment the best sort of\nlife was a country life. He had come now to enjoy such a life at his\nbrother's. Konstantin Levin was very glad to have him, especially as he\ndid not expect his brother Nikolay that summer. But in spite of his\naffection and respect for Sergey Ivanovitch, Konstantin Levin was\nuncomfortable with his brother in the country. It made him\nuncomfortable, and it positively annoyed him to see his brother's\nattitude to the country. To Konstantin Levin the country was the\nbackground of life, that is of pleasures, endeavors, labor. To Sergey\nIvanovitch the country meant on one hand rest from work, on the other a\nvaluable antidote to the corrupt influences of town, which he took with\nsatisfaction and a sense of its utility. To Konstantin Levin the country\nwas good first because it afforded a field for labor, of the usefulness\nof which there could be no doubt. To Sergey Ivanovitch the country was\nparticularly good, because there it was possible and fitting to do\nnothing. Moreover, Sergey Ivanovitch's attitude to the peasants rather\npiqued Konstantin. Sergey Ivanovitch used to say that he knew and liked\nthe peasantry, and he often talked to the peasants, which he knew how to\ndo without affectation or condescension, and from every such\nconversation he would deduce general conclusions in favor of the\npeasantry and in confirmation of his knowing them. Konstantin Levin did\nnot like such an attitude to the peasants. To Konstantin the peasant was\nsimply the chief partner in their common labor, and in spite of all the\nrespect and the love, almost like that of kinship, he had for the\npeasant--sucked in probably, as he said himself, with the milk of his\npeasant nurse--still as a fellow-worker with him, while sometimes\nenthusiastic over the vigor, gentleness, and justice of these men, he\nwas very often, when their common labors called for other qualities,\nexasperated with the peasant for his carelessness, lack of method,\ndrunkenness, and lying. If he had been asked whether he liked or didn't\nlike the peasants, Konstantin Levin would have been absolutely at a loss\nwhat to reply. He liked and did not like the peasants, just as he liked\nand did not like men in general. Of course, being a good-hearted man, he\nliked men rather than he disliked them, and so too with the peasants.\nBut like or dislike \"the people\" as something apart he could not, not\nonly because he lived with \"the people,\" and all his interests were\nbound up with theirs, but also because he regarded himself as a part of\n\"the people,\" did not see any special qualities or failings\ndistinguishing himself and \"the people,\" and could not contrast himself\nwith them. Moreover, although he had lived so long in the closest\nrelations with the peasants, as farmer and arbitrator, and what was\nmore, as adviser (the peasants trusted him, and for thirty miles round\nthey would come to ask his advice), he had no definite views of \"the\npeople,\" and would have been as much at a loss to answer the question\nwhether he knew \"the people\" as the question whether he liked them. For\nhim to say he knew the peasantry would have been the same as to say he\nknew men. He was continually watching and getting to know people of all\nsorts, and among them peasants, whom he regarded as good and interesting\npeople, and he was continually observing new points in them, altering\nhis former views of them and forming new ones. With Sergey Ivanovitch it\nwas quite the contrary. Just as he liked and praised a country life in\ncomparison with the life he did not like, so too he liked the peasantry\nin contradistinction to the class of men he did not like, and so too he\nknew the peasantry as something distinct from and opposed to men\ngenerally. In his methodical brain there were distinctly formulated\ncertain aspects of peasant life, deduced partly from that life itself,\nbut chiefly from contrast with other modes of life. He never changed his\nopinion of the peasantry and his sympathetic attitude towards them.\n\nIn the discussions that arose between the brothers on their views of the\npeasantry, Sergey Ivanovitch always got the better of his brother,\nprecisely because Sergey Ivanovitch had definite ideas about the\npeasant--his character, his qualities, and his tastes. Konstantin Levin\nhad no definite and unalterable idea on the subject, and so in their\narguments Konstantin was readily convicted of contradicting himself.\n\nIn Sergey Ivanovitch's eyes his younger brother was a capital fellow,\n_with his heart in the right place_ (as he expressed it in French), but\nwith a mind which, though fairly quick, was too much influenced by the\nimpressions of the moment, and consequently filled with contradictions.\nWith all the condescension of an elder brother he sometimes explained to\nhim the true import of things, but he derived little satisfaction from\narguing with him because he got the better of him too easily.\n\nKonstantin Levin regarded his brother as a man of immense intellect and\nculture, as generous in the highest sense of the word, and possessed of\na special faculty for working for the public good. But in the depths of\nhis heart, the older he became, and the more intimately he knew his\nbrother, the more and more frequently the thought struck him that this\nfaculty of working for the public good, of which he felt himself utterly\ndevoid, was possibly not so much a quality as a lack of something--not a\nlack of good, honest, noble desires and tastes, but a lack of vital\nforce, of what is called heart, of that impulse which drives a man to\nchoose someone out of the innumerable paths of life, and to care only\nfor that one. The better he knew his brother, the more he noticed that\nSergey Ivanovitch, and many other people who worked for the public\nwelfare, were not led by an impulse of the heart to care for the public\ngood, but reasoned from intellectual considerations that it was a right\nthing to take interest in public affairs, and consequently took interest\nin them. Levin was confirmed in this generalization by observing that\nhis brother did not take questions affecting the public welfare or the\nquestion of the immortality of the soul a bit more to heart than he did\nchess problems, or the ingenious construction of a new machine.\n\nBesides this, Konstantin Levin was not at his ease with his brother,\nbecause in summer in the country Levin was continually busy with work on\nthe land, and the long summer day was not long enough for him to get\nthrough all he had to do, while Sergey Ivanovitch was taking a holiday.\nBut though he was taking a holiday now, that is to say, he was doing no\nwriting, he was so used to intellectual activity that he liked to put\ninto concise and eloquent shape the ideas that occurred to him, and\nliked to have someone to listen to him. His most usual and natural\nlistener was his brother. And so in spite of the friendliness and\ndirectness of their relations, Konstantin felt an awkwardness in leaving\nhim alone. Sergey Ivanovitch liked to stretch himself on the grass in\nthe sun, and to lie so, basking and chatting lazily.\n\n\"You wouldn't believe,\" he would say to his brother, \"what a pleasure\nthis rural laziness is to me. Not an idea in one's brain, as empty as a\ndrum!\"\n\nBut Konstantin Levin found it dull sitting and listening to him,\nespecially when he knew that while he was away they would be carting\ndung onto the fields not ploughed ready for it, and heaping it all up\nanyhow; and would not screw the shares in the ploughs, but would let\nthem come off and then say that the new ploughs were a silly invention,\nand there was nothing like the old Andreevna plough, and so on.\n\n\"Come, you've done enough trudging about in the heat,\" Sergey Ivanovitch\nwould say to him.\n\n\"No, I must just run round to the counting-house for a minute,\" Levin\nwould answer, and he would run off to the fields.\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\n\nEarly in June it happened that Agafea Mihalovna, the old nurse and\nhousekeeper, in carrying to the cellar a jar of mushrooms she had just\npickled, slipped, fell, and sprained her wrist. The district doctor, a\ntalkative young medical student, who had just finished his studies, came\nto see her. He examined the wrist, said it was not broken, was delighted\nat a chance of talking to the celebrated Sergey Ivanovitch Koznishev,\nand to show his advanced views of things told him all the scandal of the\ndistrict, complaining of the poor state into which the district council\nhad fallen. Sergey Ivanovitch listened attentively, asked him questions,\nand, roused by a new listener, he talked fluently, uttered a few keen\nand weighty observations, respectfully appreciated by the young doctor,\nand was soon in that eager frame of mind his brother knew so well, which\nalways, with him, followed a brilliant and eager conversation. After the\ndeparture of the doctor, he wanted to go with a fishing rod to the\nriver. Sergey Ivanovitch was fond of angling, and was, it seemed, proud\nof being able to care for such a stupid occupation.\n\nKonstantin Levin, whose presence was needed in the plough land and\nmeadows, had come to take his brother in the trap.\n\nIt was that time of the year, the turning-point of summer, when the\ncrops of the present year are a certainty, when one begins to think of\nthe sowing for next year, and the mowing is at hand; when the rye is all\nin ear, though its ears are still light, not yet full, and it waves in\ngray-green billows in the wind; when the green oats, with tufts of\nyellow grass scattered here and there among it, droop irregularly over\nthe late-sown fields; when the early buckwheat is already out and hiding\nthe ground; when the fallow lands, trodden hard as stone by the cattle,\nare half ploughed over, with paths left untouched by the plough; when\nfrom the dry dung-heaps carted onto the fields there comes at sunset a\nsmell of manure mixed with meadow-sweet, and on the low-lying lands the\nriverside meadows are a thick sea of grass waiting for the mowing, with\nblackened heaps of the stalks of sorrel among it.\n\nIt was the time when there comes a brief pause in the toil of the fields\nbefore the beginning of the labors of harvest--every year recurring,\nevery year straining every nerve of the peasants. The crop was a\nsplendid one, and bright, hot summer days had set in with short, dewy\nnights.\n\nThe brothers had to drive through the woods to reach the meadows. Sergey\nIvanovitch was all the while admiring the beauty of the woods, which\nwere a tangled mass of leaves, pointing out to his brother now an old\nlime tree on the point of flowering, dark on the shady side, and\nbrightly spotted with yellow stipules, now the young shoots of this\nyear's saplings brilliant with emerald. Konstantin Levin did not like\ntalking and hearing about the beauty of nature. Words for him took away\nthe beauty of what he saw. He assented to what his brother said, but he\ncould not help beginning to think of other things. When they came out of\nthe woods, all his attention was engrossed by the view of the fallow\nland on the upland, in parts yellow with grass, in parts trampled and\ncheckered with furrows, in parts dotted with ridges of dung, and in\nparts even ploughed. A string of carts was moving across it. Levin\ncounted the carts, and was pleased that all that were wanted had been\nbrought, and at the sight of the meadows his thoughts passed to the\nmowing. He always felt something special moving him to the quick at the\nhay-making. On reaching the meadow Levin stopped the horse.\n\nThe morning dew was still lying on the thick undergrowth of the grass,\nand that he might not get his feet wet, Sergey Ivanovitch asked his\nbrother to drive him in the trap up to the willow tree from which the\ncarp was caught. Sorry as Konstantin Levin was to crush down his mowing\ngrass, he drove him into the meadow. The high grass softly turned about\nthe wheels and the horse's legs, leaving its seeds clinging to the wet\naxles and spokes of the wheels. His brother seated himself under a bush,\narranging his tackle, while Levin led the horse away, fastened him up,\nand walked into the vast gray-green sea of grass unstirred by the wind.\nThe silky grass with its ripe seeds came almost to his waist in the\ndampest spots.\n\nCrossing the meadow, Konstantin Levin came out onto the road, and met an\nold man with a swollen eye, carrying a skep on his shoulder.\n\n\"What? taken a stray swarm, Fomitch?\" he asked.\n\n\"No, indeed, Konstantin Dmitrich! All we can do to keep our own! This is\nthe second swarm that has flown away.... Luckily the lads caught them.\nThey were ploughing your field. They unyoked the horses and galloped\nafter them.\"\n\n\"Well, what do you say, Fomitch--start mowing or wait a bit?\"\n\n\"Eh, well. Our way's to wait till St. Peter's Day. But you always mow\nsooner. Well, to be sure, please God, the hay's good. There'll be plenty\nfor the beasts.\"\n\n\"What do you think about the weather?\"\n\n\"That's in God's hands. Maybe it will be fine.\"\n\nLevin went up to his brother.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch had caught nothing, but he was not bored, and seemed\nin the most cheerful frame of mind. Levin saw that, stimulated by his\nconversation with the doctor, he wanted to talk. Levin, on the other\nhand, would have liked to get home as soon as possible to give orders\nabout getting together the mowers for next day, and to set at rest his\ndoubts about the mowing, which greatly absorbed him.\n\n\"Well, let's be going,\" he said.\n\n\"Why be in such a hurry? Let's stay a little. But how wet you are! Even\nthough one catches nothing, it's nice. That's the best thing about every\npart of sport, that one has to do with nature. How exquisite this steely\nwater is!\" said Sergey Ivanovitch. \"These riverside banks always remind\nme of the riddle--do you know it? 'The grass says to the water: we\nquiver and we quiver.'\"\n\n\"I don't know the riddle,\" answered Levin wearily.\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\n\n\"Do you know, I've been thinking about you,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\"It's beyond everything what's being done in the district, according to\nwhat this doctor tells me. He's a very intelligent fellow. And as I've\ntold you before, I tell you again: it's not right for you not to go to\nthe meetings, and altogether to keep out of the district business. If\ndecent people won't go into it, of course it's bound to go all wrong. We\npay the money, and it all goes in salaries, and there are no schools,\nnor district nurses, nor midwives, nor drugstores--nothing.\"\n\n\"Well, I did try, you know,\" Levin said slowly and unwillingly. \"I\ncan't! and so there's no help for it.\"\n\n\"But why can't you? I must own I can't make it out. Indifference,\nincapacity--I won't admit; surely it's not simply laziness?\"\n\n\"None of those things. I've tried, and I see I can do nothing,\" said\nLevin.\n\nHe had hardly grasped what his brother was saying. Looking towards the\nplough land across the river, he made out something black, but he could\nnot distinguish whether it was a horse or the bailiff on horseback.\n\n\"Why is it you can do nothing? You made an attempt and didn't succeed,\nas you think, and you give in. How can you have so little self-respect?\"\n\n\"Self-respect!\" said Levin, stung to the quick by his brother's words;\n\"I don't understand. If they'd told me at college that other people\nunderstood the integral calculus, and I didn't, then pride would have\ncome in. But in this case one wants first to be convinced that one has\ncertain qualifications for this sort of business, and especially that\nall this business is of great importance.\"\n\n\"What! do you mean to say it's not of importance?\" said Sergey\nIvanovitch, stung to the quick too at his brother's considering anything\nof no importance that interested him, and still more at his obviously\npaying little attention to what he was saying.\n\n\"I don't think it important; it does not take hold of me, I can't help\nit,\" answered Levin, making out that what he saw was the bailiff, and\nthat the bailiff seemed to be letting the peasants go off the ploughed\nland. They were turning the plough over. \"Can they have finished\nploughing?\" he wondered.\n\n\"Come, really though,\" said the elder brother, with a frown on his\nhandsome, clever face, \"there's a limit to everything. It's very well to\nbe original and genuine, and to dislike everything conventional--I know\nall about that; but really, what you're saying either has no meaning, or\nit has a very wrong meaning. How can you think it a matter of no\nimportance whether the peasant, whom you love as you assert...\"\n\n\"I never did assert it,\" thought Konstantin Levin.\n\n\"... dies without help? The ignorant peasant-women starve the children,\nand the people stagnate in darkness, and are helpless in the hands of\nevery village clerk, while you have at your disposal a means of helping\nthem, and don't help them because to your mind it's of no importance.\"\n\nAnd Sergey Ivanovitch put before him the alternative: either you are so\nundeveloped that you can't see all that you can do, or you won't\nsacrifice your ease, your vanity, or whatever it is, to do it.\n\nKonstantin Levin felt that there was no course open to him but to\nsubmit, or to confess to a lack of zeal for the public good. And this\nmortified him and hurt his feelings.\n\n\"It's both,\" he said resolutely: \"I don't see that it was possible...\"\n\n\"What! was it impossible, if the money were properly laid out, to\nprovide medical aid?\"\n\n\"Impossible, as it seems to me.... For the three thousand square miles\nof our district, what with our thaws, and the storms, and the work in\nthe fields, I don't see how it is possible to provide medical aid all\nover. And besides, I don't believe in medicine.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, that's unfair ... I can quote to you thousands of\ninstances.... But the schools, anyway.\"\n\n\"Why have schools?\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Can there be two opinions of the advantage of\neducation? If it's a good thing for you, it's a good thing for\neveryone.\"\n\nKonstantin Levin felt himself morally pinned against a wall, and so he\ngot hot, and unconsciously blurted out the chief cause of his\nindifference to public business.\n\n\"Perhaps it may all be very good; but why should I worry myself about\nestablishing dispensaries which I shall never make use of, and schools\nto which I shall never send my children, to which even the peasants\ndon't want to send their children, and to which I've no very firm faith\nthat they ought to send them?\" said he.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch was for a minute surprised at this unexpected view of\nthe subject; but he promptly made a new plan of attack. He was silent\nfor a little, drew out a hook, threw it in again, and turned to his\nbrother smiling.\n\n\"Come, now.... In the first place, the dispensary is needed. We\nourselves sent for the district doctor for Agafea Mihalovna.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, but I fancy her wrist will never be straight again.\"\n\n\"That remains to be proved.... Next, the peasant who can read and write\nis as a workman of more use and value to you.\"\n\n\"No, you can ask anyone you like,\" Konstantin Levin answered with\ndecision, \"the man that can read and write is much inferior as a\nworkman. And mending the highroads is an impossibility; and as soon as\nthey put up bridges they're stolen.\"\n\n\"Still, that's not the point,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, frowning. He\ndisliked contradiction, and still more, arguments that were continually\nskipping from one thing to another, introducing new and disconnected\npoints, so that there was no knowing to which to reply. \"Do you admit\nthat education is a benefit for the people?\"\n\n\"Yes, I admit it,\" said Levin without thinking, and he was conscious\nimmediately that he had said what he did not think. He felt that if he\nadmitted that, it would be proved that he had been talking meaningless\nrubbish. How it would be proved he could not tell, but he knew that this\nwould inevitably be logically proved to him, and he awaited the proofs.\n\nThe argument turned out to be far simpler than he had expected.\n\n\"If you admit that it is a benefit,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, \"then, as\nan honest man, you cannot help caring about it and sympathizing with the\nmovement, and so wishing to work for it.\"\n\n\"But I still do not admit this movement to be just,\" said Konstantin\nLevin, reddening a little.\n\n\"What! But you said just now...\"\n\n\"That's to say, I don't admit it's being either good or possible.\"\n\n\"That you can't tell without making the trial.\"\n\n\"Well, supposing that's so,\" said Levin, though he did not suppose so at\nall, \"supposing that is so, still I don't see, all the same, what I'm to\nworry myself about it for.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"No; since we are talking, explain it to me from the philosophical point\nof view,\" said Levin.\n\n\"I can't see where philosophy comes in,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, in a\ntone, Levin fancied, as though he did not admit his brother's right to\ntalk about philosophy. And that irritated Levin.\n\n\"I'll tell you, then,\" he said with heat, \"I imagine the mainspring of\nall our actions is, after all, self-interest. Now in the local\ninstitutions I, as a nobleman, see nothing that could conduce to my\nprosperity, and the roads are not better and could not be better; my\nhorses carry me well enough over bad ones. Doctors and dispensaries are\nno use to me. An arbitrator of disputes is no use to me. I never appeal\nto him, and never shall appeal to him. The schools are no good to me,\nbut positively harmful, as I told you. For me the district institutions\nsimply mean the liability to pay fourpence halfpenny for every three\nacres, to drive into the town, sleep with bugs, and listen to all sorts\nof idiocy and loathsomeness, and self-interest offers me no inducement.\"\n\n\"Excuse me,\" Sergey Ivanovitch interposed with a smile, \"self-interest\ndid not induce us to work for the emancipation of the serfs, but we did\nwork for it.\"\n\n\"No!\" Konstantin Levin broke in with still greater heat; \"the\nemancipation of the serfs was a different matter. There self-interest\ndid come in. One longed to throw off that yoke that crushed us, all\ndecent people among us. But to be a town councilor and discuss how many\ndustmen are needed, and how chimneys shall be constructed in the town in\nwhich I don't live--to serve on a jury and try a peasant who's stolen a\nflitch of bacon, and listen for six hours at a stretch to all sorts of\njabber from the counsel for the defense and the prosecution, and the\npresident cross-examining my old half-witted Alioshka, 'Do you admit,\nprisoner in the dock, the fact of the removal of the bacon?' 'Eh?'\"\n\nKonstantin Levin had warmed to his subject, and began mimicking the\npresident and the half-witted Alioshka: it seemed to him that it was all\nto the point.\n\nBut Sergey Ivanovitch shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\"Well, what do you mean to say, then?\"\n\n\"I simply mean to say that those rights that touch me ... my interest, I\nshall always defend to the best of my ability; that when they made raids\non us students, and the police read our letters, I was ready to defend\nthose rights to the utmost, to defend my rights to education and\nfreedom. I can understand compulsory military service, which affects my\nchildren, my brothers, and myself, I am ready to deliberate on what\nconcerns me; but deliberating on how to spend forty thousand roubles of\ndistrict council money, or judging the half-witted Alioshka--I don't\nunderstand, and I can't do it.\"\n\nKonstantin Levin spoke as though the floodgates of his speech had burst\nopen. Sergey Ivanovitch smiled.\n\n\"But tomorrow it'll be your turn to be tried; would it have suited your\ntastes better to be tried in the old criminal tribunal?\"\n\n\"I'm not going to be tried. I shan't murder anybody, and I've no need of\nit. Well, I tell you what,\" he went on, flying off again to a subject\nquite beside the point, \"our district self-government and all the rest\nof it--it's just like the birch branches we stick in the ground on\nTrinity Day, for instance, to look like a copse which has grown up of\nitself in Europe, and I can't gush over these birch branches and believe\nin them.\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch merely shrugged his shoulders, as though to express\nhis wonder how the birch branches had come into their argument at that\npoint, though he did really understand at once what his brother meant.\n\n\"Excuse me, but you know one really can't argue in that way,\" he\nobserved.\n\nBut Konstantin Levin wanted to justify himself for the failing, of which\nhe was conscious, of lack of zeal for the public welfare, and he went\non.\n\n\"I imagine,\" he said, \"that no sort of activity is likely to be lasting\nif it is not founded on self-interest, that's a universal principle, a\nphilosophical principle,\" he said, repeating the word \"philosophical\"\nwith determination, as though wishing to show that he had as much right\nas any one else to talk of philosophy.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch smiled. \"He too has a philosophy of his own at the\nservice of his natural tendencies,\" he thought.\n\n\"Come, you'd better let philosophy alone,\" he said. \"The chief problem\nof the philosophy of all ages consists just in finding the indispensable\nconnection which exists between individual and social interests. But\nthat's not to the point; what is to the point is a correction I must\nmake in your comparison. The birches are not simply stuck in, but some\nare sown and some are planted, and one must deal carefully with them.\nIt's only those peoples that have an intuitive sense of what's of\nimportance and significance in their institutions, and know how to value\nthem, that have a future before them--it's only those peoples that one\ncan truly call historical.\"\n\nAnd Sergey Ivanovitch carried the subject into the regions of\nphilosophical history where Konstantin Levin could not follow him, and\nshowed him all the incorrectness of his view.\n\n\"As for your dislike of it, excuse my saying so, that's simply our\nRussian sloth and old serf-owner's ways, and I'm convinced that in you\nit's a temporary error and will pass.\"\n\nKonstantin was silent. He felt himself vanquished on all sides, but he\nfelt at the same time that what he wanted to say was unintelligible to\nhis brother. Only he could not make up his mind whether it was\nunintelligible because he was not capable of expressing his meaning\nclearly, or because his brother would not or could not understand him.\nBut he did not pursue the speculation, and without replying, he fell to\nmusing on a quite different and personal matter.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch wound up the last line, untied the horse, and they\ndrove off.\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\n\nThe personal matter that absorbed Levin during his conversation with his\nbrother was this. Once in a previous year he had gone to look at the\nmowing, and being made very angry by the bailiff he had recourse to his\nfavorite means for regaining his temper,--he took a scythe from a\npeasant and began mowing.\n\nHe liked the work so much that he had several times tried his hand at\nmowing since. He had cut the whole of the meadow in front of his house,\nand this year ever since the early spring he had cherished a plan for\nmowing for whole days together with the peasants. Ever since his\nbrother's arrival, he had been in doubt whether to mow or not. He was\nloath to leave his brother alone all day long, and he was afraid his\nbrother would laugh at him about it. But as he drove into the meadow,\nand recalled the sensations of mowing, he came near deciding that he\nwould go mowing. After the irritating discussion with his brother, he\npondered over this intention again.\n\n\"I must have physical exercise, or my temper'll certainly be ruined,\" he\nthought, and he determined he would go mowing, however awkward he might\nfeel about it with his brother or the peasants.\n\nTowards evening Konstantin Levin went to his counting house, gave\ndirections as to the work to be done, and sent about the village to\nsummon the mowers for the morrow, to cut the hay in Kalinov meadow, the\nlargest and best of his grass lands.\n\n\"And send my scythe, please, to Tit, for him to set it, and bring it\nround tomorrow. I shall maybe do some mowing myself too,\" he said,\ntrying not to be embarrassed.\n\nThe bailiff smiled and said: \"Yes, sir.\"\n\nAt tea the same evening Levin said to his brother:\n\n\"I fancy the fine weather will last. Tomorrow I shall start mowing.\"\n\n\"I'm so fond of that form of field labor,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"I'm awfully fond of it. I sometimes mow myself with the peasants, and\ntomorrow I want to try mowing the whole day.\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch lifted his head, and looked with interest at his\nbrother.\n\n\"How do you mean? Just like one of the peasants, all day long?\"\n\n\"Yes, it's very pleasant,\" said Levin.\n\n\"It's splendid as exercise, only you'll hardly be able to stand it,\"\nsaid Sergey Ivanovitch, without a shade of irony.\n\n\"I've tried it. It's hard work at first, but you get into it. I dare say\nI shall manage to keep it up...\"\n\n\"Really! what an idea! But tell me, how do the peasants look at it? I\nsuppose they laugh in their sleeves at their master's being such a queer\nfish?\"\n\n\"No, I don't think so; but it's so delightful, and at the same time such\nhard work, that one has no time to think about it.\"\n\n\"But how will you do about dining with them? To send you a bottle of\nLafitte and roast turkey out there would be a little awkward.\"\n\n\"No, I'll simply come home at the time of their noonday rest.\"\n\nNext morning Konstantin Levin got up earlier than usual, but he was\ndetained giving directions on the farm, and when he reached the mowing\ngrass the mowers were already at their second row.\n\nFrom the uplands he could get a view of the shaded cut part of the\nmeadow below, with its grayish ridges of cut grass, and the black heaps\nof coats, taken off by the mowers at the place from which they had\nstarted cutting.\n\nGradually, as he rode towards the meadow, the peasants came into sight,\nsome in coats, some in their shirts mowing, one behind another in a long\nstring, swinging their scythes differently. He counted forty-two of\nthem.\n\nThey were mowing slowly over the uneven, low-lying parts of the meadow,\nwhere there had been an old dam. Levin recognized some of his own men.\nHere was old Yermil in a very long white smock, bending forward to swing\na scythe; there was a young fellow, Vaska, who had been a coachman of\nLevin's, taking every row with a wide sweep. Here, too, was Tit, Levin's\npreceptor in the art of mowing, a thin little peasant. He was in front\nof all, and cut his wide row without bending, as though playing with the\nscythe.\n\nLevin got off his mare, and fastening her up by the roadside went to\nmeet Tit, who took a second scythe out of a bush and gave it to him.\n\n\"It's ready, sir; it's like a razor, cuts of itself,\" said Tit, taking\noff his cap with a smile and giving him the scythe.\n\nLevin took the scythe, and began trying it. As they finished their rows,\nthe mowers, hot and good-humored, came out into the road one after\nanother, and, laughing a little, greeted the master. They all stared at\nhim, but no one made any remark, till a tall old man, with a wrinkled,\nbeardless face, wearing a short sheepskin jacket, came out into the road\nand accosted him.\n\n\"Look'ee now, master, once take hold of the rope there's no letting it\ngo!\" he said, and Levin heard smothered laughter among the mowers.\n\n\"I'll try not to let it go,\" he said, taking his stand behind Tit, and\nwaiting for the time to begin.\n\n\"Mind'ee,\" repeated the old man.\n\nTit made room, and Levin started behind him. The grass was short close\nto the road, and Levin, who had not done any mowing for a long while,\nand was disconcerted by the eyes fastened upon him, cut badly for the\nfirst moments, though he swung his scythe vigorously. Behind him he\nheard voices:\n\n\"It's not set right; handle's too high; see how he has to stoop to it,\"\nsaid one.\n\n\"Press more on the heel,\" said another.\n\n\"Never mind, he'll get on all right,\" the old man resumed.\n\n\"He's made a start.... You swing it too wide, you'll tire yourself\nout.... The master, sure, does his best for himself! But see the grass\nmissed out! For such work us fellows would catch it!\"\n\nThe grass became softer, and Levin, listening without answering,\nfollowed Tit, trying to do the best he could. They moved a hundred\npaces. Tit kept moving on, without stopping, not showing the slightest\nweariness, but Levin was already beginning to be afraid he would not be\nable to keep it up: he was so tired.\n\nHe felt as he swung his scythe that he was at the very end of his\nstrength, and was making up his mind to ask Tit to stop. But at that\nvery moment Tit stopped of his own accord, and stooping down picked up\nsome grass, rubbed his scythe, and began whetting it. Levin straightened\nhimself, and drawing a deep breath looked round. Behind him came a\npeasant, and he too was evidently tired, for he stopped at once without\nwaiting to mow up to Levin, and began whetting his scythe. Tit sharpened\nhis scythe and Levin's, and they went on. The next time it was just the\nsame. Tit moved on with sweep after sweep of his scythe, not stopping\nnor showing signs of weariness. Levin followed him, trying not to get\nleft behind, and he found it harder and harder: the moment came when he\nfelt he had no strength left, but at that very moment Tit stopped and\nwhetted the scythes.\n\nSo they mowed the first row. And this long row seemed particularly hard\nwork to Levin; but when the end was reached and Tit, shouldering his\nscythe, began with deliberate stride returning on the tracks left by his\nheels in the cut grass, and Levin walked back in the same way over the\nspace he had cut, in spite of the sweat that ran in streams over his\nface and fell in drops down his nose, and drenched his back as though he\nhad been soaked in water, he felt very happy. What delighted him\nparticularly was that now he knew he would be able to hold out.\n\nHis pleasure was only disturbed by his row not being well cut. \"I will\nswing less with my arm and more with my whole body,\" he thought,\ncomparing Tit's row, which looked as if it had been cut with a line,\nwith his own unevenly and irregularly lying grass.\n\nThe first row, as Levin noticed, Tit had mowed specially quickly,\nprobably wishing to put his master to the test, and the row happened to\nbe a long one. The next rows were easier, but still Levin had to strain\nevery nerve not to drop behind the peasants.\n\nHe thought of nothing, wished for nothing, but not to be left behind the\npeasants, and to do his work as well as possible. He heard nothing but\nthe swish of scythes, and saw before him Tit's upright figure mowing\naway, the crescent-shaped curve of the cut grass, the grass and flower\nheads slowly and rhythmically falling before the blade of his scythe,\nand ahead of him the end of the row, where would come the rest.\n\nSuddenly, in the midst of his toil, without understanding what it was or\nwhence it came, he felt a pleasant sensation of chill on his hot, moist\nshoulders. He glanced at the sky in the interval for whetting the\nscythes. A heavy, lowering storm cloud had blown up, and big raindrops\nwere falling. Some of the peasants went to their coats and put them on;\nothers--just like Levin himself--merely shrugged their shoulders,\nenjoying the pleasant coolness of it.\n\nAnother row, and yet another row, followed--long rows and short rows,\nwith good grass and with poor grass. Levin lost all sense of time, and\ncould not have told whether it was late or early now. A change began to\ncome over his work, which gave him immense satisfaction. In the midst of\nhis toil there were moments during which he forgot what he was doing,\nand it came all easy to him, and at those same moments his row was\nalmost as smooth and well cut as Tit's. But so soon as he recollected\nwhat he was doing, and began trying to do better, he was at once\nconscious of all the difficulty of his task, and the row was badly mown.\n\nOn finishing yet another row he would have gone back to the top of the\nmeadow again to begin the next, but Tit stopped, and going up to the old\nman said something in a low voice to him. They both looked at the sun.\n\"What are they talking about, and why doesn't he go back?\" thought\nLevin, not guessing that the peasants had been mowing no less than four\nhours without stopping, and it was time for their lunch.\n\n\"Lunch, sir,\" said the old man.\n\n\"Is it really time? That's right; lunch, then.\"\n\nLevin gave his scythe to Tit, and together with the peasants, who were\ncrossing the long stretch of mown grass, slightly sprinkled with rain,\nto get their bread from the heap of coats, he went towards his house.\nOnly then he suddenly awoke to the fact that he had been wrong about the\nweather and the rain was drenching his hay.\n\n\"The hay will be spoiled,\" he said.\n\n\"Not a bit of it, sir; mow in the rain, and you'll rake in fine\nweather!\" said the old man.\n\nLevin untied his horse and rode home to his coffee. Sergey Ivanovitch\nwas only just getting up. When he had drunk his coffee, Levin rode back\nagain to the mowing before Sergey Ivanovitch had had time to dress and\ncome down to the dining room.\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\n\nAfter lunch Levin was not in the same place in the string of mowers as\nbefore, but stood between the old man who had accosted him jocosely, and\nnow invited him to be his neighbor, and a young peasant, who had only\nbeen married in the autumn, and who was mowing this summer for the first\ntime.\n\nThe old man, holding himself erect, moved in front, with his feet turned\nout, taking long, regular strides, and with a precise and regular action\nwhich seemed to cost him no more effort than swinging one's arms in\nwalking, as though it were in play, he laid down the high, even row of\ngrass. It was as though it were not he but the sharp scythe of itself\nswishing through the juicy grass.\n\nBehind Levin came the lad Mishka. His pretty, boyish face, with a twist\nof fresh grass bound round his hair, was all working with effort; but\nwhenever anyone looked at him he smiled. He would clearly have died\nsooner than own it was hard work for him.\n\nLevin kept between them. In the very heat of the day the mowing did not\nseem such hard work to him. The perspiration with which he was drenched\ncooled him, while the sun, that burned his back, his head, and his arms,\nbare to the elbow, gave a vigor and dogged energy to his labor; and more\nand more often now came those moments of unconsciousness, when it was\npossible not to think what one was doing. The scythe cut of itself.\nThese were happy moments. Still more delightful were the moments when\nthey reached the stream where the rows ended, and the old man rubbed his\nscythe with the wet, thick grass, rinsed its blade in the fresh water of\nthe stream, ladled out a little in a tin dipper, and offered Levin a\ndrink.\n\n\"What do you say to my home-brew, eh? Good, eh?\" said he, winking.\n\nAnd truly Levin had never drunk any liquor so good as this warm water\nwith green bits floating in it, and a taste of rust from the tin dipper.\nAnd immediately after this came the delicious, slow saunter, with his\nhand on the scythe, during which he could wipe away the streaming sweat,\ntake deep breaths of air, and look about at the long string of mowers\nand at what was happening around in the forest and the country.\n\nThe longer Levin mowed, the oftener he felt the moments of\nunconsciousness in which it seemed not his hands that swung the scythe,\nbut the scythe mowing of itself, a body full of life and consciousness\nof its own, and as though by magic, without thinking of it, the work\nturned out regular and well-finished of itself. These were the most\nblissful moments.\n\nIt was only hard work when he had to break off the motion, which had\nbecome unconscious, and to think; when he had to mow round a hillock or\na tuft of sorrel. The old man did this easily. When a hillock came he\nchanged his action, and at one time with the heel, and at another with\nthe tip of his scythe, clipped the hillock round both sides with short\nstrokes. And while he did this he kept looking about and watching what\ncame into his view: at one moment he picked a wild berry and ate it or\noffered it to Levin, then he flung away a twig with the blade of the\nscythe, then he looked at a quail's nest, from which the bird flew just\nunder the scythe, or caught a snake that crossed his path, and lifting\nit on the scythe as though on a fork showed it to Levin and threw it\naway.\n\nFor both Levin and the young peasant behind him, such changes of\nposition were difficult. Both of them, repeating over and over again the\nsame strained movement, were in a perfect frenzy of toil, and were\nincapable of shifting their position and at the same time watching what\nwas before them.\n\nLevin did not notice how time was passing. If he had been asked how long\nhe had been working he would have said half an hour--and it was getting\non for dinner time. As they were walking back over the cut grass, the\nold man called Levin's attention to the little girls and boys who were\ncoming from different directions, hardly visible through the long grass,\nand along the road towards the mowers, carrying sacks of bread dragging\nat their little hands and pitchers of the sour rye-beer, with cloths\nwrapped round them.\n\n\"Look'ee, the little emmets crawling!\" he said, pointing to them, and he\nshaded his eyes with his hand to look at the sun. They mowed two more\nrows; the old man stopped.\n\n\"Come, master, dinner time!\" he said briskly. And on reaching the stream\nthe mowers moved off across the lines of cut grass towards their pile of\ncoats, where the children who had brought their dinners were sitting\nwaiting for them. The peasants gathered into groups--those further away\nunder a cart, those nearer under a willow bush.\n\nLevin sat down by them; he felt disinclined to go away.\n\nAll constraint with the master had disappeared long ago. The peasants\ngot ready for dinner. Some washed, the young lads bathed in the stream,\nothers made a place comfortable for a rest, untied their sacks of bread,\nand uncovered the pitchers of rye-beer. The old man crumbled up some\nbread in a cup, stirred it with the handle of a spoon, poured water on\nit from the dipper, broke up some more bread, and having seasoned it\nwith salt, he turned to the east to say his prayer.\n\n\"Come, master, taste my sop,\" said he, kneeling down before the cup.\n\nThe sop was so good that Levin gave up the idea of going home. He dined\nwith the old man, and talked to him about his family affairs, taking the\nkeenest interest in them, and told him about his own affairs and all the\ncircumstances that could be of interest to the old man. He felt much\nnearer to him than to his brother, and could not help smiling at the\naffection he felt for this man. When the old man got up again, said his\nprayer, and lay down under a bush, putting some grass under his head for\na pillow, Levin did the same, and in spite of the clinging flies that\nwere so persistent in the sunshine, and the midges that tickled his hot\nface and body, he fell asleep at once and only waked when the sun had\npassed to the other side of the bush and reached him. The old man had\nbeen awake a long while, and was sitting up whetting the scythes of the\nyounger lads.\n\nLevin looked about him and hardly recognized the place, everything was\nso changed. The immense stretch of meadow had been mown and was\nsparkling with a peculiar fresh brilliance, with its lines of already\nsweet-smelling grass in the slanting rays of the evening sun. And the\nbushes about the river had been cut down, and the river itself, not\nvisible before, now gleaming like steel in its bends, and the moving,\nascending, peasants, and the sharp wall of grass of the unmown part of\nthe meadow, and the hawks hovering over the stripped meadow--all was\nperfectly new. Raising himself, Levin began considering how much had\nbeen cut and how much more could still be done that day.\n\nThe work done was exceptionally much for forty-two men. They had cut the\nwhole of the big meadow, which had, in the years of serf labor, taken\nthirty scythes two days to mow. Only the corners remained to do, where\nthe rows were short. But Levin felt a longing to get as much mowing done\nthat day as possible, and was vexed with the sun sinking so quickly in\nthe sky. He felt no weariness; all he wanted was to get his work done\nmore and more quickly and as much done as possible.\n\n\"Could you cut Mashkin Upland too?--what do you think?\" he said to the\nold man.\n\n\"As God wills, the sun's not high. A little vodka for the lads?\"\n\nAt the afternoon rest, when they were sitting down again, and those who\nsmoked had lighted their pipes, the old man told the men that \"Mashkin\nUpland's to be cut--there'll be some vodka.\"\n\n\"Why not cut it? Come on, Tit! We'll look sharp! We can eat at night.\nCome on!\" cried voices, and eating up their bread, the mowers went back\nto work.\n\n\"Come, lads, keep it up!\" said Tit, and ran on ahead almost at a trot.\n\n\"Get along, get along!\" said the old man, hurrying after him and easily\novertaking him, \"I'll mow you down, look out!\"\n\nAnd young and old mowed away, as though they were racing with one\nanother. But however fast they worked, they did not spoil the grass, and\nthe rows were laid just as neatly and exactly. The little piece left\nuncut in the corner was mown in five minutes. The last of the mowers\nwere just ending their rows while the foremost snatched up their coats\nonto their shoulders, and crossed the road towards Mashkin Upland.\n\nThe sun was already sinking into the trees when they went with their\njingling dippers into the wooded ravine of Mashkin Upland. The grass was\nup to their waists in the middle of the hollow, soft, tender, and\nfeathery, spotted here and there among the trees with wild heart's-ease.\n\nAfter a brief consultation--whether to take the rows lengthwise or\ndiagonally--Prohor Yermilin, also a renowned mower, a huge, black-haired\npeasant, went on ahead. He went up to the top, turned back again and\nstarted mowing, and they all proceeded to form in line behind him, going\ndownhill through the hollow and uphill right up to the edge of the\nforest. The sun sank behind the forest. The dew was falling by now; the\nmowers were in the sun only on the hillside, but below, where a mist was\nrising, and on the opposite side, they mowed into the fresh, dewy shade.\nThe work went rapidly. The grass cut with a juicy sound, and was at once\nlaid in high, fragrant rows. The mowers from all sides, brought closer\ntogether in the short row, kept urging one another on to the sound of\njingling dippers and clanging scythes, and the hiss of the whetstones\nsharpening them, and good-humored shouts.\n\nLevin still kept between the young peasant and the old man. The old man,\nwho had put on his short sheepskin jacket, was just as good-humored,\njocose, and free in his movements. Among the trees they were continually\ncutting with their scythes the so-called \"birch mushrooms,\" swollen fat\nin the succulent grass. But the old man bent down every time he came\nacross a mushroom, picked it up and put it in his bosom. \"Another\npresent for my old woman,\" he said as he did so.\n\nEasy as it was to mow the wet, soft grass, it was hard work going up and\ndown the steep sides of the ravine. But this did not trouble the old\nman. Swinging his scythe just as ever, and moving his feet in their big,\nplaited shoes with firm, little steps, he climbed slowly up the steep\nplace, and though his breeches hanging out below his smock, and his\nwhole frame trembled with effort, he did not miss one blade of grass or\none mushroom on his way, and kept making jokes with the peasants and\nLevin. Levin walked after him and often thought he must fall, as he\nclimbed with a scythe up a steep cliff where it would have been hard\nwork to clamber without anything. But he climbed up and did what he had\nto do. He felt as though some external force were moving him.\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\n\nMashkin Upland was mown, the last row finished, the peasants had put on\ntheir coats and were gaily trudging home. Levin got on his horse and,\nparting regretfully from the peasants, rode homewards. On the hillside\nhe looked back; he could not see them in the mist that had risen from\nthe valley; he could only hear rough, good-humored voices, laughter, and\nthe sound of clanking scythes.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch had long ago finished dinner, and was drinking iced\nlemon and water in his own room, looking through the reviews and papers\nwhich he had only just received by post, when Levin rushed into the\nroom, talking merrily, with his wet and matted hair sticking to his\nforehead, and his back and chest grimed and moist.\n\n\"We mowed the whole meadow! Oh, it is nice, delicious! And how have you\nbeen getting on?\" said Levin, completely forgetting the disagreeable\nconversation of the previous day.\n\n\"Mercy! what do you look like!\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, for the first\nmoment looking round with some dissatisfaction. \"And the door, do shut\nthe door!\" he cried. \"You must have let in a dozen at least.\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch could not endure flies, and in his own room he never\nopened the window except at night, and carefully kept the door shut.\n\n\"Not one, on my honor. But if I have, I'll catch them. You wouldn't\nbelieve what a pleasure it is! How have you spent the day?\"\n\n\"Very well. But have you really been mowing the whole day? I expect\nyou're as hungry as a wolf. Kouzma has got everything ready for you.\"\n\n\"No, I don't feel hungry even. I had something to eat there. But I'll go\nand wash.\"\n\n\"Yes, go along, go along, and I'll come to you directly,\" said Sergey\nIvanovitch, shaking his head as he looked at his brother. \"Go along,\nmake haste,\" he added smiling, and gathering up his books, he prepared\nto go too. He, too, felt suddenly good-humored and disinclined to leave\nhis brother's side. \"But what did you do while it was raining?\"\n\n\"Rain? Why, there was scarcely a drop. I'll come directly. So you had a\nnice day too? That's first-rate.\" And Levin went off to change his\nclothes.\n\nFive minutes later the brothers met in the dining room. Although it\nseemed to Levin that he was not hungry, and he sat down to dinner simply\nso as not to hurt Kouzma's feelings, yet when he began to eat the dinner\nstruck him as extraordinarily good. Sergey Ivanovitch watched him with a\nsmile.\n\n\"Oh, by the way, there's a letter for you,\" said he. \"Kouzma, bring it\ndown, please. And mind you shut the doors.\"\n\nThe letter was from Oblonsky. Levin read it aloud. Oblonsky wrote to him\nfrom Petersburg: \"I have had a letter from Dolly; she's at Ergushovo,\nand everything seems going wrong there. Do ride over and see her,\nplease; help her with advice; you know all about it. She will be so glad\nto see you. She's quite alone, poor thing. My mother-in-law and all of\nthem are still abroad.\"\n\n\"That's capital! I will certainly ride over to her,\" said Levin. \"Or\nwe'll go together. She's such a splendid woman, isn't she?\"\n\n\"They're not far from here, then?\"\n\n\"Twenty-five miles. Or perhaps it is thirty. But a capital road.\nCapital, we'll drive over.\"\n\n\"I shall be delighted,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, still smiling. The sight\nof his younger brother's appearance had immediately put him in a good\nhumor.\n\n\"Well, you have an appetite!\" he said, looking at his dark-red, sunburnt\nface and neck bent over the plate.\n\n\"Splendid! You can't imagine what an effectual remedy it is for every\nsort of foolishness. I want to enrich medicine with a new word:\n_Arbeitskur_.\"\n\n\"Well, but you don't need it, I should fancy.\"\n\n\"No, but for all sorts of nervous invalids.\"\n\n\"Yes, it ought to be tried. I had meant to come to the mowing to look at\nyou, but it was so unbearably hot that I got no further than the forest.\nI sat there a little, and went on by the forest to the village, met your\nold nurse, and sounded her as to the peasants' view of you. As far as I\ncan make out, they don't approve of this. She said: 'It's not a\ngentleman's work.' Altogether, I fancy that in the people's ideas there\nare very clear and definite notions of certain, as they call it,\n'gentlemanly' lines of action. And they don't sanction the gentry's\nmoving outside bounds clearly laid down in their ideas.\"\n\n\"Maybe so; but anyway it's a pleasure such as I have never known in my\nlife. And there's no harm in it, you know. Is there?\" answered Levin. \"I\ncan't help it if they don't like it. Though I do believe it's all right.\nEh?\"\n\n\"Altogether,\" pursued Sergey Ivanovitch, \"you're satisfied with your\nday?\"\n\n\"Quite satisfied. We cut the whole meadow. And such a splendid old man I\nmade friends with there! You can't fancy how delightful he was!\"\n\n\"Well, so you're content with your day. And so am I. First, I solved two\nchess problems, and one a very pretty one--a pawn opening. I'll show it\nyou. And then--I thought over our conversation yesterday.\"\n\n\"Eh! our conversation yesterday?\" said Levin, blissfully dropping his\neyelids and drawing deep breaths after finishing his dinner, and\nabsolutely incapable of recalling what their conversation yesterday was\nabout.\n\n\"I think you are partly right. Our difference of opinion amounts to\nthis, that you make the mainspring self-interest, while I suppose that\ninterest in the common weal is bound to exist in every man of a certain\ndegree of advancement. Possibly you are right too, that action founded\non material interest would be more desirable. You are altogether, as the\nFrench say, too _primesautiere_ a nature; you must have intense,\nenergetic action, or nothing.\"\n\nLevin listened to his brother and did not understand a single word, and\ndid not want to understand. He was only afraid his brother might ask him\nsome question which would make it evident he had not heard.\n\n\"So that's what I think it is, my dear boy,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch,\ntouching him on the shoulder.\n\n\"Yes, of course. But, do you know? I won't stand up for my view,\"\nanswered Levin, with a guilty, childlike smile. \"Whatever was it I was\ndisputing about?\" he wondered. \"Of course, I'm right, and he's right,\nand it's all first-rate. Only I must go round to the counting house and\nsee to things.\" He got up, stretching and smiling. Sergey Ivanovitch\nsmiled too.\n\n\"If you want to go out, let's go together,\" he said, disinclined to be\nparted from his brother, who seemed positively breathing out freshness\nand energy. \"Come, we'll go to the counting house, if you have to go\nthere.\"\n\n\"Oh, heavens!\" shouted Levin, so loudly that Sergey Ivanovitch was quite\nfrightened.\n\n\"What, what is the matter?\"\n\n\"How's Agafea Mihalovna's hand?\" said Levin, slapping himself on the\nhead. \"I'd positively forgotten her even.\"\n\n\"It's much better.\"\n\n\"Well, anyway I'll run down to her. Before you've time to get your hat\non, I'll be back.\"\n\nAnd he ran downstairs, clattering with his heels like a spring-rattle.\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\n\nStephan Arkadyevitch had gone to Petersburg to perform the most natural\nand essential official duty--so familiar to everyone in the government\nservice, though incomprehensible to outsiders--that duty, but for which\none could hardly be in government service, of reminding the ministry of\nhis existence--and having, for the due performance of this rite, taken\nall the available cash from home, was gaily and agreeably spending his\ndays at the races and in the summer villas. Meanwhile Dolly and the\nchildren had moved into the country, to cut down expenses as much as\npossible. She had gone to Ergushovo, the estate that had been her dowry,\nand the one where in spring the forest had been sold. It was nearly\nforty miles from Levin's Pokrovskoe. The big, old house at Ergushovo had\nbeen pulled down long ago, and the old prince had had the lodge done up\nand built on to. Twenty years before, when Dolly was a child, the lodge\nhad been roomy and comfortable, though, like all lodges, it stood\nsideways to the entrance avenue, and faced the south. But by now this\nlodge was old and dilapidated. When Stepan Arkadyevitch had gone down in\nthe spring to sell the forest, Dolly had begged him to look over the\nhouse and order what repairs might be needed. Stepan Arkadyevitch, like\nall unfaithful husbands indeed, was very solicitous for his wife's\ncomfort, and he had himself looked over the house, and given\ninstructions about everything that he considered necessary. What he\nconsidered necessary was to cover all the furniture with cretonne, to\nput up curtains, to weed the garden, to make a little bridge on the\npond, and to plant flowers. But he forgot many other essential matters,\nthe want of which greatly distressed Darya Alexandrovna later on.\n\nIn spite of Stepan Arkadyevitch's efforts to be an attentive father and\nhusband, he never could keep in his mind that he had a wife and\nchildren. He had bachelor tastes, and it was in accordance with them\nthat he shaped his life. On his return to Moscow he informed his wife\nwith pride that everything was ready, that the house would be a little\nparadise, and that he advised her most certainly to go. His wife's\nstaying away in the country was very agreeable to Stepan Arkadyevitch\nfrom every point of view: it did the children good, it decreased\nexpenses, and it left him more at liberty. Darya Alexandrovna regarded\nstaying in the country for the summer as essential for the children,\nespecially for the little girl, who had not succeeded in regaining her\nstrength after the scarlatina, and also as a means of escaping the petty\nhumiliations, the little bills owing to the wood-merchant, the\nfishmonger, the shoemaker, which made her miserable. Besides this, she\nwas pleased to go away to the country because she was dreaming of\ngetting her sister Kitty to stay with her there. Kitty was to be back\nfrom abroad in the middle of the summer, and bathing had been prescribed\nfor her. Kitty wrote that no prospect was so alluring as to spend the\nsummer with Dolly at Ergushovo, full of childish associations for both\nof them.\n\nThe first days of her existence in the country were very hard for Dolly.\nShe used to stay in the country as a child, and the impression she had\nretained of it was that the country was a refuge from all the\nunpleasantness of the town, that life there, though not luxurious--Dolly\ncould easily make up her mind to that--was cheap and comfortable; that\nthere was plenty of everything, everything was cheap, everything could\nbe got, and children were happy. But now coming to the country as the\nhead of a family, she perceived that it was all utterly unlike what she\nhad fancied.\n\nThe day after their arrival there was a heavy fall of rain, and in the\nnight the water came through in the corridor and in the nursery, so that\nthe beds had to be carried into the drawing room. There was no kitchen\nmaid to be found; of the nine cows, it appeared from the words of the\ncowherd-woman that some were about to calve, others had just calved,\nothers were old, and others again hard-uddered; there was not butter nor\nmilk enough even for the children. There were no eggs. They could get no\nfowls; old, purplish, stringy cocks were all they had for roasting and\nboiling. Impossible to get women to scrub the floors--all were\npotato-hoeing. Driving was out of the question, because one of the\nhorses was restive, and bolted in the shafts. There was no place where\nthey could bathe; the whole of the river-bank was trampled by the cattle\nand open to the road; even walks were impossible, for the cattle strayed\ninto the garden through a gap in the hedge, and there was one terrible\nbull, who bellowed, and therefore might be expected to gore somebody.\nThere were no proper cupboards for their clothes; what cupboards there\nwere either would not close at all, or burst open whenever anyone passed\nby them. There were no pots and pans; there was no copper in the\nwashhouse, nor even an ironing-board in the maids' room.\n\nFinding instead of peace and rest all these, from her point of view,\nfearful calamities, Darya Alexandrovna was at first in despair. She\nexerted herself to the utmost, felt the hopelessness of the position,\nand was every instant suppressing the tears that started into her eyes.\nThe bailiff, a retired quartermaster, whom Stepan Arkadyevitch had taken\na fancy to and had appointed bailiff on account of his handsome and\nrespectful appearance as a hall-porter, showed no sympathy for Darya\nAlexandrovna's woes. He said respectfully, \"nothing can be done, the\npeasants are such a wretched lot,\" and did nothing to help her.\n\nThe position seemed hopeless. But in the Oblonskys' household, as in all\nfamilies indeed, there was one inconspicuous but most valuable and\nuseful person, Marya Philimonovna. She soothed her mistress, assured her\nthat everything would _come round_ (it was her expression, and Matvey\nhad borrowed it from her), and without fuss or hurry proceeded to set to\nwork herself. She had immediately made friends with the bailiff's wife,\nand on the very first day she drank tea with her and the bailiff under\nthe acacias, and reviewed all the circumstances of the position. Very\nsoon Marya Philimonovna had established her club, so to say, under the\nacacias, and there it was, in this club, consisting of the bailiff's\nwife, the village elder, and the counting house clerk, that the\ndifficulties of existence were gradually smoothed away, and in a week's\ntime everything actually had come round. The roof was mended, a kitchen\nmaid was found--a crony of the village elder's--hens were bought, the\ncows began giving milk, the garden hedge was stopped up with stakes, the\ncarpenter made a mangle, hooks were put in the cupboards, and they\nceased to burst open spontaneously, and an ironing-board covered with\narmy cloth was placed across from the arm of a chair to the chest of\ndrawers, and there was a smell of flatirons in the maids' room.\n\n\"Just see, now, and you were quite in despair,\" said Marya Philimonovna,\npointing to the ironing-board. They even rigged up a bathing-shed of\nstraw hurdles. Lily began to bathe, and Darya Alexandrovna began to\nrealize, if only in part, her expectations, if not of a peaceful, at\nleast of a comfortable, life in the country. Peaceful with six children\nDarya Alexandrovna could not be. One would fall ill, another might\neasily become so, a third would be without something necessary, a fourth\nwould show symptoms of a bad disposition, and so on. Rare indeed were\nthe brief periods of peace. But these cares and anxieties were for Darya\nAlexandrovna the sole happiness possible. Had it not been for them, she\nwould have been left alone to brood over her husband who did not love\nher. And besides, hard though it was for the mother to bear the dread of\nillness, the illnesses themselves, and the grief of seeing signs of evil\npropensities in her children--the children themselves were even now\nrepaying her in small joys for her sufferings. Those joys were so small\nthat they passed unnoticed, like gold in sand, and at bad moments she\ncould see nothing but the pain, nothing but sand; but there were good\nmoments too when she saw nothing but the joy, nothing but gold.\n\nNow in the solitude of the country, she began to be more and more\nfrequently aware of those joys. Often, looking at them, she would make\nevery possible effort to persuade herself that she was mistaken, that\nshe as a mother was partial to her children. All the same, she could not\nhelp saying to herself that she had charming children, all six of them\nin different ways, but a set of children such as is not often to be met\nwith, and she was happy in them, and proud of them.\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\n\nTowards the end of May, when everything had been more or less\nsatisfactorily arranged, she received her husband's answer to her\ncomplaints of the disorganized state of things in the country. He wrote\nbegging her forgiveness for not having thought of everything before, and\npromised to come down at the first chance. This chance did not present\nitself, and till the beginning of June Darya Alexandrovna stayed alone\nin the country.\n\nOn the Sunday in St. Peter's week Darya Alexandrovna drove to mass for\nall her children to take the sacrament. Darya Alexandrovna in her\nintimate, philosophical talks with her sister, her mother, and her\nfriends very often astonished them by the freedom of her views in regard\nto religion. She had a strange religion of transmigration of souls all\nher own, in which she had firm faith, troubling herself little about the\ndogmas of the Church. But in her family she was strict in carrying out\nall that was required by the Church--and not merely in order to set an\nexample, but with all her heart in it. The fact that the children had\nnot been at the sacrament for nearly a year worried her extremely, and\nwith the full approval and sympathy of Marya Philimonovna she decided\nthat this should take place now in the summer.\n\nFor several days before, Darya Alexandrovna was busily deliberating on\nhow to dress all the children. Frocks were made or altered and washed,\nseams and flounces were let out, buttons were sewn on, and ribbons got\nready. One dress, Tanya's, which the English governess had undertaken,\ncost Darya Alexandrovna much loss of temper. The English governess in\naltering it had made the seams in the wrong place, had taken up the\nsleeves too much, and altogether spoilt the dress. It was so narrow on\nTanya's shoulders that it was quite painful to look at her. But Marya\nPhilimonovna had the happy thought of putting in gussets, and adding a\nlittle shoulder-cape. The dress was set right, but there was nearly a\nquarrel with the English governess. On the morning, however, all was\nhappily arranged, and towards ten o'clock--the time at which they had\nasked the priest to wait for them for the mass--the children in their\nnew dresses, with beaming faces, stood on the step before the carriage\nwaiting for their mother.\n\nTo the carriage, instead of the restive Raven, they had harnessed,\nthanks to the representations of Marya Philimonovna, the bailiff's\nhorse, Brownie, and Darya Alexandrovna, delayed by anxiety over her own\nattire, came out and got in, dressed in a white muslin gown.\n\nDarya Alexandrovna had done her hair, and dressed with care and\nexcitement. In the old days she had dressed for her own sake to look\npretty and be admired. Later on, as she got older, dress became more and\nmore distasteful to her. She saw that she was losing her good looks. But\nnow she began to feel pleasure and interest in dress again. Now she did\nnot dress for her own sake, not for the sake of her own beauty, but\nsimply that as the mother of those exquisite creatures she might not\nspoil the general effect. And looking at herself for the last time in\nthe looking-glass she was satisfied with herself. She looked nice. Not\nnice as she would have wished to look nice in old days at a ball, but\nnice for the object which she now had in view.\n\nIn the church there was no one but the peasants, the servants and their\nwomen-folk. But Darya Alexandrovna saw, or fancied she saw, the\nsensation produced by her children and her. The children were not only\nbeautiful to look at in their smart little dresses, but they were\ncharming in the way they behaved. Aliosha, it is true, did not stand\nquite correctly; he kept turning round, trying to look at his little\njacket from behind; but all the same he was wonderfully sweet. Tanya\nbehaved like a grownup person, and looked after the little ones. And the\nsmallest, Lily, was bewitching in her naive astonishment at everything,\nand it was difficult not to smile when, after taking the sacrament, she\nsaid in English, \"Please, some more.\"\n\nOn the way home the children felt that something solemn had happened,\nand were very sedate.\n\nEverything went happily at home too; but at lunch Grisha began\nwhistling, and, what was worse, was disobedient to the English\ngoverness, and was forbidden to have any tart. Darya Alexandrovna would\nnot have let things go so far on such a day had she been present; but\nshe had to support the English governess's authority, and she upheld her\ndecision that Grisha should have no tart. This rather spoiled the\ngeneral good humor. Grisha cried, declaring that Nikolinka had whistled\ntoo, and he was not punished, and that he wasn't crying for the tart--he\ndidn't care--but at being unjustly treated. This was really too tragic,\nand Darya Alexandrovna made up her mind to persuade the English\ngoverness to forgive Grisha, and she went to speak to her. But on the\nway, as she passed the drawing room, she beheld a scene, filling her\nheart with such pleasure that the tears came into her eyes, and she\nforgave the delinquent herself.\n\nThe culprit was sitting at the window in the corner of the drawing room;\nbeside him was standing Tanya with a plate. On the pretext of wanting to\ngive some dinner to her dolls, she had asked the governess's permission\nto take her share of tart to the nursery, and had taken it instead to\nher brother. While still weeping over the injustice of his punishment,\nhe was eating the tart, and kept saying through his sobs, \"Eat yourself;\nlet's eat it together ... together.\"\n\nTanya had at first been under the influence of her pity for Grisha, then\nof a sense of her noble action, and tears were standing in her eyes too;\nbut she did not refuse, and ate her share.\n\nOn catching sight of their mother they were dismayed, but, looking into\nher face, they saw they were not doing wrong. They burst out laughing,\nand, with their mouths full of tart, they began wiping their smiling\nlips with their hands, and smearing their radiant faces all over with\ntears and jam.\n\n\"Mercy! Your new white frock! Tanya! Grisha!\" said their mother, trying\nto save the frock, but with tears in her eyes, smiling a blissful,\nrapturous smile.\n\nThe new frocks were taken off, and orders were given for the little\ngirls to have their blouses put on, and the boys their old jackets, and\nthe wagonette to be harnessed; with Brownie, to the bailiff's annoyance,\nagain in the shafts, to drive out for mushroom picking and bathing. A\nroar of delighted shrieks arose in the nursery, and never ceased till\nthey had set off for the bathing-place.\n\nThey gathered a whole basketful of mushrooms; even Lily found a birch\nmushroom. It had always happened before that Miss Hoole found them and\npointed them out to her; but this time she found a big one quite of\nherself, and there was a general scream of delight, \"Lily has found a\nmushroom!\"\n\nThen they reached the river, put the horses under the birch trees, and\nwent to the bathing-place. The coachman, Terenty, fastened the horses,\nwho kept whisking away the flies, to a tree, and, treading down the\ngrass, lay down in the shade of a birch and smoked his shag, while the\nnever-ceasing shrieks of delight of the children floated across to him\nfrom the bathing-place.\n\nThough it was hard work to look after all the children and restrain\ntheir wild pranks, though it was difficult too to keep in one's head and\nnot mix up all the stockings, little breeches, and shoes for the\ndifferent legs, and to undo and to do up again all the tapes and\nbuttons, Darya Alexandrovna, who had always liked bathing herself, and\nbelieved it to be very good for the children, enjoyed nothing so much as\nbathing with all the children. To go over all those fat little legs,\npulling on their stockings, to take in her arms and dip those little\nnaked bodies, and to hear their screams of delight and alarm, to see the\nbreathless faces with wide-open, scared, and happy eyes of all her\nsplashing cherubs, was a great pleasure to her.\n\nWhen half the children had been dressed, some peasant women in holiday\ndress, out picking herbs, came up to the bathing-shed and stopped shyly.\nMarya Philimonovna called one of them and handed her a sheet and a shirt\nthat had dropped into the water for her to dry them, and Darya\nAlexandrovna began to talk to the women. At first they laughed behind\ntheir hands and did not understand her questions, but soon they grew\nbolder and began to talk, winning Darya Alexandrovna's heart at once by\nthe genuine admiration of the children that they showed.\n\n\"My, what a beauty! as white as sugar,\" said one, admiring Tanitchka,\nand shaking her head; \"but thin...\"\n\n\"Yes, she has been ill.\"\n\n\"And so they've been bathing you too,\" said another to the baby.\n\n\"No; he's only three months old,\" answered Darya Alexandrovna with\npride.\n\n\"You don't say so!\"\n\n\"And have you any children?\"\n\n\"I've had four; I've two living--a boy and a girl. I weaned her last\ncarnival.\"\n\n\"How old is she?\"\n\n\"Why, two years old.\"\n\n\"Why did you nurse her so long?\"\n\n\"It's our custom; for three fasts...\"\n\nAnd the conversation became most interesting to Darya Alexandrovna. What\nsort of time did she have? What was the matter with the boy? Where was\nher husband? Did it often happen?\n\nDarya Alexandrovna felt disinclined to leave the peasant women, so\ninteresting to her was their conversation, so completely identical were\nall their interests. What pleased her most of all was that she saw\nclearly what all the women admired more than anything was her having so\nmany children, and such fine ones. The peasant women even made Darya\nAlexandrovna laugh, and offended the English governess, because she was\nthe cause of the laughter she did not understand. One of the younger\nwomen kept staring at the Englishwoman, who was dressing after all the\nrest, and when she put on her third petticoat she could not refrain from\nthe remark, \"My, she keeps putting on and putting on, and she'll never\nhave done!\" she said, and they all went off into roars.\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\n\nOn the drive home, as Darya Alexandrovna, with all her children round\nher, their heads still wet from their bath, and a kerchief tied over her\nown head, was getting near the house, the coachman said, \"There's some\ngentleman coming: the master of Pokrovskoe, I do believe.\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna peeped out in front, and was delighted when she\nrecognized in the gray hat and gray coat the familiar figure of Levin\nwalking to meet them. She was glad to see him at any time, but at this\nmoment she was specially glad he should see her in all her glory. No one\nwas better able to appreciate her grandeur than Levin.\n\nSeeing her, he found himself face to face with one of the pictures of\nhis daydream of family life.\n\n\"You're like a hen with your chickens, Darya Alexandrovna.\"\n\n\"Ah, how glad I am to see you!\" she said, holding out her hand to him.\n\n\"Glad to see me, but you didn't let me know. My brother's staying with\nme. I got a note from Stiva that you were here.\"\n\n\"From Stiva?\" Darya Alexandrovna asked with surprise.\n\n\"Yes; he writes that you are here, and that he thinks you might allow me\nto be of use to you,\" said Levin, and as he said it he became suddenly\nembarrassed, and, stopping abruptly, he walked on in silence by the\nwagonette, snapping off the buds of the lime trees and nibbling them. He\nwas embarrassed through a sense that Darya Alexandrovna would be annoyed\nby receiving from an outsider help that should by rights have come from\nher own husband. Darya Alexandrovna certainly did not like this little\nway of Stepan Arkadyevitch's of foisting his domestic duties on others.\nAnd she was at once aware that Levin was aware of this. It was just for\nthis fineness of perception, for this delicacy, that Darya Alexandrovna\nliked Levin.\n\n\"I know, of course,\" said Levin, \"that that simply means that you would\nlike to see me, and I'm exceedingly glad. Though I can fancy that, used\nto town housekeeping as you are, you must feel in the wilds here, and if\nthere's anything wanted, I'm altogether at your disposal.\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" said Dolly. \"At first things were rather uncomfortable, but\nnow we've settled everything capitally--thanks to my old nurse,\" she\nsaid, indicating Marya Philimonovna, who, seeing that they were speaking\nof her, smiled brightly and cordially to Levin. She knew him, and knew\nthat he would be a good match for her young lady, and was very keen to\nsee the matter settled.\n\n\"Won't you get in, sir, we'll make room this side!\" she said to him.\n\n\"No, I'll walk. Children, who'd like to race the horses with me?\" The\nchildren knew Levin very little, and could not remember when they had\nseen him, but they experienced in regard to him none of that strange\nfeeling of shyness and hostility which children so often experience\ntowards hypocritical, grown-up people, and for which they are so often\nand miserably punished. Hypocrisy in anything whatever may deceive the\ncleverest and most penetrating man, but the least wide-awake of children\nrecognizes it, and is revolted by it, however ingeniously it may be\ndisguised. Whatever faults Levin had, there was not a trace of hypocrisy\nin him, and so the children showed him the same friendliness that they\nsaw in their mother's face. On his invitation, the two elder ones at\nonce jumped out to him and ran with him as simply as they would have\ndone with their nurse or Miss Hoole or their mother. Lily, too, began\nbegging to go to him, and her mother handed her to him; he sat her on\nhis shoulder and ran along with her.\n\n\"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, Darya Alexandrovna!\" he said, smiling\ngood-humoredly to the mother; \"there's no chance of my hurting or\ndropping her.\"\n\nAnd, looking at his strong, agile, assiduously careful and needlessly\nwary movements, the mother felt her mind at rest, and smiled gaily and\napprovingly as she watched him.\n\nHere, in the country, with children, and with Darya Alexandrovna, with\nwhom he was in sympathy, Levin was in a mood not infrequent with him, of\nchildlike light-heartedness that she particularly liked in him. As he\nran with the children, he taught them gymnastic feats, set Miss Hoole\nlaughing with his queer English accent, and talked to Darya Alexandrovna\nof his pursuits in the country.\n\nAfter dinner, Darya Alexandrovna, sitting alone with him on the balcony,\nbegan to speak of Kitty.\n\n\"You know, Kitty's coming here, and is going to spend the summer with\nme.\"\n\n\"Really,\" he said, flushing, and at once, to change the conversation, he\nsaid: \"Then I'll send you two cows, shall I? If you insist on a bill you\nshall pay me five roubles a month; but it's really too bad of you.\"\n\n\"No, thank you. We can manage very well now.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, then, I'll have a look at your cows, and if you'll allow me,\nI'll give directions about their food. Everything depends on their\nfood.\"\n\nAnd Levin, to turn the conversation, explained to Darya Alexandrovna the\ntheory of cow-keeping, based on the principle that the cow is simply a\nmachine for the transformation of food into milk, and so on.\n\nHe talked of this, and passionately longed to hear more of Kitty, and,\nat the same time, was afraid of hearing it. He dreaded the breaking up\nof the inward peace he had gained with such effort.\n\n\"Yes, but still all this has to be looked after, and who is there to\nlook after it?\" Darya Alexandrovna responded, without interest.\n\nShe had by now got her household matters so satisfactorily arranged,\nthanks to Marya Philimonovna, that she was disinclined to make any\nchange in them; besides, she had no faith in Levin's knowledge of\nfarming. General principles, as to the cow being a machine for the\nproduction of milk, she looked on with suspicion. It seemed to her that\nsuch principles could only be a hindrance in farm management. It all\nseemed to her a far simpler matter: all that was needed, as Marya\nPhilimonovna had explained, was to give Brindle and Whitebreast more\nfood and drink, and not to let the cook carry all the kitchen slops to\nthe laundry maid's cow. That was clear. But general propositions as to\nfeeding on meal and on grass were doubtful and obscure. And, what was\nmost important, she wanted to talk about Kitty.\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\n\n\"Kitty writes to me that there's nothing she longs for so much as quiet\nand solitude,\" Dolly said after the silence that had followed.\n\n\"And how is she--better?\" Levin asked in agitation.\n\n\"Thank God, she's quite well again. I never believed her lungs were\naffected.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm very glad!\" said Levin, and Dolly fancied she saw something\ntouching, helpless, in his face as he said this and looked silently into\nher face.\n\n\"Let me ask you, Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\" said Darya Alexandrovna,\nsmiling her kindly and rather mocking smile, \"why is it you are angry\nwith Kitty?\"\n\n\"I? I'm not angry with her,\" said Levin.\n\n\"Yes, you are angry. Why was it you did not come to see us nor them when\nyou were in Moscow?\"\n\n\"Darya Alexandrovna,\" he said, blushing up to the roots of his hair, \"I\nwonder really that with your kind heart you don't feel this. How it is\nyou feel no pity for me, if nothing else, when you know...\"\n\n\"What do I know?\"\n\n\"You know I made an offer and that I was refused,\" said Levin, and all\nthe tenderness he had been feeling for Kitty a minute before was\nreplaced by a feeling of anger for the slight he had suffered.\n\n\"What makes you suppose I know?\"\n\n\"Because everybody knows it...\"\n\n\"That's just where you are mistaken; I did not know it, though I had\nguessed it was so.\"\n\n\"Well, now you know it.\"\n\n\"All I knew was that something had happened that made her dreadfully\nmiserable, and that she begged me never to speak of it. And if she would\nnot tell me, she would certainly not speak of it to anyone else. But\nwhat did pass between you? Tell me.\"\n\n\"I have told you.\"\n\n\"When was it?\"\n\n\"When I was at their house the last time.\"\n\n\"Do you know that,\" said Darya Alexandrovna, \"I am awfully, awfully\nsorry for her. You suffer only from pride....\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" said Levin, \"but...\"\n\nShe interrupted him.\n\n\"But she, poor girl ... I am awfully, awfully sorry for her. Now I see\nit all.\"\n\n\"Well, Darya Alexandrovna, you must excuse me,\" he said, getting up.\n\"Good-bye, Darya Alexandrovna, till we meet again.\"\n\n\"No, wait a minute,\" she said, clutching him by the sleeve. \"Wait a\nminute, sit down.\"\n\n\"Please, please, don't let us talk of this,\" he said, sitting down, and\nat the same time feeling rise up and stir within his heart a hope he had\nbelieved to be buried.\n\n\"If I did not like you,\" she said, and tears came into her eyes; \"if I\ndid not know you, as I do know you . . .\"\n\nThe feeling that had seemed dead revived more and more, rose up and took\npossession of Levin's heart.\n\n\"Yes, I understand it all now,\" said Darya Alexandrovna. \"You can't\nunderstand it; for you men, who are free and make your own choice, it's\nalways clear whom you love. But a girl's in a position of suspense, with\nall a woman's or maiden's modesty, a girl who sees you men from afar,\nwho takes everything on trust,--a girl may have, and often has, such a\nfeeling that she cannot tell what to say.\"\n\n\"Yes, if the heart does not speak...\"\n\n\"No, the heart does speak; but just consider: you men have views about a\ngirl, you come to the house, you make friends, you criticize, you wait\nto see if you have found what you love, and then, when you are sure you\nlove her, you make an offer....\"\n\n\"Well, that's not quite it.\"\n\n\"Anyway you make an offer, when your love is ripe or when the balance\nhas completely turned between the two you are choosing from. But a girl\nis not asked. She is expected to make her choice, and yet she cannot\nchoose, she can only answer 'yes' or 'no.'\"\n\n\"Yes, to choose between me and Vronsky,\" thought Levin, and the dead\nthing that had come to life within him died again, and only weighed on\nhis heart and set it aching.\n\n\"Darya Alexandrovna,\" he said, \"that's how one chooses a new dress or\nsome purchase or other, not love. The choice has been made, and so much\nthe better.... And there can be no repeating it.\"\n\n\"Ah, pride, pride!\" said Darya Alexandrovna, as though despising him for\nthe baseness of this feeling in comparison with that other feeling which\nonly women know. \"At the time when you made Kitty an offer she was just\nin a position in which she could not answer. She was in doubt. Doubt\nbetween you and Vronsky. Him she was seeing every day, and you she had\nnot seen for a long while. Supposing she had been older ... I, for\ninstance, in her place could have felt no doubt. I always disliked him,\nand so it has turned out.\"\n\nLevin recalled Kitty's answer. She had said: \"_No, that cannot be_...\"\n\n\"Darya Alexandrovna,\" he said dryly, \"I appreciate your confidence in\nme; I believe you are making a mistake. But whether I am right or wrong,\nthat pride you so despise makes any thought of Katerina Alexandrovna out\nof the question for me,--you understand, utterly out of the question.\"\n\n\"I will only say one thing more: you know that I am speaking of my\nsister, whom I love as I love my own children. I don't say she cared for\nyou, all I meant to say is that her refusal at that moment proves\nnothing.\"\n\n\"I don't know!\" said Levin, jumping up. \"If you only knew how you are\nhurting me. It's just as if a child of yours were dead, and they were to\nsay to you: He would have been like this and like that, and he might\nhave lived, and how happy you would have been in him. But he's dead,\ndead, dead!...\"\n\n\"How absurd you are!\" said Darya Alexandrovna, looking with mournful\ntenderness at Levin's excitement. \"Yes, I see it all more and more\nclearly,\" she went on musingly. \"So you won't come to see us, then, when\nKitty's here?\"\n\n\"No, I shan't come. Of course I won't avoid meeting Katerina\nAlexandrovna, but as far as I can, I will try to save her the annoyance\nof my presence.\"\n\n\"You are very, very absurd,\" repeated Darya Alexandrovna, looking with\ntenderness into his face. \"Very well then, let it be as though we had\nnot spoken of this. What have you come for, Tanya?\" she said in French\nto the little girl who had come in.\n\n\"Where's my spade, mamma?\"\n\n\"I speak French, and you must too.\"\n\nThe little girl tried to say it in French, but could not remember the\nFrench for spade; the mother prompted her, and then told her in French\nwhere to look for the spade. And this made a disagreeable impression on\nLevin.\n\nEverything in Darya Alexandrovna's house and children struck him now as\nby no means so charming as a little while before. \"And what does she\ntalk French with the children for?\" he thought; \"how unnatural and false\nit is! And the children feel it so: Learning French and unlearning\nsincerity,\" he thought to himself, unaware that Darya Alexandrovna had\nthought all that over twenty times already, and yet, even at the cost of\nsome loss of sincerity, believed it necessary to teach her children\nFrench in that way.\n\n\"But why are you going? Do stay a little.\"\n\nLevin stayed to tea; but his good-humor had vanished, and he felt ill at\nease.\n\nAfter tea he went out into the hall to order his horses to be put in,\nand, when he came back, he found Darya Alexandrovna greatly disturbed,\nwith a troubled face, and tears in her eyes. While Levin had been\noutside, an incident had occurred which had utterly shattered all the\nhappiness she had been feeling that day, and her pride in her children.\nGrisha and Tanya had been fighting over a ball. Darya Alexandrovna,\nhearing a scream in the nursery, ran in and saw a terrible sight. Tanya\nwas pulling Grisha's hair, while he, with a face hideous with rage, was\nbeating her with his fists wherever he could get at her. Something\nsnapped in Darya Alexandrovna's heart when she saw this. It was as if\ndarkness had swooped down upon her life; she felt that these children of\nhers, that she was so proud of, were not merely most ordinary, but\npositively bad, ill-bred children, with coarse, brutal\npropensities--wicked children.\n\nShe could not talk or think of anything else, and she could not speak to\nLevin of her misery.\n\nLevin saw she was unhappy and tried to comfort her, saying that it\nshowed nothing bad, that all children fight; but, even as he said it, he\nwas thinking in his heart: \"No, I won't be artificial and talk French\nwith my children; but my children won't be like that. All one has to do\nis not spoil children, not to distort their nature, and they'll be\ndelightful. No, my children won't be like that.\"\n\nHe said good-bye and drove away, and she did not try to keep him.\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\n\nIn the middle of July the elder of the village on Levin's sister's\nestate, about fifteen miles from Pokrovskoe, came to Levin to report on\nhow things were going there and on the hay. The chief source of income\non his sister's estate was from the riverside meadows. In former years\nthe hay had been bought by the peasants for twenty roubles the three\nacres. When Levin took over the management of the estate, he thought on\nexamining the grasslands that they were worth more, and he fixed the\nprice at twenty-five roubles the three acres. The peasants would not\ngive that price, and, as Levin suspected, kept off other purchasers.\nThen Levin had driven over himself, and arranged to have the grass cut,\npartly by hired labor, partly at a payment of a certain proportion of\nthe crop. His own peasants put every hindrance they could in the way of\nthis new arrangement, but it was carried out, and the first year the\nmeadows had yielded a profit almost double. The previous year--which was\nthe third year--the peasants had maintained the same opposition to the\narrangement, and the hay had been cut on the same system. This year the\npeasants were doing all the mowing for a third of the hay crop, and the\nvillage elder had come now to announce that the hay had been cut, and\nthat, fearing rain, they had invited the counting-house clerk over, had\ndivided the crop in his presence, and had raked together eleven stacks\nas the owner's share. From the vague answers to his question how much\nhay had been cut on the principal meadow, from the hurry of the village\nelder who had made the division, not asking leave, from the whole tone\nof the peasant, Levin perceived that there was something wrong in the\ndivision of the hay, and made up his mind to drive over himself to look\ninto the matter.\n\nArriving for dinner at the village, and leaving his horse at the cottage\nof an old friend of his, the husband of his brother's wet-nurse, Levin\nwent to see the old man in his bee-house, wanting to find out from him\nthe truth about the hay. Parmenitch, a talkative, comely old man, gave\nLevin a very warm welcome, showed him all he was doing, told him\neverything about his bees and the swarms of that year; but gave vague\nand unwilling answers to Levin's inquiries about the mowing. This\nconfirmed Levin still more in his suspicions. He went to the hay fields\nand examined the stacks. The haystacks could not possibly contain fifty\nwagon-loads each, and to convict the peasants Levin ordered the wagons\nthat had carried the hay to be brought up directly, to lift one stack,\nand carry it into the barn. There turned out to be only thirty-two loads\nin the stack. In spite of the village elder's assertions about the\ncompressibility of hay, and its having settled down in the stacks, and\nhis swearing that everything had been done in the fear of God, Levin\nstuck to his point that the hay had been divided without his orders, and\nthat, therefore, he would not accept that hay as fifty loads to a stack.\nAfter a prolonged dispute the matter was decided by the peasants taking\nthese eleven stacks, reckoning them as fifty loads each. The arguments\nand the division of the haycocks lasted the whole afternoon. When the\nlast of the hay had been divided, Levin, intrusting the superintendence\nof the rest to the counting-house clerk, sat down on a haycock marked\noff by a stake of willow, and looked admiringly at the meadow swarming\nwith peasants.\n\nIn front of him, in the bend of the river beyond the marsh, moved a\nbright-colored line of peasant women, and the scattered hay was being\nrapidly formed into gray winding rows over the pale green stubble. After\nthe women came the men with pitchforks, and from the gray rows there\nwere growing up broad, high, soft haycocks. To the left, carts were\nrumbling over the meadow that had been already cleared, and one after\nanother the haycocks vanished, flung up in huge forkfuls, and in their\nplace there were rising heavy cartloads of fragrant hay hanging over the\nhorses' hind-quarters.\n\n\"What weather for haying! What hay it'll be!\" said an old man, squatting\ndown beside Levin. \"It's tea, not hay! It's like scattering grain to the\nducks, the way they pick it up!\" he added, pointing to the growing\nhaycocks. \"Since dinnertime they've carried a good half of it.\"\n\n\"The last load, eh?\" he shouted to a young peasant, who drove by,\nstanding in the front of an empty cart, shaking the cord reins.\n\n\"The last, dad!\" the lad shouted back, pulling in the horse, and,\nsmiling, he looked round at a bright, rosy-checked peasant girl who sat\nin the cart smiling too, and drove on.\n\n\"Who's that? Your son?\" asked Levin.\n\n\"My baby,\" said the old man with a tender smile.\n\n\"What a fine fellow!\"\n\n\"The lad's all right.\"\n\n\"Married already?\"\n\n\"Yes, it's two years last St. Philip's day.\"\n\n\"Any children?\"\n\n\"Children indeed! Why, for over a year he was innocent as a babe\nhimself, and bashful too,\" answered the old man. \"Well, the hay! It's as\nfragrant as tea!\" he repeated, wishing to change the subject.\n\nLevin looked more attentively at Ivan Parmenov and his wife. They were\nloading a haycock onto the cart not far from him. Ivan Parmenov was\nstanding on the cart, taking, laying in place, and stamping down the\nhuge bundles of hay, which his pretty young wife deftly handed up to\nhim, at first in armfuls, and then on the pitchfork. The young wife\nworked easily, merrily, and dexterously. The close-packed hay did not\nonce break away off her fork. First she gathered it together, stuck the\nfork into it, then with a rapid, supple movement leaned the whole weight\nof her body on it, and at once with a bend of her back under the red\nbelt she drew herself up, and arching her full bosom under the white\nsmock, with a smart turn swung the fork in her arms, and flung the\nbundle of hay high onto the cart. Ivan, obviously doing his best to save\nher every minute of unnecessary labor, made haste, opening his arms to\nclutch the bundle and lay it in the cart. As she raked together what was\nleft of the hay, the young wife shook off the bits of hay that had\nfallen on her neck, and straightening the red kerchief that had dropped\nforward over her white brow, not browned like her face by the sun, she\ncrept under the cart to tie up the load. Ivan directed her how to fasten\nthe cord to the cross-piece, and at something she said he laughed aloud.\nIn the expressions of both faces was to be seen vigorous, young, freshly\nawakened love.\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\n\nThe load was tied on. Ivan jumped down and took the quiet, sleek horse\nby the bridle. The young wife flung the rake up on the load, and with a\nbold step, swinging her arms, she went to join the women, who were\nforming a ring for the haymakers' dance. Ivan drove off to the road and\nfell into line with the other loaded carts. The peasant women, with\ntheir rakes on their shoulders, gay with bright flowers, and chattering\nwith ringing, merry voices, walked behind the hay cart. One wild\nuntrained female voice broke into a song, and sang it alone through a\nverse, and then the same verse was taken up and repeated by half a\nhundred strong healthy voices, of all sorts, coarse and fine, singing in\nunison.\n\nThe women, all singing, began to come close to Levin, and he felt as\nthough a storm were swooping down upon him with a thunder of merriment.\nThe storm swooped down, enveloped him and the haycock on which he was\nlying, and the other haycocks, and the wagon-loads, and the whole meadow\nand distant fields all seemed to be shaking and singing to the measures\nof this wild merry song with its shouts and whistles and clapping. Levin\nfelt envious of this health and mirthfulness; he longed to take part in\nthe expression of this joy of life. But he could do nothing, and had to\nlie and look on and listen. When the peasants, with their singing, had\nvanished out of sight and hearing, a weary feeling of despondency at his\nown isolation, his physical inactivity, his alienation from this world,\ncame over Levin.\n\nSome of the very peasants who had been most active in wrangling with him\nover the hay, some whom he had treated with contumely, and who had tried\nto cheat him, those very peasants had greeted him goodhumoredly, and\nevidently had not, were incapable of having any feeling of rancor\nagainst him, any regret, any recollection even of having tried to\ndeceive him. All that was drowned in a sea of merry common labor. God\ngave the day, God gave the strength. And the day and the strength were\nconsecrated to labor, and that labor was its own reward. For whom the\nlabor? What would be its fruits? These were idle considerations--beside\nthe point.\n\nOften Levin had admired this life, often he had a sense of envy of the\nmen who led this life; but today for the first time, especially under\nthe influence of what he had seen in the attitude of Ivan Parmenov to\nhis young wife, the idea presented itself definitely to his mind that it\nwas in his power to exchange the dreary, artificial, idle, and\nindividualistic life he was leading for this laborious, pure, and\nsocially delightful life.\n\nThe old man who had been sitting beside him had long ago gone home; the\npeople had all separated. Those who lived near had gone home, while\nthose who came from far were gathered into a group for supper, and to\nspend the night in the meadow. Levin, unobserved by the peasants, still\nlay on the haycock, and still looked on and listened and mused. The\npeasants who remained for the night in the meadow scarcely slept all the\nshort summer night. At first there was the sound of merry talk and\nlaughing all together over the supper, then singing again and laughter.\n\nAll the long day of toil had left no trace in them but lightness of\nheart. Before the early dawn all was hushed. Nothing was to be heard but\nthe night sounds of the frogs that never ceased in the marsh, and the\nhorses snorting in the mist that rose over the meadow before the\nmorning. Rousing himself, Levin got up from the haycock, and looking at\nthe stars, he saw that the night was over.\n\n\"Well, what am I going to do? How am I to set about it?\" he said to\nhimself, trying to express to himself all the thoughts and feelings he\nhad passed through in that brief night. All the thoughts and feelings he\nhad passed through fell into three separate trains of thought. One was\nthe renunciation of his old life, of his utterly useless education. This\nrenunciation gave him satisfaction, and was easy and simple. Another\nseries of thoughts and mental images related to the life he longed to\nlive now. The simplicity, the purity, the sanity of this life he felt\nclearly, and he was convinced he would find in it the content, the\npeace, and the dignity, of the lack of which he was so miserably\nconscious. But a third series of ideas turned upon the question how to\neffect this transition from the old life to the new. And there nothing\ntook clear shape for him. \"Have a wife? Have work and the necessity of\nwork? Leave Pokrovskoe? Buy land? Become a member of a peasant\ncommunity? Marry a peasant girl? How am I to set about it?\" he asked\nhimself again, and could not find an answer. \"I haven't slept all night,\nthough, and I can't think it out clearly,\" he said to himself. \"I'll\nwork it out later. One thing's certain, this night has decided my fate.\nAll my old dreams of home life were absurd, not the real thing,\" he told\nhimself. \"It's all ever so much simpler and better...\"\n\n\"How beautiful!\" he thought, looking at the strange, as it were,\nmother-of-pearl shell of white fleecy cloudlets resting right over his\nhead in the middle of the sky. \"How exquisite it all is in this\nexquisite night! And when was there time for that cloud-shell to form?\nJust now I looked at the sky, and there was nothing in it--only two\nwhite streaks. Yes, and so imperceptibly too my views of life changed!\"\n\nHe went out of the meadow and walked along the highroad towards the\nvillage. A slight wind arose, and the sky looked gray and sullen. The\ngloomy moment had come that usually precedes the dawn, the full triumph\nof light over darkness.\n\nShrinking from the cold, Levin walked rapidly, looking at the ground.\n\"What's that? Someone coming,\" he thought, catching the tinkle of bells,\nand lifting his head. Forty paces from him a carriage with four horses\nharnessed abreast was driving towards him along the grassy road on which\nhe was walking. The shaft-horses were tilted against the shafts by the\nruts, but the dexterous driver sitting on the box held the shaft over\nthe ruts, so that the wheels ran on the smooth part of the road.\n\nThis was all Levin noticed, and without wondering who it could be, he\ngazed absently at the coach.\n\nIn the coach was an old lady dozing in one corner, and at the window,\nevidently only just awake, sat a young girl holding in both hands the\nribbons of a white cap. With a face full of light and thought, full of a\nsubtle, complex inner life, that was remote from Levin, she was gazing\nbeyond him at the glow of the sunrise.\n\nAt the very instant when this apparition was vanishing, the truthful\neyes glanced at him. She recognized him, and her face lighted up with\nwondering delight.\n\nHe could not be mistaken. There were no other eyes like those in the\nworld. There was only one creature in the world that could concentrate\nfor him all the brightness and meaning of life. It was she. It was\nKitty. He understood that she was driving to Ergushovo from the railway\nstation. And everything that had been stirring Levin during that\nsleepless night, all the resolutions he had made, all vanished at once.\nHe recalled with horror his dreams of marrying a peasant girl. There\nonly, in the carriage that had crossed over to the other side of the\nroad, and was rapidly disappearing, there only could he find the\nsolution of the riddle of his life, which had weighed so agonizingly\nupon him of late.\n\nShe did not look out again. The sound of the carriage-springs was no\nlonger audible, the bells could scarcely be heard. The barking of dogs\nshowed the carriage had reached the village, and all that was left was\nthe empty fields all round, the village in front, and he himself\nisolated and apart from it all, wandering lonely along the deserted\nhighroad.\n\nHe glanced at the sky, expecting to find there the cloud shell he had\nbeen admiring and taking as the symbol of the ideas and feelings of that\nnight. There was nothing in the sky in the least like a shell. There, in\nthe remote heights above, a mysterious change had been accomplished.\nThere was no trace of shell, and there was stretched over fully half the\nsky an even cover of tiny and ever tinier cloudlets. The sky had grown\nblue and bright; and with the same softness, but with the same\nremoteness, it met his questioning gaze.\n\n\"No,\" he said to himself, \"however good that life of simplicity and toil\nmay be, I cannot go back to it. I love _her_.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\n\nNone but those who were most intimate with Alexey Alexandrovitch knew\nthat, while on the surface the coldest and most reasonable of men, he\nhad one weakness quite opposed to the general trend of his character.\nAlexey Alexandrovitch could not hear or see a child or woman crying\nwithout being moved. The sight of tears threw him into a state of\nnervous agitation, and he utterly lost all power of reflection. The\nchief secretary of his department and his private secretary were aware\nof this, and used to warn women who came with petitions on no account to\ngive way to tears, if they did not want to ruin their chances. \"He will\nget angry, and will not listen to you,\" they used to say. And as a fact,\nin such cases the emotional disturbance set up in Alexey Alexandrovitch\nby the sight of tears found expression in hasty anger. \"I can do\nnothing. Kindly leave the room!\" he would commonly cry in such cases.\n\nWhen returning from the races Anna had informed him of her relations\nwith Vronsky, and immediately afterwards had burst into tears, hiding\nher face in her hands, Alexey Alexandrovitch, for all the fury aroused\nin him against her, was aware at the same time of a rush of that\nemotional disturbance always produced in him by tears. Conscious of it,\nand conscious that any expression of his feelings at that minute would\nbe out of keeping with the position, he tried to suppress every\nmanifestation of life in himself, and so neither stirred nor looked at\nher. This was what had caused that strange expression of deathlike\nrigidity in his face which had so impressed Anna.\n\nWhen they reached the house he helped her to get out of the carriage,\nand making an effort to master himself, took leave of her with his usual\nurbanity, and uttered that phrase that bound him to nothing; he said\nthat tomorrow he would let her know his decision.\n\nHis wife's words, confirming his worst suspicions, had sent a cruel pang\nto the heart of Alexey Alexandrovitch. That pang was intensified by the\nstrange feeling of physical pity for her set up by her tears. But when\nhe was all alone in the carriage Alexey Alexandrovitch, to his surprise\nand delight, felt complete relief both from this pity and from the\ndoubts and agonies of jealousy.\n\nHe experienced the sensations of a man who has had a tooth out after\nsuffering long from toothache. After a fearful agony and a sense of\nsomething huge, bigger than the head itself, being torn out of his jaw,\nthe sufferer, hardly able to believe in his own good luck, feels all at\nonce that what has so long poisoned his existence and enchained his\nattention, exists no longer, and that he can live and think again, and\ntake interest in other things besides his tooth. This feeling Alexey\nAlexandrovitch was experiencing. The agony had been strange and\nterrible, but now it was over; he felt that he could live again and\nthink of something other than his wife.\n\n\"No honor, no heart, no religion; a corrupt woman. I always knew it and\nalways saw it, though I tried to deceive myself to spare her,\" he said\nto himself. And it actually seemed to him that he always had seen it: he\nrecalled incidents of their past life, in which he had never seen\nanything wrong before--now these incidents proved clearly that she had\nalways been a corrupt woman. \"I made a mistake in linking my life to\nhers; but there was nothing wrong in my mistake, and so I cannot be\nunhappy. It's not I that am to blame,\" he told himself, \"but she. But I\nhave nothing to do with her. She does not exist for me...\"\n\nEverything relating to her and her son, towards whom his sentiments were\nas much changed as towards her, ceased to interest him. The only thing\nthat interested him now was the question of in what way he could best,\nwith most propriety and comfort for himself, and thus with most justice,\nextricate himself from the mud with which she had spattered him in her\nfall, and then proceed along his path of active, honorable, and useful\nexistence.\n\n\"I cannot be made unhappy by the fact that a contemptible woman has\ncommitted a crime. I have only to find the best way out of the difficult\nposition in which she has placed me. And I shall find it,\" he said to\nhimself, frowning more and more. \"I'm not the first nor the last.\" And\nto say nothing of historical instances dating from the \"Fair Helen\" of\nMenelaus, recently revived in the memory of all, a whole list of\ncontemporary examples of husbands with unfaithful wives in the highest\nsociety rose before Alexey Alexandrovitch's imagination. \"Daryalov,\nPoltavsky, Prince Karibanov, Count Paskudin, Dram.... Yes, even Dram,\nsuch an honest, capable fellow ... Semyonov, Tchagin, Sigonin,\" Alexey\nAlexandrovitch remembered. \"Admitting that a certain quite irrational\n_ridicule_ falls to the lot of these men, yet I never saw anything but a\nmisfortune in it, and always felt sympathy for it,\" Alexey\nAlexandrovitch said to himself, though indeed this was not the fact, and\nhe had never felt sympathy for misfortunes of that kind, but the more\nfrequently he had heard of instances of unfaithful wives betraying their\nhusbands, the more highly he had thought of himself. \"It is a misfortune\nwhich may befall anyone. And this misfortune has befallen me. The only\nthing to be done is to make the best of the position.\"\n\nAnd he began passing in review the methods of proceeding of men who had\nbeen in the same position that he was in.\n\n\"Daryalov fought a duel....\"\n\nThe duel had particularly fascinated the thoughts of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch in his youth, just because he was physically a coward,\nand was himself well aware of the fact. Alexey Alexandrovitch could not\nwithout horror contemplate the idea of a pistol aimed at himself, and\nhad never made use of any weapon in his life. This horror had in his\nyouth set him pondering on dueling, and picturing himself in a position\nin which he would have to expose his life to danger. Having attained\nsuccess and an established position in the world, he had long ago\nforgotten this feeling; but the habitual bent of feeling reasserted\nitself, and dread of his own cowardice proved even now so strong that\nAlexey Alexandrovitch spent a long while thinking over the question of\ndueling in all its aspects, and hugging the idea of a duel, though he\nwas fully aware beforehand that he would never under any circumstances\nfight one.\n\n\"There's no doubt our society is still so barbarous (it's not the same\nin England) that very many\"--and among these were those whose opinion\nAlexey Alexandrovitch particularly valued--\"look favorably on the duel;\nbut what result is attained by it? Suppose I call him out,\" Alexey\nAlexandrovitch went on to himself, and vividly picturing the night he\nwould spend after the challenge, and the pistol aimed at him, he\nshuddered, and knew that he never would do it--\"suppose I call him out.\nSuppose I am taught,\" he went on musing, \"to shoot; I press the\ntrigger,\" he said to himself, closing his eyes, \"and it turns out I have\nkilled him,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch said to himself, and he shook his\nhead as though to dispel such silly ideas. \"What sense is there in\nmurdering a man in order to define one's relation to a guilty wife and\nson? I should still just as much have to decide what I ought to do with\nher. But what is more probable and what would doubtless occur--I should\nbe killed or wounded. I, the innocent person, should be the\nvictim--killed or wounded. It's even more senseless. But apart from\nthat, a challenge to fight would be an act hardly honest on my side.\nDon't I know perfectly well that my friends would never allow me to\nfight a duel--would never allow the life of a statesman, needed by\nRussia, to be exposed to danger? Knowing perfectly well beforehand that\nthe matter would never come to real danger, it would amount to my simply\ntrying to gain a certain sham reputation by such a challenge. That would\nbe dishonest, that would be false, that would be deceiving myself and\nothers. A duel is quite irrational, and no one expects it of me. My aim\nis simply to safeguard my reputation, which is essential for the\nuninterrupted pursuit of my public duties.\" Official duties, which had\nalways been of great consequence in Alexey Alexandrovitch's eyes, seemed\nof special importance to his mind at this moment. Considering and\nrejecting the duel, Alexey Alexandrovitch turned to divorce--another\nsolution selected by several of the husbands he remembered. Passing in\nmental review all the instances he knew of divorces (there were plenty\nof them in the very highest society with which he was very familiar),\nAlexey Alexandrovitch could not find a single example in which the\nobject of divorce was that which he had in view. In all these instances\nthe husband had practically ceded or sold his unfaithful wife, and the\nvery party which, being in fault, had not the right to contract a fresh\nmarriage, had formed counterfeit, pseudo-matrimonial ties with a\nself-styled husband. In his own case, Alexey Alexandrovitch saw that a\nlegal divorce, that is to say, one in which only the guilty wife would\nbe repudiated, was impossible of attainment. He saw that the complex\nconditions of the life they led made the coarse proofs of his wife's\nguilt, required by the law, out of the question; he saw that a certain\nrefinement in that life would not admit of such proofs being brought\nforward, even if he had them, and that to bring forward such proofs\nwould damage him in the public estimation more than it would her.\n\nAn attempt at divorce could lead to nothing but a public scandal, which\nwould be a perfect godsend to his enemies for calumny and attacks on his\nhigh position in society. His chief object, to define the position with\nthe least amount of disturbance possible, would not be attained by\ndivorce either. Moreover, in the event of divorce, or even of an attempt\nto obtain a divorce, it was obvious that the wife broke off all\nrelations with the husband and threw in her lot with the lover. And in\nspite of the complete, as he supposed, contempt and indifference he now\nfelt for his wife, at the bottom of his heart Alexey Alexandrovitch\nstill had one feeling left in regard to her--a disinclination to see her\nfree to throw in her lot with Vronsky, so that her crime would be to her\nadvantage. The mere notion of this so exasperated Alexey Alexandrovitch,\nthat directly it rose to his mind he groaned with inward agony, and got\nup and changed his place in the carriage, and for a long while after, he\nsat with scowling brows, wrapping his numbed and bony legs in the fleecy\nrug.\n\n\"Apart from formal divorce, One might still do like Karibanov, Paskudin,\nand that good fellow Dram--that is, separate from one's wife,\" he went\non thinking, when he had regained his composure. But this step too\npresented the same drawback of public scandal as a divorce, and what was\nmore, a separation, quite as much as a regular divorce, flung his wife\ninto the arms of Vronsky. \"No, it's out of the question, out of the\nquestion!\" he said again, twisting his rug about him again. \"I cannot be\nunhappy, but neither she nor he ought to be happy.\"\n\nThe feeling of jealousy, which had tortured him during the period of\nuncertainty, had passed away at the instant when the tooth had been with\nagony extracted by his wife's words. But that feeling had been replaced\nby another, the desire, not merely that she should not be triumphant,\nbut that she should get due punishment for her crime. He did not\nacknowledge this feeling, but at the bottom of his heart he longed for\nher to suffer for having destroyed his peace of mind--his honor. And\ngoing once again over the conditions inseparable from a duel, a divorce,\na separation, and once again rejecting them, Alexey Alexandrovitch felt\nconvinced that there was only one solution,--to keep her with him,\nconcealing what had happened from the world, and using every measure in\nhis power to break off the intrigue, and still more--though this he did\nnot admit to himself--to punish her. \"I must inform her of my\nconclusion, that thinking over the terrible position in which she has\nplaced her family, all other solutions will be worse for both sides than\nan external _status quo_, and that such I agree to retain, on the strict\ncondition of obedience on her part to my wishes, that is to say,\ncessation of all intercourse with her lover.\" When this decision had\nbeen finally adopted, another weighty consideration occurred to Alexey\nAlexandrovitch in support of it. \"By such a course only shall I be\nacting in accordance with the dictates of religion,\" he told himself.\n\"In adopting this course, I am not casting off a guilty wife, but giving\nher a chance of amendment; and, indeed, difficult as the task will be to\nme, I shall devote part of my energies to her reformation and\nsalvation.\"\n\nThough Alexey Alexandrovitch was perfectly aware that he could not exert\nany moral influence over his wife, that such an attempt at reformation\ncould lead to nothing but falsity; though in passing through these\ndifficult moments he had not once thought of seeking guidance in\nreligion, yet now, when his conclusion corresponded, as it seemed to\nhim, with the requirements of religion, this religious sanction to his\ndecision gave him complete satisfaction, and to some extent restored his\npeace of mind. He was pleased to think that, even in such an important\ncrisis in life, no one would be able to say that he had not acted in\naccordance with the principles of that religion whose banner he had\nalways held aloft amid the general coolness and indifference. As he\npondered over subsequent developments, Alexey Alexandrovitch did not\nsee, indeed, why his relations with his wife should not remain\npractically the same as before. No doubt, she could never regain his\nesteem, but there was not, and there could not be, any sort of reason\nthat his existence should be troubled, and that he should suffer because\nshe was a bad and faithless wife. \"Yes, time will pass; time, which\narranges all things, and the old relations will be reestablished,\"\nAlexey Alexandrovitch told himself; \"so far reestablished, that is, that\nI shall not be sensible of a break in the continuity of my life. She is\nbound to be unhappy, but I am not to blame, and so I cannot be unhappy.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\n\nAs he neared Petersburg, Alexey Alexandrovitch not only adhered entirely\nto his decision, but was even composing in his head the letter he would\nwrite to his wife. Going into the porter's room, Alexey Alexandrovitch\nglanced at the letters and papers brought from his office, and directed\nthat they should be brought to him in his study.\n\n\"The horses can be taken out and I will see no one,\" he said in answer\nto the porter, with a certain pleasure, indicative of his agreeable\nframe of mind, emphasizing the words, \"see no one.\"\n\nIn his study Alexey Alexandrovitch walked up and down twice, and stopped\nat an immense writing-table, on which six candles had already been\nlighted by the valet who had preceded him. He cracked his knuckles and\nsat down, sorting out his writing appurtenances. Putting his elbows on\nthe table, he bent his head on one side, thought a minute, and began to\nwrite, without pausing for a second. He wrote without using any form of\naddress to her, and wrote in French, making use of the plural \"_vous_,\"\nwhich has not the same note of coldness as the corresponding Russian\nform.\n\n \"At our last conversation, I notified you of my intention to\n communicate to you my decision in regard to the subject of that\n conversation. Having carefully considered everything, I am\n writing now with the object of fulfilling that promise. My\n decision is as follows. Whatever your conduct may have been, I\n do not consider myself justified in breaking the ties in which\n we are bound by a Higher Power. The family cannot be broken up\n by a whim, a caprice, or even by the sin of one of the partners\n in the marriage, and our life must go on as it has done in the\n past. This is essential for me, for you, and for our son. I am\n fully persuaded that you have repented and do repent of what has\n called forth the present letter, and that you will cooperate\n with me in eradicating the cause of our estrangement, and\n forgetting the past. In the contrary event, you can conjecture\n what awaits you and your son. All this I hope to discuss more in\n detail in a personal interview. As the season is drawing to a\n close, I would beg you to return to Petersburg as quickly as\n possible, not later than Tuesday. All necessary preparations\n shall be made for your arrival here. I beg you to note that I\n attach particular significance to compliance with this request.\n\n A. Karenin\n\n \"P.S.--I enclose the money which may be needed for your\n expenses.\"\n\nHe read the letter through and felt pleased with it, and especially that\nhe had remembered to enclose money: there was not a harsh word, not a\nreproach in it, nor was there undue indulgence. Most of all, it was a\ngolden bridge for return. Folding the letter and smoothing it with a\nmassive ivory knife, and putting it in an envelope with the money, he\nrang the bell with the gratification it always afforded him to use the\nwell arranged appointments of his writing-table.\n\n\"Give this to the courier to be delivered to Anna Arkadyevna tomorrow at\nthe summer villa,\" he said, getting up.\n\n\"Certainly, your excellency; tea to be served in the study?\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch ordered tea to be brought to the study, and\nplaying with the massive paper-knife, he moved to his easy chair, near\nwhich there had been placed ready for him a lamp and the French work on\nEgyptian hieroglyphics that he had begun. Over the easy chair there hung\nin a gold frame an oval portrait of Anna, a fine painting by a\ncelebrated artist. Alexey Alexandrovitch glanced at it. The unfathomable\neyes gazed ironically and insolently at him. Insufferably insolent and\nchallenging was the effect in Alexey Alexandrovitch's eyes of the black\nlace about the head, admirably touched in by the painter, the black hair\nand handsome white hand with one finger lifted, covered with rings.\nAfter looking at the portrait for a minute, Alexey Alexandrovitch\nshuddered so that his lips quivered and he uttered the sound \"brrr,\" and\nturned away. He made haste to sit down in his easy chair and opened the\nbook. He tried to read, but he could not revive the very vivid interest\nhe had felt before in Egyptian hieroglyphics. He looked at the book and\nthought of something else. He thought not of his wife, but of a\ncomplication that had arisen in his official life, which at the time\nconstituted the chief interest of it. He felt that he had penetrated\nmore deeply than ever before into this intricate affair, and that he had\noriginated a leading idea--he could say it without\nself-flattery--calculated to clear up the whole business, to strengthen\nhim in his official career, to discomfit his enemies, and thereby to be\nof the greatest benefit to the government. Directly the servant had set\nthe tea and left the room, Alexey Alexandrovitch got up and went to the\nwriting-table. Moving into the middle of the table a portfolio of\npapers, with a scarcely perceptible smile of self-satisfaction, he took\na pencil from a rack and plunged into the perusal of a complex report\nrelating to the present complication. The complication was of this\nnature: Alexey Alexandrovitch's characteristic quality as a politician,\nthat special individual qualification that every rising functionary\npossesses, the qualification that with his unflagging ambition, his\nreserve, his honesty, and with his self-confidence had made his career,\nwas his contempt for red tape, his cutting down of correspondence, his\ndirect contact, wherever possible, with the living fact, and his\neconomy. It happened that the famous Commission of the 2nd of June had\nset on foot an inquiry into the irrigation of lands in the Zaraisky\nprovince, which fell under Alexey Alexandrovitch's department, and was a\nglaring example of fruitless expenditure and paper reforms. Alexey\nAlexandrovitch was aware of the truth of this. The irrigation of these\nlands in the Zaraisky province had been initiated by the predecessor of\nAlexey Alexandrovitch's predecessor. And vast sums of money had actually\nbeen spent and were still being spent on this business, and utterly\nunproductively, and the whole business could obviously lead to nothing\nwhatever. Alexey Alexandrovitch had perceived this at once on entering\noffice, and would have liked to lay hands on the Board of Irrigation.\nBut at first, when he did not yet feel secure in his position, he knew\nit would affect too many interests, and would be injudicious. Later on\nhe had been engrossed in other questions, and had simply forgotten the\nBoard of Irrigation. It went of itself, like all such boards, by the\nmere force of inertia. (Many people gained their livelihood by the Board\nof Irrigation, especially one highly conscientious and musical family:\nall the daughters played on stringed instruments, and Alexey\nAlexandrovitch knew the family and had stood godfather to one of the\nelder daughters.) The raising of this question by a hostile department\nwas in Alexey Alexandrovitch's opinion a dishonorable proceeding, seeing\nthat in every department there were things similar and worse, which no\none inquired into, for well-known reasons of official etiquette.\nHowever, now that the glove had been thrown down to him, he had boldly\npicked it up and demanded the appointment of a special commission to\ninvestigate and verify the working of the Board of Irrigation of the\nlands in the Zaraisky province. But in compensation he gave no quarter\nto the enemy either. He demanded the appointment of another special\ncommission to inquire into the question of the Native Tribes\nOrganization Committee. The question of the Native Tribes had been\nbrought up incidentally in the Commission of the 2nd of June, and had\nbeen pressed forward actively by Alexey Alexandrovitch as one admitting\nof no delay on account of the deplorable condition of the native tribes.\nIn the commission this question had been a ground of contention between\nseveral departments. The department hostile to Alexey Alexandrovitch\nproved that the condition of the native tribes was exceedingly\nflourishing, that the proposed reconstruction might be the ruin of their\nprosperity, and that if there were anything wrong, it arose mainly from\nthe failure on the part of Alexey Alexandrovitch's department to carry\nout the measures prescribed by law. Now Alexey Alexandrovitch intended\nto demand: First, that a new commission should be formed which should be\nempowered to investigate the condition of the native tribes on the spot;\nsecondly, if it should appear that the condition of the native tribes\nactually was such as it appeared to be from the official documents in\nthe hands of the committee, that another new scientific commission\nshould be appointed to investigate the deplorable condition of the\nnative tribes from the--(1) political, (2) administrative, (3) economic,\n(4) ethnographical, (5) material, and (6) religious points of view;\nthirdly, that evidence should be required from the rival department of\nthe measures that had been taken during the last ten years by that\ndepartment for averting the disastrous conditions in which the native\ntribes were now placed; and fourthly and finally, that that department\nexplain why it had, as appeared from the evidence before the committee,\nfrom No. 17,015 and 18,038, from December 5, 1863, and June 7, 1864,\nacted in direct contravention of the intent of the law T... Act 18, and\nthe note to Act 36. A flash of eagerness suffused the face of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch as he rapidly wrote out a synopsis of these ideas for his\nown benefit. Having filled a sheet of paper, he got up, rang, and sent a\nnote to the chief secretary of his department to look up certain\nnecessary facts for him. Getting up and walking about the room, he\nglanced again at the portrait, frowned, and smiled contemptuously. After\nreading a little more of the book on Egyptian hieroglyphics, and\nrenewing his interest in it, Alexey Alexandrovitch went to bed at eleven\no'clock, and recollecting as he lay in bed the incident with his wife,\nhe saw it now in by no means such a gloomy light.\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\n\nThough Anna had obstinately and with exasperation contradicted Vronsky\nwhen he told her their position was impossible, at the bottom of her\nheart she regarded her own position as false and dishonorable, and she\nlonged with her whole soul to change it. On the way home from the races\nshe had told her husband the truth in a moment of excitement, and in\nspite of the agony she had suffered in doing so, she was glad of it.\nAfter her husband had left her, she told herself that she was glad, that\nnow everything was made clear, and at least there would be no more lying\nand deception. It seemed to her beyond doubt that her position was now\nmade clear forever. It might be bad, this new position, but it would be\nclear; there would be no indefiniteness or falsehood about it. The pain\nshe had caused herself and her husband in uttering those words would be\nrewarded now by everything being made clear, she thought. That evening\nshe saw Vronsky, but she did not tell him of what had passed between her\nand her husband, though, to make the position definite, it was necessary\nto tell him.\n\nWhen she woke up next morning the first thing that rose to her mind was\nwhat she had said to her husband, and those words seemed to her so awful\nthat she could not conceive now how she could have brought herself to\nutter those strange, coarse words, and could not imagine what would come\nof it. But the words were spoken, and Alexey Alexandrovitch had gone\naway without saying anything. \"I saw Vronsky and did not tell him. At\nthe very instant he was going away I would have turned him back and told\nhim, but I changed my mind, because it was strange that I had not told\nhim the first minute. Why was it I wanted to tell him and did not tell\nhim?\" And in answer to this question a burning blush of shame spread\nover her face. She knew what had kept her from it, she knew that she had\nbeen ashamed. Her position, which had seemed to her simplified the night\nbefore, suddenly struck her now as not only not simple, but as\nabsolutely hopeless. She felt terrified at the disgrace, of which she\nhad not ever thought before. Directly she thought of what her husband\nwould do, the most terrible ideas came to her mind. She had a vision of\nbeing turned out of the house, of her shame being proclaimed to all the\nworld. She asked herself where she should go when she was turned out of\nthe house, and she could not find an answer.\n\nWhen she thought of Vronsky, it seemed to her that he did not love her,\nthat he was already beginning to be tired of her, that she could not\noffer herself to him, and she felt bitter against him for it. It seemed\nto her that the words that she had spoken to her husband, and had\ncontinually repeated in her imagination, she had said to everyone, and\neveryone had heard them. She could not bring herself to look those of\nher own household in the face. She could not bring herself to call her\nmaid, and still less go downstairs and see her son and his governess.\n\nThe maid, who had been listening at her door for a long while, came into\nher room of her own accord. Anna glanced inquiringly into her face, and\nblushed with a scared look. The maid begged her pardon for coming in,\nsaying that she had fancied the bell rang. She brought her clothes and a\nnote. The note was from Betsy. Betsy reminded her that Liza Merkalova\nand Baroness Shtoltz were coming to play croquet with her that morning\nwith their adorers, Kaluzhsky and old Stremov. \"Come, if only as a study\nin morals. I shall expect you,\" she finished.\n\nAnna read the note and heaved a deep sigh.\n\n\"Nothing, I need nothing,\" she said to Annushka, who was rearranging the\nbottles and brushes on the dressing table. \"You can go. I'll dress at\nonce and come down. I need nothing.\"\n\nAnnushka went out, but Anna did not begin dressing, and sat in the same\nposition, her head and hands hanging listlessly, and every now and then\nshe shivered all over, seemed as though she would make some gesture,\nutter some word, and sank back into lifelessness again. She repeated\ncontinually, \"My God! my God!\" But neither \"God\" nor \"my\" had any\nmeaning to her. The idea of seeking help in her difficulty in religion\nwas as remote from her as seeking help from Alexey Alexandrovitch\nhimself, although she had never had doubts of the faith in which she had\nbeen brought up. She knew that the support of religion was possible only\nupon condition of renouncing what made up for her the whole meaning of\nlife. She was not simply miserable, she began to feel alarm at the new\nspiritual condition, never experienced before, in which she found\nherself. She felt as though everything were beginning to be double in\nher soul, just as objects sometimes appear double to over-tired eyes.\nShe hardly knew at times what it was she feared, and what she hoped for.\nWhether she feared or desired what had happened, or what was going to\nhappen, and exactly what she longed for, she could not have said.\n\n\"Ah, what am I doing!\" she said to herself, feeling a sudden thrill of\npain in both sides of her head. When she came to herself, she saw that\nshe was holding her hair in both hands, each side of her temples, and\npulling it. She jumped up, and began walking about.\n\n\"The coffee is ready, and mademoiselle and Seryozha are waiting,\" said\nAnnushka, coming back again and finding Anna in the same position.\n\n\"Seryozha? What about Seryozha?\" Anna asked, with sudden eagerness,\nrecollecting her son's existence for the first time that morning.\n\n\"He's been naughty, I think,\" answered Annushka with a smile.\n\n\"In what way?\"\n\n\"Some peaches were lying on the table in the corner room. I think he\nslipped in and ate one of them on the sly.\"\n\nThe recollection of her son suddenly roused Anna from the helpless\ncondition in which she found herself. She recalled the partly sincere,\nthough greatly exaggerated, role of the mother living for her child,\nwhich she had taken up of late years, and she felt with joy that in the\nplight in which she found herself she had a support, quite apart from\nher relation to her husband or to Vronsky. This support was her son. In\nwhatever position she might be placed, she could not lose her son. Her\nhusband might put her to shame and turn her out, Vronsky might grow cold\nto her and go on living his own life apart (she thought of him again\nwith bitterness and reproach); she could not leave her son. She had an\naim in life. And she must act; act to secure this relation to her son,\nso that he might not be taken from her. Quickly indeed, as quickly as\npossible, she must take action before he was taken from her. She must\ntake her son and go away. Here was the one thing she had to do now. She\nneeded consolation. She must be calm, and get out of this insufferable\nposition. The thought of immediate action binding her to her son, of\ngoing away somewhere with him, gave her this consolation.\n\nShe dressed quickly, went downstairs, and with resolute steps walked\ninto the drawing room, where she found, as usual, waiting for her, the\ncoffee, Seryozha, and his governess. Seryozha, all in white, with his\nback and head bent, was standing at a table under a looking-glass, and\nwith an expression of intense concentration which she knew well, and in\nwhich he resembled his father, he was doing something to the flowers he\ncarried.\n\nThe governess had a particularly severe expression. Seryozha screamed\nshrilly, as he often did, \"Ah, mamma!\" and stopped, hesitating whether\nto go to greet his mother and put down the flowers, or to finish making\nthe wreath and go with the flowers.\n\nThe governess, after saying good-morning, began a long and detailed\naccount of Seryozha's naughtiness, but Anna did not hear her; she was\nconsidering whether she would take her with her or not. \"No, I won't\ntake her,\" she decided. \"I'll go alone with my child.\"\n\n\"Yes, it's very wrong,\" said Anna, and taking her son by the shoulder\nshe looked at him, not severely, but with a timid glance that bewildered\nand delighted the boy, and she kissed him. \"Leave him to me,\" she said\nto the astonished governess, and not letting go of her son, she sat down\nat the table, where coffee was set ready for her.\n\n\"Mamma! I ... I ... didn't...\" he said, trying to make out from her\nexpression what was in store for him in regard to the peaches.\n\n\"Seryozha,\" she said, as soon as the governess had left the room, \"that\nwas wrong, but you'll never do it again, will you?... You love me?\"\n\nShe felt that the tears were coming into her eyes. \"Can I help loving\nhim?\" she said to herself, looking deeply into his scared and at the\nsame time delighted eyes. \"And can he ever join his father in punishing\nme? Is it possible he will not feel for me?\" Tears were already flowing\ndown her face, and to hide them she got up abruptly and almost ran out\non to the terrace.\n\nAfter the thunder showers of the last few days, cold, bright weather had\nset in. The air was cold in the bright sun that filtered through the\nfreshly washed leaves.\n\nShe shivered, both from the cold and from the inward horror which had\nclutched her with fresh force in the open air.\n\n\"Run along, run along to Mariette,\" she said to Seryozha, who had\nfollowed her out, and she began walking up and down on the straw matting\nof the terrace. \"Can it be that they won't forgive me, won't understand\nhow it all couldn't be helped?\" she said to herself.\n\nStanding still, and looking at the tops of the aspen trees waving in the\nwind, with their freshly washed, brightly shining leaves in the cold\nsunshine, she knew that they would not forgive her, that everyone and\neverything would be merciless to her now as was that sky, that green.\nAnd again she felt that everything was split in two in her soul. \"I\nmustn't, mustn't think,\" she said to herself. \"I must get ready. To go\nwhere? When? Whom to take with me? Yes, to Moscow by the evening train.\nAnnushka and Seryozha, and only the most necessary things. But first I\nmust write to them both.\" She went quickly indoors into her boudoir, sat\ndown at the table, and wrote to her husband:--\"After what has happened,\nI cannot remain any longer in your house. I am going away, and taking my\nson with me. I don't know the law, and so I don't know with which of the\nparents the son should remain; but I take him with me because I cannot\nlive without him. Be generous, leave him to me.\"\n\nUp to this point she wrote rapidly and naturally, but the appeal to his\ngenerosity, a quality she did not recognize in him, and the necessity of\nwinding up the letter with something touching, pulled her up. \"Of my\nfault and my remorse I cannot speak, because...\"\n\nShe stopped again, finding no connection in her ideas. \"No,\" she said to\nherself, \"there's no need of anything,\" and tearing up the letter, she\nwrote it again, leaving out the allusion to generosity, and sealed it\nup.\n\nAnother letter had to be written to Vronsky. \"I have told my husband,\"\nshe wrote, and she sat a long while unable to write more. It was so\ncoarse, so unfeminine. \"And what more am I to write to him?\" she said to\nherself. Again a flush of shame spread over her face; she recalled his\ncomposure, and a feeling of anger against him impelled her to tear the\nsheet with the phrase she had written into tiny bits. \"No need of\nanything,\" she said to herself, and closing her blotting-case she went\nupstairs, told the governess and the servants that she was going that\nday to Moscow, and at once set to work to pack up her things.\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\n\nAll the rooms of the summer villa were full of porters, gardeners, and\nfootmen going to and fro carrying out things. Cupboards and chests were\nopen; twice they had sent to the shop for cord; pieces of newspaper were\ntossing about on the floor. Two trunks, some bags and strapped-up rugs,\nhad been carried down into the hall. The carriage and two hired cabs\nwere waiting at the steps. Anna, forgetting her inward agitation in the\nwork of packing, was standing at a table in her boudoir, packing her\ntraveling bag, when Annushka called her attention to the rattle of some\ncarriage driving up. Anna looked out of the window and saw Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's courier on the steps, ringing at the front door bell.\n\n\"Run and find out what it is,\" she said, and with a calm sense of being\nprepared for anything, she sat down in a low chair, folding her hands on\nher knees. A footman brought in a thick packet directed in Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's hand.\n\n\"The courier has orders to wait for an answer,\" he said.\n\n\"Very well,\" she said, and as soon as he had left the room she tore open\nthe letter with trembling fingers. A roll of unfolded notes done up in a\nwrapper fell out of it. She disengaged the letter and began reading it\nat the end. \"Preparations shall be made for your arrival here ... I\nattach particular significance to compliance...\" she read. She ran on,\nthen back, read it all through, and once more read the letter all\nthrough again from the beginning. When she had finished, she felt that\nshe was cold all over, and that a fearful calamity, such as she had not\nexpected, had burst upon her.\n\nIn the morning she had regretted that she had spoken to her husband, and\nwished for nothing so much as that those words could be unspoken. And\nhere this letter regarded them as unspoken, and gave her what she had\nwanted. But now this letter seemed to her more awful than anything she\nhad been able to conceive.\n\n\"He's right!\" she said; \"of course, he's always right; he's a Christian,\nhe's generous! Yes, vile, base creature! And no one understands it\nexcept me, and no one ever will; and I can't explain it. They say he's\nso religious, so high-principled, so upright, so clever; but they don't\nsee what I've seen. They don't know how he has crushed my life for eight\nyears, crushed everything that was living in me--he has not once even\nthought that I'm a live woman who must have love. They don't know how at\nevery step he's humiliated me, and been just as pleased with himself.\nHaven't I striven, striven with all my strength, to find something to\ngive meaning to my life? Haven't I struggled to love him, to love my son\nwhen I could not love my husband? But the time came when I knew that I\ncouldn't cheat myself any longer, that I was alive, that I was not to\nblame, that God has made me so that I must love and live. And now what\ndoes he do? If he'd killed me, if he'd killed him, I could have borne\nanything, I could have forgiven anything; but, no, he.... How was it I\ndidn't guess what he would do? He's doing just what's characteristic of\nhis mean character. He'll keep himself in the right, while me, in my\nruin, he'll drive still lower to worse ruin yet....\"\n\nShe recalled the words from the letter. \"You can conjecture what awaits\nyou and your son....\" \"That's a threat to take away my child, and most\nlikely by their stupid law he can. But I know very well why he says it.\nHe doesn't believe even in my love for my child, or he despises it (just\nas he always used to ridicule it). He despises that feeling in me, but\nhe knows that I won't abandon my child, that I can't abandon my child,\nthat there could be no life for me without my child, even with him whom\nI love; but that if I abandoned my child and ran away from him, I should\nbe acting like the most infamous, basest of women. He knows that, and\nknows that I am incapable of doing that.\"\n\nShe recalled another sentence in the letter. \"Our life must go on as it\nhas done in the past....\" \"That life was miserable enough in the old\ndays; it has been awful of late. What will it be now? And he knows all\nthat; he knows that I can't repent that I breathe, that I love; he knows\nthat it can lead to nothing but lying and deceit; but he wants to go on\ntorturing me. I know him; I know that he's at home and is happy in\ndeceit, like a fish swimming in the water. No, I won't give him that\nhappiness. I'll break through the spiderweb of lies in which he wants to\ncatch me, come what may. Anything's better than lying and deceit.\n\n\"But how? My God! my God! Was ever a woman so miserable as I am?...\"\n\n\"No; I will break through it, I will break through it!\" she cried,\njumping up and keeping back her tears. And she went to the writing table\nto write him another letter. But at the bottom of her heart she felt\nthat she was not strong enough to break through anything, that she was\nnot strong enough to get out of her old position, however false and\ndishonorable it might be.\n\nShe sat down at the writing table, but instead of writing she clasped\nher hands on the table, and, laying her head on them, burst into tears,\nwith sobs and heaving breast like a child crying. She was weeping that\nher dream of her position being made clear and definite had been\nannihilated forever. She knew beforehand that everything would go on in\nthe old way, and far worse, indeed, than in the old way. She felt that\nthe position in the world that she enjoyed, and that had seemed to her\nof so little consequence in the morning, that this position was precious\nto her, that she would not have the strength to exchange it for the\nshameful position of a woman who has abandoned husband and child to join\nher lover; that however much she might struggle, she could not be\nstronger than herself. She would never know freedom in love, but would\nremain forever a guilty wife, with the menace of detection hanging over\nher at every instant; deceiving her husband for the sake of a shameful\nconnection with a man living apart and away from her, whose life she\ncould never share. She knew that this was how it would be, and at the\nsame time it was so awful that she could not even conceive what it would\nend in. And she cried without restraint, as children cry when they are\npunished.\n\nThe sound of the footman's steps forced her to rouse herself, and,\nhiding her face from him, she pretended to be writing.\n\n\"The courier asks if there's an answer,\" the footman announced.\n\n\"An answer? Yes,\" said Anna. \"Let him wait. I'll ring.\"\n\n\"What can I write?\" she thought. \"What can I decide upon alone? What do\nI know? What do I want? What is there I care for?\" Again she felt that\nher soul was beginning to be split in two. She was terrified again at\nthis feeling, and clutched at the first pretext for doing something\nwhich might divert her thoughts from herself. \"I ought to see Alexey\"\n(so she called Vronsky in her thoughts); \"no one but he can tell me what\nI ought to do. I'll go to Betsy's, perhaps I shall see him there,\" she\nsaid to herself, completely forgetting that when she had told him the\nday before that she was not going to Princess Tverskaya's, he had said\nthat in that case he should not go either. She went up to the table,\nwrote to her husband, \"I have received your letter.--A.\"; and, ringing\nthe bell, gave it to the footman.\n\n\"We are not going,\" she said to Annushka, as she came in.\n\n\"Not going at all?\"\n\n\"No; don't unpack till tomorrow, and let the carriage wait. I'm going to\nthe princess's.\"\n\n\"Which dress am I to get ready?\"\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\n\nThe croquet party to which the Princess Tverskaya had invited Anna was\nto consist of two ladies and their adorers. These two ladies were the\nchief representatives of a select new Petersburg circle, nicknamed, in\nimitation of some imitation, _les sept merveilles du monde_. These\nladies belonged to a circle which, though of the highest society, was\nutterly hostile to that in which Anna moved. Moreover, Stremov, one of\nthe most influential people in Petersburg, and the elderly admirer of\nLiza Merkalova, was Alexey Alexandrovitch's enemy in the political\nworld. From all these considerations Anna had not meant to go, and the\nhints in Princess Tverskaya's note referred to her refusal. But now Anna\nwas eager to go, in the hope of seeing Vronsky.\n\nAnna arrived at Princess Tverskaya's earlier than the other guests.\n\nAt the same moment as she entered, Vronsky's footman, with side-whiskers\ncombed out like a _Kammerjunker_, went in too. He stopped at the door,\nand, taking off his cap, let her pass. Anna recognized him, and only\nthen recalled that Vronsky had told her the day before that he would not\ncome. Most likely he was sending a note to say so.\n\nAs she took off her outer garment in the hall, she heard the footman,\npronouncing his \"r's\" even like a _Kammerjunker_, say, \"From the count\nfor the princess,\" and hand the note.\n\nShe longed to question him as to where his master was. She longed to\nturn back and send him a letter to come and see her, or to go herself to\nsee him. But neither the first nor the second nor the third course was\npossible. Already she heard bells ringing to announce her arrival ahead\nof her, and Princess Tverskaya's footman was standing at the open door\nwaiting for her to go forward into the inner rooms.\n\n\"The princess is in the garden; they will inform her immediately. Would\nyou be pleased to walk into the garden?\" announced another footman in\nanother room.\n\nThe position of uncertainty, of indecision, was still the same as at\nhome--worse, in fact, since it was impossible to take any step,\nimpossible to see Vronsky, and she had to remain here among outsiders,\nin company so uncongenial to her present mood. But she was wearing a\ndress that she knew suited her. She was not alone; all around was that\nluxurious setting of idleness that she was used to, and she felt less\nwretched than at home. She was not forced to think what she was to do.\nEverything would be done of itself. On meeting Betsy coming towards her\nin a white gown that struck her by its elegance, Anna smiled at her just\nas she always did. Princess Tverskaya was walking with Tushkevitch and a\nyoung lady, a relation, who, to the great joy of her parents in the\nprovinces, was spending the summer with the fashionable princess.\n\nThere was probably something unusual about Anna, for Betsy noticed it at\nonce.\n\n\"I slept badly,\" answered Anna, looking intently at the footman who came\nto meet them, and, as she supposed, brought Vronsky's note.\n\n\"How glad I am you've come!\" said Betsy. \"I'm tired, and was just\nlonging to have some tea before they come. You might go\"--she turned to\nTushkevitch--\"with Masha, and try the croquet ground over there where\nthey've been cutting it. We shall have time to talk a little over tea;\nwe'll have a cozy chat, eh?\" she said in English to Anna, with a smile,\npressing the hand with which she held a parasol.\n\n\"Yes, especially as I can't stay very long with you. I'm forced to go on\nto old Madame Vrede. I've been promising to go for a century,\" said\nAnna, to whom lying, alien as it was to her nature, had become not\nmerely simple and natural in society, but a positive source of\nsatisfaction. Why she said this, which she had not thought of a second\nbefore, she could not have explained. She had said it simply from the\nreflection that as Vronsky would not be here, she had better secure her\nown freedom, and try to see him somehow. But why she had spoken of old\nMadame Vrede, whom she had to go and see, as she had to see many other\npeople, she could not have explained; and yet, as it afterwards turned\nout, had she contrived the most cunning devices to meet Vronsky, she\ncould have thought of nothing better.\n\n\"No. I'm not going to let you go for anything,\" answered Betsy, looking\nintently into Anna's face. \"Really, if I were not fond of you, I should\nfeel offended. One would think you were afraid my society would\ncompromise you. Tea in the little dining room, please,\" she said, half\nclosing her eyes, as she always did when addressing the footman.\n\nTaking the note from him, she read it.\n\n\"Alexey's playing us false,\" she said in French; \"he writes that he\ncan't come,\" she added in a tone as simple and natural as though it\ncould never enter her head that Vronsky could mean anything more to Anna\nthan a game of croquet. Anna knew that Betsy knew everything, but,\nhearing how she spoke of Vronsky before her, she almost felt persuaded\nfor a minute that she knew nothing.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Anna indifferently, as though not greatly interested in the\nmatter, and she went on smiling: \"How can you or your friends compromise\nanyone?\"\n\nThis playing with words, this hiding of a secret, had a great\nfascination for Anna, as, indeed, it has for all women. And it was not\nthe necessity of concealment, not the aim with which the concealment was\ncontrived, but the process of concealment itself which attracted her.\n\n\"I can't be more Catholic than the Pope,\" she said. \"Stremov and Liza\nMerkalova, why, they're the cream of the cream of society. Besides,\nthey're received everywhere, and _I_\"--she laid special stress on the\nI--\"have never been strict and intolerant. It's simply that I haven't\nthe time.\"\n\n\"No; you don't care, perhaps, to meet Stremov? Let him and Alexey\nAlexandrovitch tilt at each other in the committee--that's no affair of\nours. But in the world, he's the most amiable man I know, and a devoted\ncroquet player. You shall see. And, in spite of his absurd position as\nLiza's lovesick swain at his age, you ought to see how he carries off\nthe absurd position. He's very nice. Sappho Shtoltz you don't know? Oh,\nthat's a new type, quite new.\"\n\nBetsy said all this, and, at the same time, from her good-humored,\nshrewd glance, Anna felt that she partly guessed her plight, and was\nhatching something for her benefit. They were in the little boudoir.\n\n\"I must write to Alexey though,\" and Betsy sat down to the table,\nscribbled a few lines, and put the note in an envelope.\n\n\"I'm telling him to come to dinner. I've one lady extra to dinner with\nme, and no man to take her in. Look what I've said, will that persuade\nhim? Excuse me, I must leave you for a minute. Would you seal it up,\nplease, and send it off?\" she said from the door; \"I have to give some\ndirections.\"\n\nWithout a moment's thought, Anna sat down to the table with Betsy's\nletter, and, without reading it, wrote below: \"It's essential for me to\nsee you. Come to the Vrede garden. I shall be there at six o'clock.\" She\nsealed it up, and, Betsy coming back, in her presence handed the note to\nbe taken.\n\nAt tea, which was brought them on a little tea-table in the cool little\ndrawing room, the cozy chat promised by Princess Tverskaya before the\narrival of her visitors really did come off between the two women. They\ncriticized the people they were expecting, and the conversation fell\nupon Liza Merkalova.\n\n\"She's very sweet, and I always liked her,\" said Anna.\n\n\"You ought to like her. She raves about you. Yesterday she came up to me\nafter the races and was in despair at not finding you. She says you're a\nreal heroine of romance, and that if she were a man she would do all\nsorts of mad things for your sake. Stremov says she does that as it is.\"\n\n\"But do tell me, please, I never could make it out,\" said Anna, after\nbeing silent for some time, speaking in a tone that showed she was not\nasking an idle question, but that what she was asking was of more\nimportance to her than it should have been; \"do tell me, please, what\nare her relations with Prince Kaluzhsky, Mishka, as he's called? I've\nmet them so little. What does it mean?\"\n\nBetsy smiled with her eyes, and looked intently at Anna.\n\n\"It's a new manner,\" she said. \"They've all adopted that manner. They've\nflung their caps over the windmills. But there are ways and ways of\nflinging them.\"\n\n\"Yes, but what are her relations precisely with Kaluzhsky?\"\n\nBetsy broke into unexpectedly mirthful and irrepressible laughter, a\nthing which rarely happened with her.\n\n\"You're encroaching on Princess Myakaya's special domain now. That's the\nquestion of an _enfant terrible_,\" and Betsy obviously tried to restrain\nherself, but could not, and went off into peals of that infectious\nlaughter that people laugh who do not laugh often. \"You'd better ask\nthem,\" she brought out, between tears of laughter.\n\n\"No; you laugh,\" said Anna, laughing too in spite of herself, \"but I\nnever could understand it. I can't understand the husband's role in it.\"\n\n\"The husband? Liza Merkalova's husband carries her shawl, and is always\nready to be of use. But anything more than that in reality, no one cares\nto inquire. You know in decent society one doesn't talk or think even of\ncertain details of the toilet. That's how it is with this.\"\n\n\"Will you be at Madame Rolandak's fete?\" asked Anna, to change the\nconversation.\n\n\"I don't think so,\" answered Betsy, and, without looking at her friend,\nshe began filling the little transparent cups with fragrant tea. Putting\na cup before Anna, she took out a cigarette, and, fitting it into a\nsilver holder, she lighted it.\n\n\"It's like this, you see: I'm in a fortunate position,\" she began, quite\nserious now, as she took up her cup. \"I understand you, and I understand\nLiza. Liza now is one of those naive natures that, like children, don't\nknow what's good and what's bad. Anyway, she didn't comprehend it when\nshe was very young. And now she's aware that the lack of comprehension\nsuits her. Now, perhaps, she doesn't know on purpose,\" said Betsy, with\na subtle smile. \"But, anyway, it suits her. The very same thing, don't\nyou see, may be looked at tragically, and turned into a misery, or it\nmay be looked at simply and even humorously. Possibly you are inclined\nto look at things too tragically.\"\n\n\"How I should like to know other people just as I know myself!\" said\nAnna, seriously and dreamily. \"Am I worse than other people, or better?\nI think I'm worse.\"\n\n\"_Enfant terrible, enfant terrible!_\" repeated Betsy. \"But here they\nare.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\n\nThey heard the sound of steps and a man's voice, then a woman's voice\nand laughter, and immediately thereafter there walked in the expected\nguests: Sappho Shtoltz, and a young man beaming with excess of health,\nthe so-called Vaska. It was evident that ample supplies of beefsteak,\ntruffles, and Burgundy never failed to reach him at the fitting hour.\nVaska bowed to the two ladies, and glanced at them, but only for one\nsecond. He walked after Sappho into the drawing-room, and followed her\nabout as though he were chained to her, keeping his sparkling eyes fixed\non her as though he wanted to eat her. Sappho Shtoltz was a blonde\nbeauty with black eyes. She walked with smart little steps in\nhigh-heeled shoes, and shook hands with the ladies vigorously like a\nman.\n\nAnna had never met this new star of fashion, and was struck by her\nbeauty, the exaggerated extreme to which her dress was carried, and the\nboldness of her manners. On her head there was such a superstructure of\nsoft, golden hair--her own and false mixed--that her head was equal in\nsize to the elegantly rounded bust, of which so much was exposed in\nfront. The impulsive abruptness of her movements was such that at every\nstep the lines of her knees and the upper part of her legs were\ndistinctly marked under her dress, and the question involuntarily rose\nto the mind where in the undulating, piled-up mountain of material at\nthe back the real body of the woman, so small and slender, so naked in\nfront, and so hidden behind and below, really came to an end.\n\nBetsy made haste to introduce her to Anna.\n\n\"Only fancy, we all but ran over two soldiers,\" she began telling them\nat once, using her eyes, smiling and twitching away her tail, which she\nflung back at one stroke all on one side. \"I drove here with Vaska....\nAh, to be sure, you don't know each other.\" And mentioning his surname\nshe introduced the young man, and reddening a little, broke into a\nringing laugh at her mistake--that is, at her having called him Vaska to\na stranger. Vaska bowed once more to Anna, but he said nothing to her.\nHe addressed Sappho: \"You've lost your bet. We got here first. Pay up,\"\nsaid he, smiling.\n\nSappho laughed still more festively.\n\n\"Not just now,\" said she.\n\n\"Oh, all right, I'll have it later.\"\n\n\"Very well, very well. Oh, yes.\" She turned suddenly to Princess Betsy:\n\"I am a nice person ... I positively forgot it ... I've brought you a\nvisitor. And here he comes.\" The unexpected young visitor, whom Sappho\nhad invited, and whom she had forgotten, was, however, a personage of\nsuch consequence that, in spite of his youth, both the ladies rose on\nhis entrance.\n\nHe was a new admirer of Sappho's. He now dogged her footsteps, like\nVaska.\n\nSoon after Prince Kaluzhsky arrived, and Liza Merkalova with Stremov.\nLiza Merkalova was a thin brunette, with an Oriental, languid type of\nface, and--as everyone used to say--exquisite enigmatic eyes. The tone\nof her dark dress (Anna immediately observed and appreciated the fact)\nwas in perfect harmony with her style of beauty. Liza was as soft and\nenervated as Sappho was smart and abrupt.\n\nBut to Anna's taste Liza was far more attractive. Betsy had said to Anna\nthat she had adopted the pose of an innocent child, but when Anna saw\nher, she felt that this was not the truth. She really was both innocent\nand corrupt, but a sweet and passive woman. It is true that her tone was\nthe same as Sappho's; that like Sappho, she had two men, one young and\none old, tacked onto her, and devouring her with their eyes. But there\nwas something in her higher than what surrounded her. There was in her\nthe glow of the real diamond among glass imitations. This glow shone out\nin her exquisite, truly enigmatic eyes. The weary, and at the same time\npassionate, glance of those eyes, encircled by dark rings, impressed one\nby its perfect sincerity. Everyone looking into those eyes fancied he\nknew her wholly, and knowing her, could not but love her. At the sight\nof Anna, her whole face lighted up at once with a smile of delight.\n\n\"Ah, how glad I am to see you!\" she said, going up to her. \"Yesterday at\nthe races all I wanted was to get to you, but you'd gone away. I did so\nwant to see you, yesterday especially. Wasn't it awful?\" she said,\nlooking at Anna with eyes that seemed to lay bare all her soul.\n\n\"Yes; I had no idea it would be so thrilling,\" said Anna, blushing.\n\nThe company got up at this moment to go into the garden.\n\n\"I'm not going,\" said Liza, smiling and settling herself close to Anna.\n\"You won't go either, will you? Who wants to play croquet?\"\n\n\"Oh, I like it,\" said Anna.\n\n\"There, how do you manage never to be bored by things? It's delightful\nto look at you. You're alive, but I'm bored.\"\n\n\"How can you be bored? Why, you live in the liveliest set in\nPetersburg,\" said Anna.\n\n\"Possibly the people who are not of our set are even more bored; but\nwe--I certainly--are not happy, but awfully, awfully bored.\"\n\nSappho smoking a cigarette went off into the garden with the two young\nmen. Betsy and Stremov remained at the tea-table.\n\n\"What, bored!\" said Betsy. \"Sappho says they did enjoy themselves\ntremendously at your house last night.\"\n\n\"Ah, how dreary it all was!\" said Liza Merkalova. \"We all drove back to\nmy place after the races. And always the same people, always the same.\nAlways the same thing. We lounged about on sofas all the evening. What\nis there to enjoy in that? No; do tell me how you manage never to be\nbored?\" she said, addressing Anna again. \"One has but to look at you and\none sees, here's a woman who may be happy or unhappy, but isn't bored.\nTell me how you do it?\"\n\n\"I do nothing,\" answered Anna, blushing at these searching questions.\n\n\"That's the best way,\" Stremov put in. Stremov was a man of fifty,\npartly gray, but still vigorous-looking, very ugly, but with a\ncharacteristic and intelligent face. Liza Merkalova was his wife's\nniece, and he spent all his leisure hours with her. On meeting Anna\nKarenina, as he was Alexey Alexandrovitch's enemy in the government, he\ntried, like a shrewd man and a man of the world, to be particularly\ncordial with her, the wife of his enemy.\n\n\"'Nothing,'\" he put in with a subtle smile, \"that's the very best way. I\ntold you long ago,\" he said, turning to Liza Merkalova, \"that if you\ndon't want to be bored, you mustn't think you're going to be bored. It's\njust as you mustn't be afraid of not being able to fall asleep, if\nyou're afraid of sleeplessness. That's just what Anna Arkadyevna has\njust said.\"\n\n\"I should be very glad if I had said it, for it's not only clever but\ntrue,\" said Anna, smiling.\n\n\"No, do tell me why it is one can't go to sleep, and one can't help\nbeing bored?\"\n\n\"To sleep well one ought to work, and to enjoy oneself one ought to work\ntoo.\"\n\n\"What am I to work for when my work is no use to anybody? And I can't\nand won't knowingly make a pretense about it.\"\n\n\"You're incorrigible,\" said Stremov, not looking at her, and he spoke\nagain to Anna. As he rarely met Anna, he could say nothing but\ncommonplaces to her, but he said those commonplaces as to when she was\nreturning to Petersburg, and how fond Countess Lidia Ivanovna was of\nher, with an expression which suggested that he longed with his whole\nsoul to please her and show his regard for her and even more than that.\n\nTushkevitch came in, announcing that the party were awaiting the other\nplayers to begin croquet.\n\n\"No, don't go away, please don't,\" pleaded Liza Merkalova, hearing that\nAnna was going. Stremov joined in her entreaties.\n\n\"It's too violent a transition,\" he said, \"to go from such company to\nold Madame Vrede. And besides, you will only give her a chance for\ntalking scandal, while here you arouse none but such different feelings\nof the highest and most opposite kind,\" he said to her.\n\nAnna pondered for an instant in uncertainty. This shrewd man's\nflattering words, the naive, childlike affection shown her by Liza\nMerkalova, and all the social atmosphere she was used to,--it was all so\neasy, and what was in store for her was so difficult, that she was for a\nminute in uncertainty whether to remain, whether to put off a little\nlonger the painful moment of explanation. But remembering what was in\nstore for her alone at home, if she did not come to some decision,\nremembering that gesture--terrible even in memory--when she had clutched\nher hair in both hands--she said good-bye and went away.\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\n\nIn spite of Vronsky's apparently frivolous life in society, he was a man\nwho hated irregularity. In early youth in the Corps of Pages, he had\nexperienced the humiliation of a refusal, when he had tried, being in\ndifficulties, to borrow money, and since then he had never once put\nhimself in the same position again.\n\nIn order to keep his affairs in some sort of order, he used about five\ntimes a year (more or less frequently, according to circumstances) to\nshut himself up alone and put all his affairs into definite shape. This\nhe used to call his day of reckoning or _faire la lessive_.\n\nOn waking up the day after the races, Vronsky put on a white linen coat,\nand without shaving or taking his bath, he distributed about the table\nmoneys, bills, and letters, and set to work. Petritsky, who knew he was\nill-tempered on such occasions, on waking up and seeing his comrade at\nthe writing-table, quietly dressed and went out without getting in his\nway.\n\nEvery man who knows to the minutest details all the complexity of the\nconditions surrounding him, cannot help imagining that the complexity of\nthese conditions, and the difficulty of making them clear, is something\nexceptional and personal, peculiar to himself, and never supposes that\nothers are surrounded by just as complicated an array of personal\naffairs as he is. So indeed it seemed to Vronsky. And not without inward\npride, and not without reason, he thought that any other man would long\nago have been in difficulties, would have been forced to some\ndishonorable course, if he had found himself in such a difficult\nposition. But Vronsky felt that now especially it was essential for him\nto clear up and define his position if he were to avoid getting into\ndifficulties.\n\nWhat Vronsky attacked first as being the easiest was his pecuniary\nposition. Writing out on note paper in his minute hand all that he owed,\nhe added up the amount and found that his debts amounted to seventeen\nthousand and some odd hundreds, which he left out for the sake of\nclearness. Reckoning up his money and his bank book, he found that he\nhad left one thousand eight hundred roubles, and nothing coming in\nbefore the New Year. Reckoning over again his list of debts, Vronsky\ncopied it, dividing it into three classes. In the first class he put the\ndebts which he would have to pay at once, or for which he must in any\ncase have the money ready so that on demand for payment there could not\nbe a moment's delay in paying. Such debts amounted to about four\nthousand: one thousand five hundred for a horse, and two thousand five\nhundred as surety for a young comrade, Venovsky, who had lost that sum\nto a cardsharper in Vronsky's presence. Vronsky had wanted to pay the\nmoney at the time (he had that amount then), but Venovsky and Yashvin\nhad insisted that they would pay and not Vronsky, who had not played.\nThat was so far well, but Vronsky knew that in this dirty business,\nthough his only share in it was undertaking by word of mouth to be\nsurety for Venovsky, it was absolutely necessary for him to have the two\nthousand five hundred roubles so as to be able to fling it at the\nswindler, and have no more words with him. And so for this first and\nmost important division he must have four thousand roubles. The second\nclass--eight thousand roubles--consisted of less important debts. These\nwere principally accounts owing in connection with his race horses, to\nthe purveyor of oats and hay, the English saddler, and so on. He would\nhave to pay some two thousand roubles on these debts too, in order to be\nquite free from anxiety. The last class of debts--to shops, to hotels,\nto his tailor--were such as need not be considered. So that he needed at\nleast six thousand roubles for current expenses, and he only had one\nthousand eight hundred. For a man with one hundred thousand roubles of\nrevenue, which was what everyone fixed as Vronsky's income, such debts,\none would suppose, could hardly be embarrassing; but the fact was that\nhe was far from having one hundred thousand. His father's immense\nproperty, which alone yielded a yearly income of two hundred thousand,\nwas left undivided between the brothers. At the time when the elder\nbrother, with a mass of debts, married Princess Varya Tchirkova, the\ndaughter of a Decembrist without any fortune whatever, Alexey had given\nup to his elder brother almost the whole income from his father's\nestate, reserving for himself only twenty-five thousand a year from it.\nAlexey had said at the time to his brother that that sum would be\nsufficient for him until he married, which he probably never would do.\nAnd his brother, who was in command of one of the most expensive\nregiments, and was only just married, could not decline the gift. His\nmother, who had her own separate property, had allowed Alexey every year\ntwenty thousand in addition to the twenty-five thousand he had reserved,\nand Alexey had spent it all. Of late his mother, incensed with him on\naccount of his love affair and his leaving Moscow, had given up sending\nhim the money. And in consequence of this, Vronsky, who had been in the\nhabit of living on the scale of forty-five thousand a year, having only\nreceived twenty thousand that year, found himself now in difficulties.\nTo get out of these difficulties, he could not apply to his mother for\nmoney. Her last letter, which he had received the day before, had\nparticularly exasperated him by the hints in it that she was quite ready\nto help him to succeed in the world and in the army, but not to lead a\nlife which was a scandal to all good society. His mother's attempt to\nbuy him stung him to the quick and made him feel colder than ever to\nher. But he could not draw back from the generous word when it was once\nuttered, even though he felt now, vaguely foreseeing certain\neventualities in his intrigue with Madame Karenina, that this generous\nword had been spoken thoughtlessly, and that even though he were not\nmarried he might need all the hundred thousand of income. But it was\nimpossible to draw back. He had only to recall his brother's wife, to\nremember how that sweet, delightful Varya sought, at every convenient\nopportunity, to remind him that she remembered his generosity and\nappreciated it, to grasp the impossibility of taking back his gift. It\nwas as impossible as beating a woman, stealing, or lying. One thing only\ncould and ought to be done, and Vronsky determined upon it without an\ninstant's hesitation: to borrow money from a money-lender, ten thousand\nroubles, a proceeding which presented no difficulty, to cut down his\nexpenses generally, and to sell his race horses. Resolving on this, he\npromptly wrote a note to Rolandak, who had more than once sent to him\nwith offers to buy horses from him. Then he sent for the Englishman and\nthe money-lender, and divided what money he had according to the\naccounts he intended to pay. Having finished this business, he wrote a\ncold and cutting answer to his mother. Then he took out of his notebook\nthree notes of Anna's, read them again, burned them, and remembering\ntheir conversation on the previous day, he sank into meditation.\n\n\n\nChapter 20\n\n\nVronsky's life was particularly happy in that he had a code of\nprinciples, which defined with unfailing certitude what he ought and\nwhat he ought not to do. This code of principles covered only a very\nsmall circle of contingencies, but then the principles were never\ndoubtful, and Vronsky, as he never went outside that circle, had never\nhad a moment's hesitation about doing what he ought to do. These\nprinciples laid down as invariable rules: that one must pay a\ncardsharper, but need not pay a tailor; that one must never tell a lie\nto a man, but one may to a woman; that one must never cheat anyone, but\none may a husband; that one must never pardon an insult, but one may\ngive one and so on. These principles were possibly not reasonable and\nnot good, but they were of unfailing certainty, and so long as he\nadhered to them, Vronsky felt that his heart was at peace and he could\nhold his head up. Only quite lately in regard to his relations with\nAnna, Vronsky had begun to feel that his code of principles did not\nfully cover all possible contingencies, and to foresee in the future\ndifficulties and perplexities for which he could find no guiding clue.\n\nHis present relation to Anna and to her husband was to his mind clear\nand simple. It was clearly and precisely defined in the code of\nprinciples by which he was guided.\n\nShe was an honorable woman who had bestowed her love upon him, and he\nloved her, and therefore she was in his eyes a woman who had a right to\nthe same, or even more, respect than a lawful wife. He would have had\nhis hand chopped off before he would have allowed himself by a word, by\na hint, to humiliate her, or even to fall short of the fullest respect a\nwoman could look for.\n\nHis attitude to society, too, was clear. Everyone might know, might\nsuspect it, but no one might dare to speak of it. If any did so, he was\nready to force all who might speak to be silent and to respect the\nnon-existent honor of the woman he loved.\n\nHis attitude to the husband was the clearest of all. From the moment\nthat Anna loved Vronsky, he had regarded his own right over her as the\none thing unassailable. Her husband was simply a superfluous and\ntiresome person. No doubt he was in a pitiable position, but how could\nthat be helped? The one thing the husband had a right to was to demand\nsatisfaction with a weapon in his hand, and Vronsky was prepared for\nthis at any minute.\n\nBut of late new inner relations had arisen between him and her, which\nfrightened Vronsky by their indefiniteness. Only the day before she had\ntold him that she was with child. And he felt that this fact and what\nshe expected of him called for something not fully defined in that code\nof principles by which he had hitherto steered his course in life. And\nhe had been indeed caught unawares, and at the first moment when she\nspoke to him of her position, his heart had prompted him to beg her to\nleave her husband. He had said that, but now thinking things over he saw\nclearly that it would be better to manage to avoid that; and at the same\ntime, as he told himself so, he was afraid whether it was not wrong.\n\n\"If I told her to leave her husband, that must mean uniting her life\nwith mine; am I prepared for that? How can I take her away now, when I\nhave no money? Supposing I could arrange.... But how can I take her away\nwhile I'm in the service? If I say that--I ought to be prepared to do\nit, that is, I ought to have the money and to retire from the army.\"\n\nAnd he grew thoughtful. The question whether to retire from the service\nor not brought him to the other and perhaps the chief though hidden\ninterest of his life, of which none knew but he.\n\nAmbition was the old dream of his youth and childhood, a dream which he\ndid not confess even to himself, though it was so strong that now this\npassion was even doing battle with his love. His first steps in the\nworld and in the service had been successful, but two years before he\nhad made a great mistake. Anxious to show his independence and to\nadvance, he had refused a post that had been offered him, hoping that\nthis refusal would heighten his value; but it turned out that he had\nbeen too bold, and he was passed over. And having, whether he liked or\nnot, taken up for himself the position of an independent man, he carried\nit off with great tact and good sense, behaving as though he bore no\ngrudge against anyone, did not regard himself as injured in any way, and\ncared for nothing but to be left alone since he was enjoying himself. In\nreality he had ceased to enjoy himself as long ago as the year before,\nwhen he went away to Moscow. He felt that this independent attitude of a\nman who might have done anything, but cared to do nothing, was already\nbeginning to pall, that many people were beginning to fancy that he was\nnot really capable of anything but being a straightforward, good-natured\nfellow. His connection with Madame Karenina, by creating so much\nsensation and attracting general attention, had given him a fresh\ndistinction which soothed his gnawing worm of ambition for a while, but\na week before that worm had been roused up again with fresh force. The\nfriend of his childhood, a man of the same set, of the same coterie, his\ncomrade in the Corps of Pages, Serpuhovskoy, who had left school with\nhim and had been his rival in class, in gymnastics, in their scrapes and\ntheir dreams of glory, had come back a few days before from Central\nAsia, where he had gained two steps up in rank, and an order rarely\nbestowed upon generals so young.\n\nAs soon as he arrived in Petersburg, people began to talk about him as a\nnewly risen star of the first magnitude. A schoolfellow of Vronsky's and\nof the same age, he was a general and was expecting a command, which\nmight have influence on the course of political events; while Vronsky,\nindependent and brilliant and beloved by a charming woman though he was,\nwas simply a cavalry captain who was readily allowed to be as\nindependent as ever he liked. \"Of course I don't envy Serpuhovskoy and\nnever could envy him; but his advancement shows me that one has only to\nwatch one's opportunity, and the career of a man like me may be very\nrapidly made. Three years ago he was in just the same position as I am.\nIf I retire, I burn my ships. If I remain in the army, I lose nothing.\nShe said herself she did not wish to change her position. And with her\nlove I cannot feel envious of Serpuhovskoy.\" And slowly twirling his\nmustaches, he got up from the table and walked about the room. His eyes\nshone particularly brightly, and he felt in that confident, calm, and\nhappy frame of mind which always came after he had thoroughly faced his\nposition. Everything was straight and clear, just as after former days\nof reckoning. He shaved, took a cold bath, dressed and went out.\n\n\n\nChapter 21\n\n\n\"We've come to fetch you. Your _lessive_ lasted a good time today,\" said\nPetritsky. \"Well, is it over?\"\n\n\"It is over,\" answered Vronsky, smiling with his eyes only, and twirling\nthe tips of his mustaches as circumspectly as though after the perfect\norder into which his affairs had been brought any over-bold or rapid\nmovement might disturb it.\n\n\"You're always just as if you'd come out of a bath after it,\" said\nPetritsky. \"I've come from Gritsky's\" (that was what they called the\ncolonel); \"they're expecting you.\"\n\nVronsky, without answering, looked at his comrade, thinking of something\nelse.\n\n\"Yes; is that music at his place?\" he said, listening to the familiar\nsounds of polkas and waltzes floating across to him. \"What's the fete?\"\n\n\"Serpuhovskoy's come.\"\n\n\"Aha!\" said Vronsky, \"why, I didn't know.\"\n\nThe smile in his eyes gleamed more brightly than ever.\n\nHaving once made up his mind that he was happy in his love, that he\nsacrificed his ambition to it--having anyway taken up this position,\nVronsky was incapable of feeling either envious of Serpuhovskoy or hurt\nwith him for not coming first to him when he came to the regiment.\nSerpuhovskoy was a good friend, and he was delighted he had come.\n\n\"Ah, I'm very glad!\"\n\nThe colonel, Demin, had taken a large country house. The whole party\nwere in the wide lower balcony. In the courtyard the first objects that\nmet Vronsky's eyes were a band of singers in white linen coats, standing\nnear a barrel of vodka, and the robust, good-humored figure of the\ncolonel surrounded by officers. He had gone out as far as the first step\nof the balcony and was loudly shouting across the band that played\nOffenbach's quadrille, waving his arms and giving some orders to a few\nsoldiers standing on one side. A group of soldiers, a quartermaster, and\nseveral subalterns came up to the balcony with Vronsky. The colonel\nreturned to the table, went out again onto the steps with a tumbler in\nhis hand, and proposed the toast, \"To the health of our former comrade,\nthe gallant general, Prince Serpuhovskoy. Hurrah!\"\n\nThe colonel was followed by Serpuhovskoy, who came out onto the steps\nsmiling, with a glass in his hand.\n\n\"You always get younger, Bondarenko,\" he said to the rosy-checked,\nsmart-looking quartermaster standing just before him, still youngish\nlooking though doing his second term of service.\n\nIt was three years since Vronsky had seen Serpuhovskoy. He looked more\nrobust, had let his whiskers grow, but was still the same graceful\ncreature, whose face and figure were even more striking from their\nsoftness and nobility than their beauty. The only change Vronsky\ndetected in him was that subdued, continual radiance of beaming content\nwhich settles on the faces of men who are successful and are sure of the\nrecognition of their success by everyone. Vronsky knew that radiant air,\nand immediately observed it in Serpuhovskoy.\n\nAs Serpuhovskoy came down the steps he saw Vronsky. A smile of pleasure\nlighted up his face. He tossed his head upwards and waved the glass in\nhis hand, greeting Vronsky, and showing him by the gesture that he could\nnot come to him before the quartermaster, who stood craning forward his\nlips ready to be kissed.\n\n\"Here he is!\" shouted the colonel. \"Yashvin told me you were in one of\nyour gloomy tempers.\"\n\nSerpuhovskoy kissed the moist, fresh lips of the gallant-looking\nquartermaster, and wiping his mouth with his handkerchief, went up to\nVronsky.\n\n\"How glad I am!\" he said, squeezing his hand and drawing him on one\nside.\n\n\"You look after him,\" the colonel shouted to Yashvin, pointing to\nVronsky; and he went down below to the soldiers.\n\n\"Why weren't you at the races yesterday? I expected to see you there,\"\nsaid Vronsky, scrutinizing Serpuhovskoy.\n\n\"I did go, but late. I beg your pardon,\" he added, and he turned to the\nadjutant: \"Please have this divided from me, each man as much as it runs\nto.\" And he hurriedly took notes for three hundred roubles from his\npocketbook, blushing a little.\n\n\"Vronsky! Have anything to eat or drink?\" asked Yashvin. \"Hi, something\nfor the count to eat! Ah, here it is: have a glass!\"\n\nThe fete at the colonel's lasted a long while. There was a great deal of\ndrinking. They tossed Serpuhovskoy in the air and caught him again\nseveral times. Then they did the same to the colonel. Then, to the\naccompaniment of the band, the colonel himself danced with Petritsky.\nThen the colonel, who began to show signs of feebleness, sat down on a\nbench in the courtyard and began demonstrating to Yashvin the\nsuperiority of Russia over Poland, especially in cavalry attack, and\nthere was a lull in the revelry for a moment. Serpuhovskoy went into the\nhouse to the bathroom to wash his hands and found Vronsky there; Vronsky\nwas drenching his head with water. He had taken off his coat and put his\nsunburnt, hairy neck under the tap, and was rubbing it and his head with\nhis hands. When he had finished, Vronsky sat down by Serpuhovskoy. They\nboth sat down in the bathroom on a lounge, and a conversation began\nwhich was very interesting to both of them.\n\n\"I've always been hearing about you through my wife,\" said Serpuhovskoy.\n\"I'm glad you've been seeing her pretty often.\"\n\n\"She's friendly with Varya, and they're the only women in Petersburg I\ncare about seeing,\" answered Vronsky, smiling. He smiled because he\nforesaw the topic the conversation would turn on, and he was glad of it.\n\n\"The only ones?\" Serpuhovskoy queried, smiling.\n\n\"Yes; and I heard news of you, but not only through your wife,\" said\nVronsky, checking his hint by a stern expression of face. \"I was greatly\ndelighted to hear of your success, but not a bit surprised. I expected\neven more.\"\n\nSerpuhovskoy smiled. Such an opinion of him was obviously agreeable to\nhim, and he did not think it necessary to conceal it.\n\n\"Well, I on the contrary expected less--I'll own frankly. But I'm glad,\nvery glad. I'm ambitious; that's my weakness, and I confess to it.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you wouldn't confess to it if you hadn't been successful,\" said\nVronsky.\n\n\"I don't suppose so,\" said Serpuhovskoy, smiling again. \"I won't say\nlife wouldn't be worth living without it, but it would be dull. Of\ncourse I may be mistaken, but I fancy I have a certain capacity for the\nline I've chosen, and that power of any sort in my hands, if it is to\nbe, will be better than in the hands of a good many people I know,\" said\nSerpuhovskoy, with beaming consciousness of success; \"and so the nearer\nI get to it, the better pleased I am.\"\n\n\"Perhaps that is true for you, but not for everyone. I used to think so\ntoo, but here I live and think life worth living not only for that.\"\n\n\"There it's out! here it comes!\" said Serpuhovskoy, laughing. \"Ever\nsince I heard about you, about your refusal, I began.... Of course, I\napproved of what you did. But there are ways of doing everything. And I\nthink your action was good in itself, but you didn't do it quite in the\nway you ought to have done.\"\n\n\"What's done can't be undone, and you know I never go back on what I've\ndone. And besides, I'm very well off.\"\n\n\"Very well off--for the time. But you're not satisfied with that. I\nwouldn't say this to your brother. He's a nice child, like our host\nhere. There he goes!\" he added, listening to the roar of \"hurrah!\"--\"and\nhe's happy, but that does not satisfy you.\"\n\n\"I didn't say it did satisfy me.\"\n\n\"Yes, but that's not the only thing. Such men as you are wanted.\"\n\n\"By whom?\"\n\n\"By whom? By society, by Russia. Russia needs men; she needs a party, or\nelse everything goes and will go to the dogs.\"\n\n\"How do you mean? Bertenev's party against the Russian communists?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Serpuhovskoy, frowning with vexation at being suspected of\nsuch an absurdity. \"_Tout ca est une blague_. That's always been and\nalways will be. There are no communists. But intriguing people have to\ninvent a noxious, dangerous party. It's an old trick. No, what's wanted\nis a powerful party of independent men like you and me.\"\n\n\"But why so?\" Vronsky mentioned a few men who were in power. \"Why aren't\nthey independent men?\"\n\n\"Simply because they have not, or have not had from birth, an\nindependent fortune; they've not had a name, they've not been close to\nthe sun and center as we have. They can be bought either by money or by\nfavor. And they have to find a support for themselves in inventing a\npolicy. And they bring forward some notion, some policy that they don't\nbelieve in, that does harm; and the whole policy is really only a means\nto a government house and so much income. _Cela n'est pas plus fin que\nca_, when you get a peep at their cards. I may be inferior to them,\nstupider perhaps, though I don't see why I should be inferior to them.\nBut you and I have one important advantage over them for certain, in\nbeing more difficult to buy. And such men are more needed than ever.\"\n\nVronsky listened attentively, but he was not so much interested by the\nmeaning of the words as by the attitude of Serpuhovskoy who was already\ncontemplating a struggle with the existing powers, and already had his\nlikes and dislikes in that higher world, while his own interest in the\ngoverning world did not go beyond the interests of his regiment. Vronsky\nfelt, too, how powerful Serpuhovskoy might become through his\nunmistakable faculty for thinking things out and for taking things in,\nthrough his intelligence and gift of words, so rarely met with in the\nworld in which he moved. And, ashamed as he was of the feeling, he felt\nenvious.\n\n\"Still I haven't the one thing of most importance for that,\" he\nanswered; \"I haven't the desire for power. I had it once, but it's\ngone.\"\n\n\"Excuse me, that's not true,\" said Serpuhovskoy, smiling.\n\n\"Yes, it is true, it is true ... now!\" Vronsky added, to be truthful.\n\n\"Yes, it's true now, that's another thing; but that _now_ won't last\nforever.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" answered Vronsky.\n\n\"You say _perhaps_,\" Serpuhovskoy went on, as though guessing his\nthoughts, \"but I say _for certain_. And that's what I wanted to see you\nfor. Your action was just what it should have been. I see that, but you\nought not to keep it up. I only ask you to give me carte blanche. I'm\nnot going to offer you my protection ... though, indeed, why shouldn't I\nprotect you?--you've protected me often enough! I should hope our\nfriendship rises above all that sort of thing. Yes,\" he said, smiling to\nhim as tenderly as a woman, \"give me _carte blanche_, retire from the\nregiment, and I'll draw you upwards imperceptibly.\"\n\n\"But you must understand that I want nothing,\" said Vronsky, \"except\nthat all should be as it is.\"\n\nSerpuhovskoy got up and stood facing him.\n\n\"You say that all should be as it is. I understand what that means. But\nlisten: we're the same age, you've known a greater number of women\nperhaps than I have.\" Serpohovskoy's smile and gestures told Vronsky\nthat he mustn't be afraid, that he would be tender and careful in\ntouching the sore place. \"But I'm married, and believe me, in getting to\nknow thoroughly one's wife, if one loves her, as someone has said, one\ngets to know all women better than if one knew thousands of them.\"\n\n\"We're coming directly!\" Vronsky shouted to an officer, who looked into\nthe room and called them to the colonel.\n\nVronsky was longing now to hear to the end and know what Serpuhovskey\nwould say to him.\n\n\"And here's my opinion for you. Women are the chief stumbling block in a\nman's career. It's hard to love a woman and do anything. There's only\none way of having love conveniently without its being a\nhindrance--that's marriage. How, how am I to tell you what I mean?\" said\nSerpuhovskoy, who liked similes. \"Wait a minute, wait a minute! Yes,\njust as you can only carry a _fardeau_ and do something with your hands,\nwhen the fardeau is tied on your back, and that's marriage. And that's\nwhat I felt when I was married. My hands were suddenly set free. But to\ndrag that _fardeau_ about with you without marriage, your hands will\nalways be so full that you can do nothing. Look at Mazankov, at Krupov.\nThey've ruined their careers for the sake of women.\"\n\n\"What women!\" said Vronsky, recalling the Frenchwoman and the actress\nwith whom the two men he had mentioned were connected.\n\n\"The firmer the woman's footing in society, the worse it is. That's much\nthe same as--not merely carrying the _fardeau_ in your arms--but tearing\nit away from someone else.\"\n\n\"You have never loved,\" Vronsky said softly, looking straight before him\nand thinking of Anna.\n\n\"Perhaps. But you remember what I've said to you. And another thing,\nwomen are all more materialistic than men. We make something immense out\nof love, but they are always _terre-a-terre_.\"\n\n\"Directly, directly!\" he cried to a footman who came in. But the footman\nhad not come to call them again, as he supposed. The footman brought\nVronsky a note.\n\n\"A man brought it from Princess Tverskaya.\"\n\nVronsky opened the letter, and flushed crimson.\n\n\"My head's begun to ache; I'm going home,\" he said to Serpuhovskoy.\n\n\"Oh, good-bye then. You give me _carte blanche!_\"\n\n\"We'll talk about it later on; I'll look you up in Petersburg.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 22\n\n\nIt was six o'clock already, and so, in order to be there quickly, and at\nthe same time not to drive with his own horses, known to everyone,\nVronsky got into Yashvin's hired fly, and told the driver to drive as\nquickly as possible. It was a roomy, old-fashioned fly, with seats for\nfour. He sat in one corner, stretched his legs out on the front seat,\nand sank into meditation.\n\nA vague sense of the order into which his affairs had been brought, a\nvague recollection of the friendliness and flattery of Serpuhovskoy, who\nhad considered him a man that was needed, and most of all, the\nanticipation of the interview before him--all blended into a general,\njoyous sense of life. This feeling was so strong that he could not help\nsmiling. He dropped his legs, crossed one leg over the other knee, and\ntaking it in his hand, felt the springy muscle of the calf, where it had\nbeen grazed the day before by his fall, and leaning back he drew several\ndeep breaths.\n\n\"I'm happy, very happy!\" he said to himself. He had often before had\nthis sense of physical joy in his own body, but he had never felt so\nfond of himself, of his own body, as at that moment. He enjoyed the\nslight ache in his strong leg, he enjoyed the muscular sensation of\nmovement in his chest as he breathed. The bright, cold August day, which\nhad made Anna feel so hopeless, seemed to him keenly stimulating, and\nrefreshed his face and neck that still tingled from the cold water. The\nscent of brilliantine on his whiskers struck him as particularly\npleasant in the fresh air. Everything he saw from the carriage window,\neverything in that cold pure air, in the pale light of the sunset, was\nas fresh, and gay, and strong as he was himself: the roofs of the houses\nshining in the rays of the setting sun, the sharp outlines of fences and\nangles of buildings, the figures of passers-by, the carriages that met\nhim now and then, the motionless green of the trees and grass, the\nfields with evenly drawn furrows of potatoes, and the slanting shadows\nthat fell from the houses, and trees, and bushes, and even from the rows\nof potatoes--everything was bright like a pretty landscape just finished\nand freshly varnished.\n\n\"Get on, get on!\" he said to the driver, putting his head out of the\nwindow, and pulling a three-rouble note out of his pocket he handed it\nto the man as he looked round. The driver's hand fumbled with something\nat the lamp, the whip cracked, and the carriage rolled rapidly along the\nsmooth highroad.\n\n\"I want nothing, nothing but this happiness,\" he thought, staring at the\nbone button of the bell in the space between the windows, and picturing\nto himself Anna just as he had seen her last time. \"And as I go on, I\nlove her more and more. Here's the garden of the Vrede Villa.\nWhereabouts will she be? Where? How? Why did she fix on this place to\nmeet me, and why does she write in Betsy's letter?\" he thought,\nwondering now for the first time at it. But there was now no time for\nwonder. He called to the driver to stop before reaching the avenue, and\nopening the door, jumped out of the carriage as it was moving, and went\ninto the avenue that led up to the house. There was no one in the\navenue; but looking round to the right he caught sight of her. Her face\nwas hidden by a veil, but he drank in with glad eyes the special\nmovement in walking, peculiar to her alone, the slope of the shoulders,\nand the setting of the head, and at once a sort of electric shock ran\nall over him. With fresh force, he felt conscious of himself from the\nspringy motions of his legs to the movements of his lungs as he\nbreathed, and something set his lips twitching.\n\nJoining him, she pressed his hand tightly.\n\n\"You're not angry that I sent for you? I absolutely had to see you,\" she\nsaid; and the serious and set line of her lips, which he saw under the\nveil, transformed his mood at once.\n\n\"I angry! But how have you come, where from?\"\n\n\"Never mind,\" she said, laying her hand on his, \"come along, I must talk\nto you.\"\n\nHe saw that something had happened, and that the interview would not be\na joyous one. In her presence he had no will of his own: without knowing\nthe grounds of her distress, he already felt the same distress\nunconsciously passing over him.\n\n\"What is it? what?\" he asked her, squeezing her hand with his elbow, and\ntrying to read her thoughts in her face.\n\nShe walked on a few steps in silence, gathering up her courage; then\nsuddenly she stopped.\n\n\"I did not tell you yesterday,\" she began, breathing quickly and\npainfully, \"that coming home with Alexey Alexandrovitch I told him\neverything ... told him I could not be his wife, that ... and told him\neverything.\"\n\nHe heard her, unconsciously bending his whole figure down to her as\nthough hoping in this way to soften the hardness of her position for\nher. But directly she had said this he suddenly drew himself up, and a\nproud and hard expression came over his face.\n\n\"Yes, yes, that's better, a thousand times better! I know how painful it\nwas,\" he said. But she was not listening to his words, she was reading\nhis thoughts from the expression of his face. She could not guess that\nthat expression arose from the first idea that presented itself to\nVronsky--that a duel was now inevitable. The idea of a duel had never\ncrossed her mind, and so she put a different interpretation on this\npassing expression of hardness.\n\nWhen she got her husband's letter, she knew then at the bottom of her\nheart that everything would go on in the old way, that she would not\nhave the strength of will to forego her position, to abandon her son,\nand to join her lover. The morning spent at Princess Tverskaya's had\nconfirmed her still more in this. But this interview was still of the\nutmost gravity for her. She hoped that this interview would transform\nher position, and save her. If on hearing this news he were to say to\nher resolutely, passionately, without an instant's wavering: \"Throw up\neverything and come with me!\" she would give up her son and go away with\nhim. But this news had not produced what she had expected in him; he\nsimply seemed as though he were resenting some affront.\n\n\"It was not in the least painful to me. It happened of itself,\" she said\nirritably; \"and see...\" she pulled her husband's letter out of her\nglove.\n\n\"I understand, I understand,\" he interrupted her, taking the letter, but\nnot reading it, and trying to soothe her. \"The one thing I longed for,\nthe one thing I prayed for, was to cut short this position, so as to\ndevote my life to your happiness.\"\n\n\"Why do you tell me that?\" she said. \"Do you suppose I can doubt it? If\nI doubted...\"\n\n\"Who's that coming?\" said Vronsky suddenly, pointing to two ladies\nwalking towards them. \"Perhaps they know us!\" and he hurriedly turned\noff, drawing her after him into a side path.\n\n\"Oh, I don't care!\" she said. Her lips were quivering. And he fancied\nthat her eyes looked with strange fury at him from under the veil. \"I\ntell you that's not the point--I can't doubt that; but see what he\nwrites to me. Read it.\" She stood still again.\n\nAgain, just as at the first moment of hearing of her rupture with her\nhusband, Vronsky, on reading the letter, was unconsciously carried away\nby the natural sensation aroused in him by his own relation to the\nbetrayed husband. Now while he held his letter in his hands, he could\nnot help picturing the challenge, which he would most likely find at\nhome today or tomorrow, and the duel itself, in which, with the same\ncold and haughty expression that his face was assuming at this moment he\nwould await the injured husband's shot, after having himself fired into\nthe air. And at that instant there flashed across his mind the thought\nof what Serpuhovskoy had just said to him, and what he had himself been\nthinking in the morning--that it was better not to bind himself--and he\nknew that this thought he could not tell her.\n\nHaving read the letter, he raised his eyes to her, and there was no\ndetermination in them. She saw at once that he had been thinking about\nit before by himself. She knew that whatever he might say to her, he\nwould not say all he thought. And she knew that her last hope had failed\nher. This was not what she had been reckoning on.\n\n\"You see the sort of man he is,\" she said, with a shaking voice; \"he...\"\n\n\"Forgive me, but I rejoice at it,\" Vronsky interrupted. \"For God's sake,\nlet me finish!\" he added, his eyes imploring her to give him time to\nexplain his words. \"I rejoice, because things cannot, cannot possibly\nremain as he supposes.\"\n\n\"Why can't they?\" Anna said, restraining her tears, and obviously\nattaching no sort of consequence to what he said. She felt that her fate\nwas sealed.\n\nVronsky meant that after the duel--inevitable, he thought--things could\nnot go on as before, but he said something different.\n\n\"It can't go on. I hope that now you will leave him. I hope\"--he was\nconfused, and reddened--\"that you will let me arrange and plan our life.\nTomorrow...\" he was beginning.\n\nShe did not let him go on.\n\n\"But my child!\" she shrieked. \"You see what he writes! I should have to\nleave him, and I can't and won't do that.\"\n\n\"But, for God's sake, which is better?--leave your child, or keep up\nthis degrading position?\"\n\n\"To whom is it degrading?\"\n\n\"To all, and most of all to you.\"\n\n\"You say degrading ... don't say that. Those words have no meaning for\nme,\" she said in a shaking voice. She did not want him now to say what\nwas untrue. She had nothing left her but his love, and she wanted to\nlove him. \"Don't you understand that from the day I loved you everything\nhas changed for me? For me there is one thing, and one thing only--your\nlove. If that's mine, I feel so exalted, so strong, that nothing can be\nhumiliating to me. I am proud of my position, because ... proud of being\n... proud....\" She could not say what she was proud of. Tears of shame\nand despair choked her utterance. She stood still and sobbed.\n\nHe felt, too, something swelling in his throat and twitching in his\nnose, and for the first time in his life he felt on the point of\nweeping. He could not have said exactly what it was touched him so. He\nfelt sorry for her, and he felt he could not help her, and with that he\nknew that he was to blame for her wretchedness, and that he had done\nsomething wrong.\n\n\"Is not a divorce possible?\" he said feebly. She shook her head, not\nanswering. \"Couldn't you take your son, and still leave him?\"\n\n\"Yes; but it all depends on him. Now I must go to him,\" she said\nshortly. Her presentiment that all would again go on in the old way had\nnot deceived her.\n\n\"On Tuesday I shall be in Petersburg, and everything can be settled.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said. \"But don't let us talk any more of it.\"\n\nAnna's carriage, which she had sent away, and ordered to come back to\nthe little gate of the Vrede garden, drove up. Anna said good-bye to\nVronsky, and drove home.\n\n\n\nChapter 23\n\n\nOn Monday there was the usual sitting of the Commission of the 2nd of\nJune. Alexey Alexandrovitch walked into the hall where the sitting was\nheld, greeted the members and the president, as usual, and sat down in\nhis place, putting his hand on the papers laid ready before him. Among\nthese papers lay the necessary evidence and a rough outline of the\nspeech he intended to make. But he did not really need these documents.\nHe remembered every point, and did not think it necessary to go over in\nhis memory what he would say. He knew that when the time came, and when\nhe saw his enemy facing him, and studiously endeavoring to assume an\nexpression of indifference, his speech would flow of itself better than\nhe could prepare it now. He felt that the import of his speech was of\nsuch magnitude that every word of it would have weight. Meantime, as he\nlistened to the usual report, he had the most innocent and inoffensive\nair. No one, looking at his white hands, with their swollen veins and\nlong fingers, so softly stroking the edges of the white paper that lay\nbefore him, and at the air of weariness with which his head drooped on\none side, would have suspected that in a few minutes a torrent of words\nwould flow from his lips that would arouse a fearful storm, set the\nmembers shouting and attacking one another, and force the president to\ncall for order. When the report was over, Alexey Alexandrovitch\nannounced in his subdued, delicate voice that he had several points to\nbring before the meeting in regard to the Commission for the\nReorganization of the Native Tribes. All attention was turned upon him.\nAlexey Alexandrovitch cleared his throat, and not looking at his\nopponent, but selecting, as he always did while he was delivering his\nspeeches, the first person sitting opposite him, an inoffensive little\nold man, who never had an opinion of any sort in the Commission, began\nto expound his views. When he reached the point about the fundamental\nand radical law, his opponent jumped up and began to protest. Stremov,\nwho was also a member of the Commission, and also stung to the quick,\nbegan defending himself, and altogether a stormy sitting followed; but\nAlexey Alexandrovitch triumphed, and his motion was carried, three new\ncommissions were appointed, and the next day in a certain Petersburg\ncircle nothing else was talked of but this sitting. Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's success had been even greater than he had anticipated.\n\nNext morning, Tuesday, Alexey Alexandrovitch, on waking up, recollected\nwith pleasure his triumph of the previous day, and he could not help\nsmiling, though he tried to appear indifferent, when the chief secretary\nof his department, anxious to flatter him, informed him of the rumors\nthat had reached him concerning what had happened in the Commission.\n\nAbsorbed in business with the chief secretary, Alexey Alexandrovitch had\ncompletely forgotten that it was Tuesday, the day fixed by him for the\nreturn of Anna Arkadyevna, and he was surprised and received a shock of\nannoyance when a servant came in to inform him of her arrival.\n\nAnna had arrived in Petersburg early in the morning; the carriage had\nbeen sent to meet her in accordance with her telegram, and so Alexey\nAlexandrovitch might have known of her arrival. But when she arrived, he\ndid not meet her. She was told that he had not yet gone out, but was\nbusy with his secretary. She sent word to her husband that she had come,\nwent to her own room, and occupied herself in sorting out her things,\nexpecting he would come to her. But an hour passed; he did not come. She\nwent into the dining room on the pretext of giving some directions, and\nspoke loudly on purpose, expecting him to come out there; but he did not\ncome, though she heard him go to the door of his study as he parted from\nthe chief secretary. She knew that he usually went out quickly to his\noffice, and she wanted to see him before that, so that their attitude to\none another might be defined.\n\nShe walked across the drawing room and went resolutely to him. When she\nwent into his study he was in official uniform, obviously ready to go\nout, sitting at a little table on which he rested his elbows, looking\ndejectedly before him. She saw him before he saw her, and she saw that\nhe was thinking of her.\n\nOn seeing her, he would have risen, but changed his mind, then his face\nflushed hotly--a thing Anna had never seen before, and he got up quickly\nand went to meet her, looking not at her eyes, but above them at her\nforehead and hair. He went up to her, took her by the hand, and asked\nher to sit down.\n\n\"I am very glad you have come,\" he said, sitting down beside her, and\nobviously wishing to say something, he stuttered. Several times he tried\nto begin to speak, but stopped. In spite of the fact that, preparing\nherself for meeting him, she had schooled herself to despise and\nreproach him, she did not know what to say to him, and she felt sorry\nfor him. And so the silence lasted for some time. \"Is Seryozha quite\nwell?\" he said, and not waiting for an answer, he added: \"I shan't be\ndining at home today, and I have got to go out directly.\"\n\n\"I had thought of going to Moscow,\" she said.\n\n\"No, you did quite, quite right to come,\" he said, and was silent again.\n\nSeeing that he was powerless to begin the conversation, she began\nherself.\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch,\" she said, looking at him and not dropping her\neyes under his persistent gaze at her hair, \"I'm a guilty woman, I'm a\nbad woman, but I am the same as I was, as I told you then, and I have\ncome to tell you that I can change nothing.\"\n\n\"I have asked you no question about that,\" he said, all at once,\nresolutely and with hatred looking her straight in the face; \"that was\nas I had supposed.\" Under the influence of anger he apparently regained\ncomplete possession of all his faculties. \"But as I told you then, and\nhave written to you,\" he said in a thin, shrill voice, \"I repeat now,\nthat I am not bound to know this. I ignore it. Not all wives are so kind\nas you, to be in such a hurry to communicate such agreeable news to\ntheir husbands.\" He laid special emphasis on the word \"agreeable.\" \"I\nshall ignore it so long as the world knows nothing of it, so long as my\nname is not disgraced. And so I simply inform you that our relations\nmust be just as they have always been, and that only in the event of\nyour compromising me I shall be obliged to take steps to secure my\nhonor.\"\n\n\"But our relations cannot be the same as always,\" Anna began in a timid\nvoice, looking at him with dismay.\n\nWhen she saw once more those composed gestures, heard that shrill,\nchildish, and sarcastic voice, her aversion for him extinguished her\npity for him, and she felt only afraid, but at all costs she wanted to\nmake clear her position.\n\n\"I cannot be your wife while I....\" she began.\n\nHe laughed a cold and malignant laugh.\n\n\"The manner of life you have chosen is reflected, I suppose, in your\nideas. I have too much respect or contempt, or both ... I respect your\npast and despise your present ... that I was far from the interpretation\nyou put on my words.\"\n\nAnna sighed and bowed her head.\n\n\"Though indeed I fail to comprehend how, with the independence you\nshow,\" he went on, getting hot, \"--announcing your infidelity to your\nhusband and seeing nothing reprehensible in it, apparently--you can see\nanything reprehensible in performing a wife's duties in relation to your\nhusband.\"\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch! What is it you want of me?\"\n\n\"I want you not to meet that man here, and to conduct yourself so that\nneither the world nor the servants can reproach you ... not to see him.\nThat's not much, I think. And in return you will enjoy all the\nprivileges of a faithful wife without fulfilling her duties. That's all\nI have to say to you. Now it's time for me to go. I'm not dining at\nhome.\" He got up and moved towards the door.\n\nAnna got up too. Bowing in silence, he let her pass before him.\n\n\n\nChapter 24\n\n\nThe night spent by Levin on the haycock did not pass without result for\nhim. The way in which he had been managing his land revolted him and had\nlost all attraction for him. In spite of the magnificent harvest, never\nhad there been, or, at least, never it seemed to him, had there been so\nmany hindrances and so many quarrels between him and the peasants as\nthat year, and the origin of these failures and this hostility was now\nperfectly comprehensible to him. The delight he had experienced in the\nwork itself, and the consequent greater intimacy with the peasants, the\nenvy he felt of them, of their life, the desire to adopt that life,\nwhich had been to him that night not a dream but an intention, the\nexecution of which he had thought out in detail--all this had so\ntransformed his view of the farming of the land as he had managed it,\nthat he could not take his former interest in it, and could not help\nseeing that unpleasant relation between him and the workpeople which was\nthe foundation of it all. The herd of improved cows such as Pava, the\nwhole land ploughed over and enriched, the nine level fields surrounded\nwith hedges, the two hundred and forty acres heavily manured, the seed\nsown in drills, and all the rest of it--it was all splendid if only the\nwork had been done for themselves, or for themselves and\ncomrades--people in sympathy with them. But he saw clearly now (his work\non a book of agriculture, in which the chief element in husbandry was to\nhave been the laborer, greatly assisted him in this) that the sort of\nfarming he was carrying on was nothing but a cruel and stubborn struggle\nbetween him and the laborers, in which there was on one side--his\nside--a continual intense effort to change everything to a pattern he\nconsidered better; on the other side, the natural order of things. And\nin this struggle he saw that with immense expenditure of force on his\nside, and with no effort or even intention on the other side, all that\nwas attained was that the work did not go to the liking of either side,\nand that splendid tools, splendid cattle and land were spoiled with no\ngood to anyone. Worst of all, the energy expended on this work was not\nsimply wasted. He could not help feeling now, since the meaning of this\nsystem had become clear to him, that the aim of his energy was a most\nunworthy one. In reality, what was the struggle about? He was struggling\nfor every farthing of his share (and he could not help it, for he had\nonly to relax his efforts, and he would not have had the money to pay\nhis laborers' wages), while they were only struggling to be able to do\ntheir work easily and agreeably, that is to say, as they were used to\ndoing it. It was for his interests that every laborer should work as\nhard as possible, and that while doing so he should keep his wits about\nhim, so as to try not to break the winnowing machines, the horse rakes,\nthe thrashing machines, that he should attend to what he was doing. What\nthe laborer wanted was to work as pleasantly as possible, with rests,\nand above all, carelessly and heedlessly, without thinking. That summer\nLevin saw this at every step. He sent the men to mow some clover for\nhay, picking out the worst patches where the clover was overgrown with\ngrass and weeds and of no use for seed; again and again they mowed the\nbest acres of clover, justifying themselves by the pretense that the\nbailiff had told them to, and trying to pacify him with the assurance\nthat it would be splendid hay; but he knew that it was owing to those\nacres being so much easier to mow. He sent out a hay machine for\npitching the hay--it was broken at the first row because it was dull\nwork for a peasant to sit on the seat in front with the great wings\nwaving above him. And he was told, \"Don't trouble, your honor, sure, the\nwomenfolks will pitch it quick enough.\" The ploughs were practically\nuseless, because it never occurred to the laborer to raise the share\nwhen he turned the plough, and forcing it round, he strained the horses\nand tore up the ground, and Levin was begged not to mind about it. The\nhorses were allowed to stray into the wheat because not a single laborer\nwould consent to be night-watchman, and in spite of orders to the\ncontrary, the laborers insisted on taking turns for night duty, and\nIvan, after working all day long, fell asleep, and was very penitent for\nhis fault, saying, \"Do what you will to me, your honor.\"\n\nThey killed three of the best calves by letting them into the clover\naftermath without care as to their drinking, and nothing would make the\nmen believe that they had been blown out by the clover, but they told\nhim, by way of consolation, that one of his neighbors had lost a hundred\nand twelve head of cattle in three days. All this happened, not because\nanyone felt ill-will to Levin or his farm; on the contrary, he knew that\nthey liked him, thought him a simple gentleman (their highest praise);\nbut it happened simply because all they wanted was to work merrily and\ncarelessly, and his interests were not only remote and incomprehensible\nto them, but fatally opposed to their most just claims. Long before,\nLevin had felt dissatisfaction with his own position in regard to the\nland. He saw where his boat leaked, but he did not look for the leak,\nperhaps purposely deceiving himself. (Nothing would be left him if he\nlost faith in it.) But now he could deceive himself no longer. The\nfarming of the land, as he was managing it, had become not merely\nunattractive but revolting to him, and he could take no further interest\nin it.\n\nTo this now was joined the presence, only twenty-five miles off, of\nKitty Shtcherbatskaya, whom he longed to see and could not see. Darya\nAlexandrovna Oblonskaya had invited him, when he was over there, to\ncome; to come with the object of renewing his offer to her sister, who\nwould, so she gave him to understand, accept him now. Levin himself had\nfelt on seeing Kitty Shtcherbatskaya that he had never ceased to love\nher; but he could not go over to the Oblonskys', knowing she was there.\nThe fact that he had made her an offer, and she had refused him, had\nplaced an insuperable barrier between her and him. \"I can't ask her to\nbe my wife merely because she can't be the wife of the man she wanted to\nmarry,\" he said to himself. The thought of this made him cold and\nhostile to her. \"I should not be able to speak to her without a feeling\nof reproach; I could not look at her without resentment; and she will\nonly hate me all the more, as she's bound to. And besides, how can I\nnow, after what Darya Alexandrovna told me, go to see them? Can I help\nshowing that I know what she told me? And me to go magnanimously to\nforgive her, and have pity on her! Me go through a performance before\nher of forgiving, and deigning to bestow my love on her!... What induced\nDarya Alexandrovna to tell me that? By chance I might have seen her,\nthen everything would have happened of itself; but, as it is, it's out\nof the question, out of the question!\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna sent him a letter, asking him for a side-saddle for\nKitty's use. \"I'm told you have a side-saddle,\" she wrote to him; \"I\nhope you will bring it over yourself.\"\n\nThis was more than he could stand. How could a woman of any\nintelligence, of any delicacy, put her sister in such a humiliating\nposition! He wrote ten notes, and tore them all up, and sent the saddle\nwithout any reply. To write that he would go was impossible, because he\ncould not go; to write that he could not come because something\nprevented him, or that he would be away, that was still worse. He sent\nthe saddle without an answer, and with a sense of having done something\nshameful; he handed over all the now revolting business of the estate to\nthe bailiff, and set off next day to a remote district to see his friend\nSviazhsky, who had splendid marshes for grouse in his neighborhood, and\nhad lately written to ask him to keep a long-standing promise to stay\nwith him. The grouse-marsh, in the Surovsky district, had long tempted\nLevin, but he had continually put off this visit on account of his work\non the estate. Now he was glad to get away from the neighborhood of the\nShtcherbatskys, and still more from his farm work, especially on a\nshooting expedition, which always in trouble served as the best\nconsolation.\n\n\n\nChapter 25\n\n\nIn the Surovsky district there was no railway nor service of post\nhorses, and Levin drove there with his own horses in his big,\nold-fashioned carriage.\n\nHe stopped halfway at a well-to-do peasant's to feed his horses. A bald,\nwell-preserved old man, with a broad, red beard, gray on his cheeks,\nopened the gate, squeezing against the gatepost to let the three horses\npass. Directing the coachman to a place under the shed in the big,\nclean, tidy yard, with charred, old-fashioned ploughs in it, the old man\nasked Levin to come into the parlor. A cleanly dressed young woman, with\nclogs on her bare feet, was scrubbing the floor in the new outer room.\nShe was frightened of the dog, that ran in after Levin, and uttered a\nshriek, but began laughing at her own fright at once when she was told\nthe dog would not hurt her. Pointing Levin with her bare arm to the door\ninto the parlor, she bent down again, hiding her handsome face, and went\non scrubbing.\n\n\"Would you like the samovar?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes, please.\"\n\nThe parlor was a big room, with a Dutch stove, and a screen dividing it\ninto two. Under the holy pictures stood a table painted in patterns, a\nbench, and two chairs. Near the entrance was a dresser full of crockery.\nThe shutters were closed, there were few flies, and it was so clean that\nLevin was anxious that Laska, who had been running along the road and\nbathing in puddles, should not muddy the floor, and ordered her to a\nplace in the corner by the door. After looking round the parlor, Levin\nwent out in the back yard. The good-looking young woman in clogs,\nswinging the empty pails on the yoke, ran on before him to the well for\nwater.\n\n\"Look sharp, my girl!\" the old man shouted after her, good-humoredly,\nand he went up to Levin. \"Well, sir, are you going to Nikolay Ivanovitch\nSviazhsky? His honor comes to us too,\" he began, chatting, leaning his\nelbows on the railing of the steps. In the middle of the old man's\naccount of his acquaintance with Sviazhsky, the gates creaked again, and\nlaborers came into the yard from the fields, with wooden ploughs and\nharrows. The horses harnessed to the ploughs and harrows were sleek and\nfat. The laborers were obviously of the household: two were young men in\ncotton shirts and caps, the two others were hired laborers in homespun\nshirts, one an old man, the other a young fellow. Moving off from the\nsteps, the old man went up to the horses and began unharnessing them.\n\n\"What have they been ploughing?\" asked Levin.\n\n\"Ploughing up the potatoes. We rent a bit of land too. Fedot, don't let\nout the gelding, but take it to the trough, and we'll put the other in\nharness.\"\n\n\"Oh, father, the ploughshares I ordered, has he brought them along?\"\nasked the big, healthy-looking fellow, obviously the old man's son.\n\n\"There ... in the outer room,\" answered the old man, bundling together\nthe harness he had taken off, and flinging it on the ground. \"You can\nput them on, while they have dinner.\"\n\nThe good-looking young woman came into the outer room with the full\npails dragging at her shoulders. More women came on the scene from\nsomewhere, young and handsome, middle-aged, old and ugly, with children\nand without children.\n\nThe samovar was beginning to sing; the laborers and the family, having\ndisposed of the horses, came in to dinner. Levin, getting his provisions\nout of his carriage, invited the old man to take tea with him.\n\n\"Well, I have had some today already,\" said the old man, obviously\naccepting the invitation with pleasure. \"But just a glass for company.\"\n\nOver their tea Levin heard all about the old man's farming. Ten years\nbefore, the old man had rented three hundred acres from the lady who\nowned them, and a year ago he had bought them and rented another three\nhundred from a neighboring landowner. A small part of the land--the\nworst part--he let out for rent, while a hundred acres of arable land he\ncultivated himself with his family and two hired laborers. The old man\ncomplained that things were doing badly. But Levin saw that he simply\ndid so from a feeling of propriety, and that his farm was in a\nflourishing condition. If it had been unsuccessful he would not have\nbought land at thirty-five roubles the acre, he would not have married\nhis three sons and a nephew, he would not have rebuilt twice after\nfires, and each time on a larger scale. In spite of the old man's\ncomplaints, it was evident that he was proud, and justly proud, of his\nprosperity, proud of his sons, his nephew, his sons' wives, his horses\nand his cows, and especially of the fact that he was keeping all this\nfarming going. From his conversation with the old man, Levin thought he\nwas not averse to new methods either. He had planted a great many\npotatoes, and his potatoes, as Levin had seen driving past, were already\npast flowering and beginning to die down, while Levin's were only just\ncoming into flower. He earthed up his potatoes with a modern plough\nborrowed from a neighboring landowner. He sowed wheat. The trifling fact\nthat, thinning out his rye, the old man used the rye he thinned out for\nhis horses, specially struck Levin. How many times had Levin seen this\nsplendid fodder wasted, and tried to get it saved; but always it had\nturned out to be impossible. The peasant got this done, and he could not\nsay enough in praise of it as food for the beasts.\n\n\"What have the wenches to do? They carry it out in bundles to the\nroadside, and the cart brings it away.\"\n\n\"Well, we landowners can't manage well with our laborers,\" said Levin,\nhanding him a glass of tea.\n\n\"Thank you,\" said the old man, and he took the glass, but refused sugar,\npointing to a lump he had left. \"They're simple destruction,\" said he.\n\"Look at Sviazhsky's, for instance. We know what the land's\nlike--first-rate, yet there's not much of a crop to boast of. It's not\nlooked after enough--that's all it is!\"\n\n\"But you work your land with hired laborers?\"\n\n\"We're all peasants together. We go into everything ourselves. If a\nman's no use, he can go, and we can manage by ourselves.\"\n\n\"Father, Finogen wants some tar,\" said the young woman in the clogs,\ncoming in.\n\n\"Yes, yes, that's how it is, sir!\" said the old man, getting up, and\ncrossing himself deliberately, he thanked Levin and went out.\n\nWhen Levin went into the kitchen to call his coachman he saw the whole\nfamily at dinner. The women were standing up waiting on them. The young,\nsturdy-looking son was telling something funny with his mouth full of\npudding, and they were all laughing, the woman in the clogs, who was\npouring cabbage soup into a bowl, laughing most merrily of all.\n\nVery probably the good-looking face of the young woman in the clogs had\na good deal to do with the impression of well-being this peasant\nhousehold made upon Levin, but the impression was so strong that Levin\ncould never get rid of it. And all the way from the old peasant's to\nSviazhsky's he kept recalling this peasant farm as though there were\nsomething in this impression that demanded his special attention.\n\n\n\nChapter 26\n\n\nSviazhsky was the marshal of his district. He was five years older than\nLevin, and had long been married. His sister-in-law, a young girl Levin\nliked very much, lived in his house; and Levin knew that Sviazhsky and\nhis wife would have greatly liked to marry the girl to him. He knew this\nwith certainty, as so-called eligible young men always know it, though\nhe could never have brought himself to speak of it to anyone; and he\nknew too that, although he wanted to get married, and although by every\ntoken this very attractive girl would make an excellent wife, he could\nno more have married her, even if he had not been in love with Kitty\nShtcherbatskaya, than he could have flown up to the sky. And this\nknowledge poisoned the pleasure he had hoped to find in the visit to\nSviazhsky.\n\nOn getting Sviazhsky's letter with the invitation for shooting, Levin\nhad immediately thought of this; but in spite of it he had made up his\nmind that Sviazhsky's having such views for him was simply his own\ngroundless supposition, and so he would go, all the same. Besides, at\nthe bottom of his heart he had a desire to try himself, put himself to\nthe test in regard to this girl. The Sviazhskys' home-life was\nexceedingly pleasant, and Sviazhsky himself, the best type of man taking\npart in local affairs that Levin knew, was very interesting to him.\n\nSviazhsky was one of those people, always a source of wonder to Levin,\nwhose convictions, very logical though never original, go one way by\nthemselves, while their life, exceedingly definite and firm in its\ndirection, goes its way quite apart and almost always in direct\ncontradiction to their convictions. Sviazhsky was an extremely advanced\nman. He despised the nobility, and believed the mass of the nobility to\nbe secretly in favor of serfdom, and only concealing their views from\ncowardice. He regarded Russia as a ruined country, rather after the\nstyle of Turkey, and the government of Russia as so bad that he never\npermitted himself to criticize its doings seriously, and yet he was a\nfunctionary of that government and a model marshal of nobility, and when\nhe drove about he always wore the cockade of office and the cap with the\nred band. He considered human life only tolerable abroad, and went\nabroad to stay at every opportunity, and at the same time he carried on\na complex and improved system of agriculture in Russia, and with extreme\ninterest followed everything and knew everything that was being done in\nRussia. He considered the Russian peasant as occupying a stage of\ndevelopment intermediate between the ape and the man, and at the same\ntime in the local assemblies no one was readier to shake hands with the\npeasants and listen to their opinion. He believed neither in God nor the\ndevil, but was much concerned about the question of the improvement of\nthe clergy and the maintenance of their revenues, and took special\ntrouble to keep up the church in his village.\n\nOn the woman question he was on the side of the extreme advocates of\ncomplete liberty for women, and especially their right to labor. But he\nlived with his wife on such terms that their affectionate childless home\nlife was the admiration of everyone, and arranged his wife's life so\nthat she did nothing and could do nothing but share her husband's\nefforts that her time should pass as happily and as agreeably as\npossible.\n\nIf it had not been a characteristic of Levin's to put the most favorable\ninterpretation on people, Sviazhsky's character would have presented no\ndoubt or difficulty to him: he would have said to himself, \"a fool or a\nknave,\" and everything would have seemed clear. But he could not say \"a\nfool,\" because Sviazhsky was unmistakably clever, and moreover, a highly\ncultivated man, who was exceptionally modest over his culture. There was\nnot a subject he knew nothing of. But he did not display his knowledge\nexcept when he was compelled to do so. Still less could Levin say that\nhe was a knave, as Sviazhsky was unmistakably an honest, good-hearted,\nsensible man, who worked good-humoredly, keenly, and perseveringly at\nhis work; he was held in high honor by everyone about him, and certainly\nhe had never consciously done, and was indeed incapable of doing,\nanything base.\n\nLevin tried to understand him, and could not understand him, and looked\nat him and his life as at a living enigma.\n\nLevin and he were very friendly, and so Levin used to venture to sound\nSviazhsky, to try to get at the very foundation of his view of life; but\nit was always in vain. Every time Levin tried to penetrate beyond the\nouter chambers of Sviazhsky's mind, which were hospitably open to all,\nhe noticed that Sviazhsky was slightly disconcerted; faint signs of\nalarm were visible in his eyes, as though he were afraid Levin would\nunderstand him, and he would give him a kindly, good-humored repulse.\n\nJust now, since his disenchantment with farming, Levin was particularly\nglad to stay with Sviazhsky. Apart from the fact that the sight of this\nhappy and affectionate couple, so pleased with themselves and everyone\nelse, and their well-ordered home had always a cheering effect on Levin,\nhe felt a longing, now that he was so dissatisfied with his own life, to\nget at that secret in Sviazhsky that gave him such clearness,\ndefiniteness, and good courage in life. Moreover, Levin knew that at\nSviazhsky's he should meet the landowners of the neighborhood, and it\nwas particularly interesting for him just now to hear and take part in\nthose rural conversations concerning crops, laborers' wages, and so on,\nwhich, he was aware, are conventionally regarded as something very low,\nbut which seemed to him just now to constitute the one subject of\nimportance. \"It was not, perhaps, of importance in the days of serfdom,\nand it may not be of importance in England. In both cases the conditions\nof agriculture are firmly established; but among us now, when everything\nhas been turned upside down and is only just taking shape, the question\nwhat form these conditions will take is the one question of importance\nin Russia,\" thought Levin.\n\nThe shooting turned out to be worse than Levin had expected. The marsh\nwas dry and there were no grouse at all. He walked about the whole day\nand only brought back three birds, but to make up for that--he brought\nback, as he always did from shooting, an excellent appetite, excellent\nspirits, and that keen, intellectual mood which with him always\naccompanied violent physical exertion. And while out shooting, when he\nseemed to be thinking of nothing at all, suddenly the old man and his\nfamily kept coming back to his mind, and the impression of them seemed\nto claim not merely his attention, but the solution of some question\nconnected with them.\n\nIn the evening at tea, two landowners who had come about some business\nconnected with a wardship were of the party, and the interesting\nconversation Levin had been looking forward to sprang up.\n\nLevin was sitting beside his hostess at the tea table, and was obliged\nto keep up a conversation with her and her sister, who was sitting\nopposite him. Madame Sviazhskaya was a round-faced, fair-haired, rather\nshort woman, all smiles and dimples. Levin tried through her to get a\nsolution of the weighty enigma her husband presented to his mind; but he\nhad not complete freedom of ideas, because he was in an agony of\nembarrassment. This agony of embarrassment was due to the fact that the\nsister-in-law was sitting opposite to him, in a dress, specially put on,\nas he fancied, for his benefit, cut particularly open, in the shape of a\ntrapeze, on her white bosom. This quadrangular opening, in spite of the\nbosom's being very white, or just because it was very white, deprived\nLevin of the full use of his faculties. He imagined, probably\nmistakenly, that this low-necked bodice had been made on his account,\nand felt that he had no right to look at it, and tried not to look at\nit; but he felt that he was to blame for the very fact of the low-necked\nbodice having been made. It seemed to Levin that he had deceived\nsomeone, that he ought to explain something, but that to explain it was\nimpossible, and for that reason he was continually blushing, was ill at\nease and awkward. His awkwardness infected the pretty sister-in-law too.\nBut their hostess appeared not to observe this, and kept purposely\ndrawing her into the conversation.\n\n\"You say,\" she said, pursuing the subject that had been started, \"that\nmy husband cannot be interested in what's Russian. It's quite the\ncontrary; he is always in cheerful spirits abroad, but not as he is\nhere. Here, he feels in his proper place. He has so much to do, and he\nhas the faculty of interesting himself in everything. Oh, you've not\nbeen to see our school, have you?\"\n\n\"I've seen it.... The little house covered with ivy, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Yes; that's Nastia's work,\" she said, indicating her sister.\n\n\"You teach in it yourself?\" asked Levin, trying to look above the open\nneck, but feeling that wherever he looked in that direction he should\nsee it.\n\n\"Yes; I used to teach in it myself, and do teach still, but we have a\nfirst-rate schoolmistress now. And we've started gymnastic exercises.\"\n\n\"No, thank you, I won't have any more tea,\" said Levin, and conscious of\ndoing a rude thing, but incapable of continuing the conversation, he got\nup, blushing. \"I hear a very interesting conversation,\" he added, and\nwalked to the other end of the table, where Sviazhsky was sitting with\nthe two gentlemen of the neighborhood. Sviazhsky was sitting sideways,\nwith one elbow on the table, and a cup in one hand, while with the other\nhand he gathered up his beard, held it to his nose and let it drop\nagain, as though he were smelling it. His brilliant black eyes were\nlooking straight at the excited country gentleman with gray whiskers,\nand apparently he derived amusement from his remarks. The gentleman was\ncomplaining of the peasants. It was evident to Levin that Sviazhsky knew\nan answer to this gentleman's complaints, which would at once demolish\nhis whole contention, but that in his position he could not give\nutterance to this answer, and listened, not without pleasure, to the\nlandowner's comic speeches.\n\nThe gentleman with the gray whiskers was obviously an inveterate\nadherent of serfdom and a devoted agriculturist, who had lived all his\nlife in the country. Levin saw proofs of this in his dress, in the\nold-fashioned threadbare coat, obviously not his everyday attire, in his\nshrewd, deep-set eyes, in his idiomatic, fluent Russian, in the\nimperious tone that had become habitual from long use, and in the\nresolute gestures of his large, red, sunburnt hands, with an old\nbetrothal ring on the little finger.\n\n\n\nChapter 27\n\n\n\"If I'd only the heart to throw up what's been set going ... such a lot\nof trouble wasted ... I'd turn my back on the whole business, sell up,\ngo off like Nikolay Ivanovitch ... to hear _La Belle Helene_,\" said the\nlandowner, a pleasant smile lighting up his shrewd old face.\n\n\"But you see you don't throw it up,\" said Nikolay Ivanovitch Sviazhsky;\n\"so there must be something gained.\"\n\n\"The only gain is that I live in my own house, neither bought nor hired.\nBesides, one keeps hoping the people will learn sense. Though, instead\nof that, you'd never believe it--the drunkenness, the immorality! They\nkeep chopping and changing their bits of land. Not a sight of a horse or\na cow. The peasant's dying of hunger, but just go and take him on as a\nlaborer, he'll do his best to do you a mischief, and then bring you up\nbefore the justice of the peace.\"\n\n\"But then you make complaints to the justice too,\" said Sviazhsky.\n\n\"I lodge complaints? Not for anything in the world! Such a talking, and\nsuch a to-do, that one would have cause to regret it. At the works, for\ninstance, they pocketed the advance-money and made off. What did the\njustice do? Why, acquitted them. Nothing keeps them in order but their\nown communal court and their village elder. He'll flog them in the good\nold style! But for that there'd be nothing for it but to give it all up\nand run away.\"\n\nObviously the landowner was chaffing Sviazhsky, who, far from resenting\nit, was apparently amused by it.\n\n\"But you see we manage our land without such extreme measures,\" said he,\nsmiling: \"Levin and I and this gentleman.\"\n\nHe indicated the other landowner.\n\n\"Yes, the thing's done at Mihail Petrovitch's, but ask him how it's\ndone. Do you call that a rational system?\" said the landowner, obviously\nrather proud of the word \"rational.\"\n\n\"My system's very simple,\" said Mihail Petrovitch, \"thank God. All my\nmanagement rests on getting the money ready for the autumn taxes, and\nthe peasants come to me, 'Father, master, help us!' Well, the peasants\nare all one's neighbors; one feels for them. So one advances them a\nthird, but one says: 'Remember, lads, I have helped you, and you must\nhelp me when I need it--whether it's the sowing of the oats, or the\nhaycutting, or the harvest'; and well, one agrees, so much for each\ntaxpayer--though there are dishonest ones among them too, it's true.\"\n\nLevin, who had long been familiar with these patriarchal methods,\nexchanged glances with Sviazhsky and interrupted Mihail Petrovitch,\nturning again to the gentleman with the gray whiskers.\n\n\"Then what do you think?\" he asked; \"what system is one to adopt\nnowadays?\"\n\n\"Why, manage like Mihail Petrovitch, or let the land for half the crop\nor for rent to the peasants; that one can do--only that's just how the\ngeneral prosperity of the country is being ruined. Where the land with\nserf-labor and good management gave a yield of nine to one, on the\nhalf-crop system it yields three to one. Russia has been ruined by the\nemancipation!\"\n\nSviazhsky looked with smiling eyes at Levin, and even made a faint\ngesture of irony to him; but Levin did not think the landowner's words\nabsurd, he understood them better than he did Sviazhsky. A great deal\nmore of what the gentleman with the gray whiskers said to show in what\nway Russia was ruined by the emancipation struck him indeed as very\ntrue, new to him, and quite incontestable. The landowner unmistakably\nspoke his own individual thought--a thing that very rarely happens--and\na thought to which he had been brought not by a desire of finding some\nexercise for an idle brain, but a thought which had grown up out of the\nconditions of his life, which he had brooded over in the solitude of his\nvillage, and had considered in every aspect.\n\n\"The point is, don't you see, that progress of every sort is only made\nby the use of authority,\" he said, evidently wishing to show he was not\nwithout culture. \"Take the reforms of Peter, of Catherine, of Alexander.\nTake European history. And progress in agriculture more than anything\nelse--the potato, for instance, that was introduced among us by force.\nThe wooden plough too wasn't always used. It was introduced maybe in the\ndays before the Empire, but it was probably brought in by force. Now, in\nour own day, we landowners in the serf times used various improvements\nin our husbandry: drying machines and thrashing machines, and carting\nmanure and all the modern implements--all that we brought into use by\nour authority, and the peasants opposed it at first, and ended by\nimitating us. Now, by the abolition of serfdom we have been deprived of\nour authority; and so our husbandry, where it had been raised to a high\nlevel, is bound to sink to the most savage primitive condition. That's\nhow I see it.\"\n\n\"But why so? If it's rational, you'll be able to keep up the same system\nwith hired labor,\" said Sviazhsky.\n\n\"We've no power over them. With whom am I going to work the system,\nallow me to ask?\"\n\n\"There it is--the labor force--the chief element in agriculture,\"\nthought Levin.\n\n\"With laborers.\"\n\n\"The laborers won't work well, and won't work with good implements. Our\nlaborer can do nothing but get drunk like a pig, and when he's drunk he\nruins everything you give him. He makes the horses ill with too much\nwater, cuts good harness, barters the tires of the wheels for drink,\ndrops bits of iron into the thrashing machine, so as to break it. He\nloathes the sight of anything that's not after his fashion. And that's\nhow it is the whole level of husbandry has fallen. Lands gone out of\ncultivation, overgrown with weeds, or divided among the peasants, and\nwhere millions of bushels were raised you get a hundred thousand; the\nwealth of the country has decreased. If the same thing had been done,\nbut with care that...\"\n\nAnd he proceeded to unfold his own scheme of emancipation by means of\nwhich these drawbacks might have been avoided.\n\nThis did not interest Levin, but when he had finished, Levin went back\nto his first position, and, addressing Sviazhsky, and trying to draw him\ninto expressing his serious opinion:-`\n\n\"That the standard of culture is falling, and that with our present\nrelations to the peasants there is no possibility of farming on a\nrational system to yield a profit--that's perfectly true,\" said he.\n\n\"I don't believe it,\" Sviazhsky replied quite seriously; \"all I see is\nthat we don't know how to cultivate the land, and that our system of\nagriculture in the serf days was by no means too high, but too low. We\nhave no machines, no good stock, no efficient supervision; we don't even\nknow how to keep accounts. Ask any landowner; he won't be able to tell\nyou what crop's profitable, and what's not.\"\n\n\"Italian bookkeeping,\" said the gentleman of the gray whiskers\nironically. \"You may keep your books as you like, but if they spoil\neverything for you, there won't be any profit.\"\n\n\"Why do they spoil things? A poor thrashing machine, or your Russian\npresser, they will break, but my steam press they don't break. A\nwretched Russian nag they'll ruin, but keep good dray-horses--they won't\nruin them. And so it is all round. We must raise our farming to a higher\nlevel.\"\n\n\"Oh, if one only had the means to do it, Nikolay Ivanovitch! It's all\nvery well for you; but for me, with a son to keep at the university,\nlads to be educated at the high school--how am I going to buy these\ndray-horses?\"\n\n\"Well, that's what the land banks are for.\"\n\n\"To get what's left me sold by auction? No, thank you.\"\n\n\"I don't agree that it's necessary or possible to raise the level of\nagriculture still higher,\" said Levin. \"I devote myself to it, and I\nhave means, but I can do nothing. As to the banks, I don't know to whom\nthey're any good. For my part, anyway, whatever I've spent money on in\nthe way of husbandry, it has been a loss: stock--a loss, machinery--a\nloss.\"\n\n\"That's true enough,\" the gentleman with the gray whiskers chimed in,\npositively laughing with satisfaction.\n\n\"And I'm not the only one,\" pursued Levin. \"I mix with all the\nneighboring landowners, who are cultivating their land on a rational\nsystem; they all, with rare exceptions, are doing so at a loss. Come,\ntell us how does your land do--does it pay?\" said Levin, and at once in\nSviazhsky's eyes he detected that fleeting expression of alarm which he\nhad noticed whenever he had tried to penetrate beyond the outer chambers\nof Sviazhsky's mind.\n\nMoreover, this question on Levin's part was not quite in good faith.\nMadame Sviazhskaya had just told him at tea that they had that summer\ninvited a German expert in bookkeeping from Moscow, who for a\nconsideration of five hundred roubles had investigated the management of\ntheir property, and found that it was costing them a loss of three\nthousand odd roubles. She did not remember the precise sum, but it\nappeared that the German had worked it out to the fraction of a\nfarthing.\n\nThe gray-whiskered landowner smiled at the mention of the profits of\nSviazhsky's famling, obviously aware how much gain his neighbor and\nmarshal was likely to be making.\n\n\"Possibly it does not pay,\" answered Sviazhsky. \"That merely proves\neither that I'm a bad manager, or that I've sunk my capital for the\nincrease of my rents.\"\n\n\"Oh, rent!\" Levin cried with horror. \"Rent there may be in Europe, where\nland has been improved by the labor put into it, but with us all the\nland is deteriorating from the labor put into it--in other words they're\nworking it out; so there's no question of rent.\"\n\n\"How no rent? It's a law.\"\n\n\"Then we're outside the law; rent explains nothing for us, but simply\nmuddles us. No, tell me how there can be a theory of rent?...\"\n\n\"Will you have some junket? Masha, pass us some junket or raspberries.\"\nHe turned to his wife. \"Extraordinarily late the raspberries are lasting\nthis year.\"\n\nAnd in the happiest frame of mind Sviazhsky got up and walked off,\napparently supposing the conversation to have ended at the very point\nwhen to Levin it seemed that it was only just beginning.\n\nHaving lost his antagonist, Levin continued the conversation with the\ngray-whiskered landowner, trying to prove to him that all the difficulty\narises from the fact that we don't find out the peculiarities and habits\nof our laborer; but the landowner, like all men who think independently\nand in isolation, was slow in taking in any other person's idea, and\nparticularly partial to his own. He stuck to it that the Russian peasant\nis a swine and likes swinishness, and that to get him out of his\nswinishness one must have authority, and there is none; one must have\nthe stick, and we have become so liberal that we have all of a sudden\nreplaced the stick that served us for a thousand years by lawyers and\nmodel prisons, where the worthless, stinking peasant is fed on good soup\nand has a fixed allowance of cubic feet of air.\n\n\"What makes you think,\" said Levin, trying to get back to the question,\n\"that it's impossible to find some relation to the laborer in which the\nlabor would become productive?\"\n\n\"That never could be so with the Russian peasantry; we've no power over\nthem,\" answered the landowner.\n\n\"How can new conditions be found?\" said Sviazhsky. Having eaten some\njunket and lighted a cigarette, he came back to the discussion. \"All\npossible relations to the labor force have been defined and studied,\" he\nsaid. \"The relic of barbarism, the primitive commune with each guarantee\nfor all, will disappear of itself; serfdom has been abolished--there\nremains nothing but free labor, and its forms are fixed and ready made,\nand must be adopted. Permanent hands, day-laborers, rammers--you can't\nget out of those forms.\"\n\n\"But Europe is dissatisfied with these forms.\"\n\n\"Dissatisfied, and seeking new ones. And will find them, in all\nprobability.\"\n\n\"That's just what I was meaning,\" answered Levin. \"Why shouldn't we seek\nthem for ourselves?\"\n\n\"Because it would be just like inventing afresh the means for\nconstructing railways. They are ready, invented.\"\n\n\"But if they don't do for us, if they're stupid?\" said Levin.\n\nAnd again he detected the expression of alarm in the eyes of Sviazhsky.\n\n\"Oh, yes; we'll bury the world under our caps! We've found the secret\nEurope was seeking for! I've heard all that; but, excuse me, do you know\nall that's been done in Europe on the question of the organization of\nlabor?\"\n\n\"No, very little.\"\n\n\"That question is now absorbing the best minds in Europe. The\nSchulze-Delitsch movement.... And then all this enormous literature of\nthe labor question, the most liberal Lassalle movement ... the Mulhausen\nexperiment? That's a fact by now, as you're probably aware.\"\n\n\"I have some idea of it, but very vague.\"\n\n\"No, you only say that; no doubt you know all about it as well as I do.\nI'm not a professor of sociology, of course, but it interested me, and\nreally, if it interests you, you ought to study it.\"\n\n\"But what conclusion have they come to?\"\n\n\"Excuse me...\"\n\nThe two neighbors had risen, and Sviazhsky, once more checking Levin in\nhis inconvenient habit of peeping into what was beyond the outer\nchambers of his mind, went to see his guests out.\n\n\n\nChapter 28\n\n\nLevin was insufferably bored that evening with the ladies; he was\nstirred as he had never been before by the idea that the dissatisfaction\nhe was feeling with his system of managing his land was not an\nexceptional case, but the general condition of things in Russia; that\nthe organization of some relation of the laborers to the soil in which\nthey would work, as with the peasant he had met half-way to the\nSviazhskys', was not a dream, but a problem which must be solved. And it\nseemed to him that the problem could be solved, and that he ought to try\nand solve it.\n\nAfter saying good-night to the ladies, and promising to stay the whole\nof the next day, so as to make an expedition on horseback with them to\nsee an interesting ruin in the crown forest, Levin went, before going to\nbed, into his host's study to get the books on the labor question that\nSviazhsky had offered him. Sviazhsky's study was a huge room, surrounded\nby bookcases and with two tables in it--one a massive writing table,\nstanding in the middle of the room, and the other a round table, covered\nwith recent numbers of reviews and journals in different languages,\nranged like the rays of a star round the lamp. On the writing table was\na stand of drawers marked with gold lettering, and full of papers of\nvarious sorts.\n\nSviazhsky took out the books, and sat down in a rocking-chair.\n\n\"What are you looking at there?\" he said to Levin, who was standing at\nthe round table looking through the reviews.\n\n\"Oh, yes, there's a very interesting article here,\" said Sviazhsky of\nthe review Levin was holding in his hand. \"It appears,\" he went on, with\neager interest, \"that Friedrich was not, after all, the person chiefly\nresponsible for the partition of Poland. It is proved...\"\n\nAnd with his characteristic clearness, he summed up those new, very\nimportant, and interesting revelations. Although Levin was engrossed at\nthe moment by his ideas about the problem of the land, he wondered, as\nhe heard Sviazhsky: \"What is there inside of him? And why, why is he\ninterested in the partition of Poland?\" When Sviazhsky had finished,\nLevin could not help asking: \"Well, and what then?\" But there was\nnothing to follow. It was simply interesting that it had been proved to\nbe so and so. But Sviazhsky did not explain, and saw no need to explain\nwhy it was interesting to him.\n\n\"Yes, but I was very much interested by your irritable neighbor,\" said\nLevin, sighing. \"He's a clever fellow, and said a lot that was true.\"\n\n\"Oh, get along with you! An inveterate supporter of serfdom at heart,\nlike all of them!\" said Sviazhsky.\n\n\"Whose marshal you are.\"\n\n\"Yes, only I marshal them in the other direction,\" said Sviazhsky,\nlaughing.\n\n\"I'll tell you what interests me very much,\" said Levin. \"He's right\nthat our system, that's to say of rational farming, doesn't answer, that\nthe only thing that answers is the money-lender system, like that\nmeek-looking gentleman's, or else the very simplest.... Whose fault is\nit?\"\n\n\"Our own, of course. Besides, it's not true that it doesn't answer. It\nanswers with Vassiltchikov.\"\n\n\"A factory...\"\n\n\"But I really don't know what it is you are surprised at. The people are\nat such a low stage of rational and moral development, that it's obvious\nthey're bound to oppose everything that's strange to them. In Europe, a\nrational system answers because the people are educated; it follows that\nwe must educate the people--that's all.\"\n\n\"But how are we to educate the people?\"\n\n\"To educate the people three things are needed: schools, and schools,\nand schools.\n\n\"But you said yourself the people are at such a low stage of material\ndevelopment: what help are schools for that?\"\n\n\"Do you know, you remind me of the story of the advice given to the sick\nman--You should try purgative medicine. Taken: worse. Try leeches. Tried\nthem: worse. Well, then, there's nothing left but to pray to God. Tried\nit: worse. That's just how it is with us. I say political economy; you\nsay--worse. I say socialism: worse. Education: worse.\"\n\n\"But how do schools help matters?\"\n\n\"They give the peasant fresh wants.\"\n\n\"Well, that's a thing I've never understood,\" Levin replied with heat.\n\"In what way are schools going to help the people to improve their\nmaterial position? You say schools, education, will give them fresh\nwants. So much the worse, since they won't be capable of satisfying\nthem. And in what way a knowledge of addition and subtraction and the\ncatechism is going to improve their material condition, I never could\nmake out. The day before yesterday, I met a peasant woman in the evening\nwith a little baby, and asked her where she was going. She said she was\ngoing to the wise woman; her boy had screaming fits, so she was taking\nhim to be doctored. I asked, 'Why, how does the wise woman cure\nscreaming fits?' 'She puts the child on the hen-roost and repeats some\ncharm....'\"\n\n\"Well, you're saying it yourself! What's wanted to prevent her taking\nher child to the hen-roost to cure it of screaming fits is just...\"\nSviazhsky said, smiling good-humoredly.\n\n\"Oh, no!\" said Levin with annoyance; \"that method of doctoring I merely\nmeant as a simile for doctoring the people with schools. The people are\npoor and ignorant--that we see as surely as the peasant woman sees the\nbaby is ill because it screams. But in what way this trouble of poverty\nand ignorance is to be cured by schools is as incomprehensible as how\nthe hen-roost affects the screaming. What has to be cured is what makes\nhim poor.\"\n\n\"Well, in that, at least, you're in agreement with Spencer, whom you\ndislike so much. He says, too, that education may be the consequence of\ngreater prosperity and comfort, of more frequent washing, as he says,\nbut not of being able to read and write...\"\n\n\"Well, then, I'm very glad--or the contrary, very sorry, that I'm in\nagreement with Spencer; only I've known it a long while. Schools can do\nno good; what will do good is an economic organization in which the\npeople will become richer, will have more leisure--and then there will\nbe schools.\"\n\n\"Still, all over Europe now schools are obligatory.\"\n\n\"And how far do you agree with Spencer yourself about it?\" asked Levin.\n\nBut there was a gleam of alarm in Sviazhsky's eyes, and he said smiling:\n\n\"No; that screaming story is positively capital! Did you really hear it\nyourself?\"\n\nLevin saw that he was not to discover the connection between this man's\nlife and his thoughts. Obviously he did not care in the least what his\nreasoning led him to; all he wanted was the process of reasoning. And he\ndid not like it when the process of reasoning brought him into a blind\nalley. That was the only thing he disliked, and avoided by changing the\nconversation to something agreeable and amusing.\n\nAll the impressions of the day, beginning with the impression made by\nthe old peasant, which served, as it were, as the fundamental basis of\nall the conceptions and ideas of the day, threw Levin into violent\nexcitement. This dear good Sviazhsky, keeping a stock of ideas simply\nfor social purposes, and obviously having some other principles hidden\nfrom Levin, while with the crowd, whose name is legion, he guided public\nopinion by ideas he did not share; that irascible country gentleman,\nperfectly correct in the conclusions that he had been worried into by\nlife, but wrong in his exasperation against a whole class, and that the\nbest class in Russia; his own dissatisfaction with the work he had been\ndoing, and the vague hope of finding a remedy for all this--all was\nblended in a sense of inward turmoil, and anticipation of some solution\nnear at hand.\n\nLeft alone in the room assigned him, lying on a spring mattress that\nyielded unexpectedly at every movement of his arm or his leg, Levin did\nnot fall asleep for a long while. Not one conversation with Sviazhsky,\nthough he had said a great deal that was clever, had interested Levin;\nbut the conclusions of the irascible landowner required consideration.\nLevin could not help recalling every word he had said, and in\nimagination amending his own replies.\n\n\"Yes, I ought to have said to him: You say that our husbandry does not\nanswer because the peasant hates improvements, and that they must be\nforced on him by authority. If no system of husbandry answered at all\nwithout these improvements, you would be quite right. But the only\nsystem that does answer is where laborer is working in accordance with\nhis habits, just as on the old peasant's land half-way here. Your and\nour general dissatisfaction with the system shows that either we are to\nblame or the laborers. We have gone our way--the European way--a long\nwhile, without asking ourselves about the qualities of our labor force.\nLet us try to look upon the labor force not as an abstract force, but as\nthe _Russian peasant_ with his instincts, and we shall arrange our\nsystem of culture in accordance with that. Imagine, I ought to have said\nto him, that you have the same system as the old peasant has, that you\nhave found means of making your laborers take an interest in the success\nof the work, and have found the happy mean in the way of improvements\nwhich they will admit, and you will, without exhausting the soil, get\ntwice or three times the yield you got before. Divide it in halves, give\nhalf as the share of labor, the surplus left you will be greater, and\nthe share of labor will be greater too. And to do this one must lower\nthe standard of husbandry and interest the laborers in its success. How\nto do this?--that's a matter of detail; but undoubtedly it can be done.\"\n\nThis idea threw Levin into a great excitement. He did not sleep half the\nnight, thinking over in detail the putting of his idea into practice. He\nhad not intended to go away next day, but he now determined to go home\nearly in the morning. Besides, the sister-in-law with her low-necked\nbodice aroused in him a feeling akin to shame and remorse for some\nutterly base action. Most important of all--he must get back without\ndelay: he would have to make haste to put his new project to the\npeasants before the sowing of the winter wheat, so that the sowing might\nbe undertaken on a new basis. He had made up his mind to revolutionize\nhis whole system.\n\n\n\nChapter 29\n\n\nThe carrying out of Levin's plan presented many difficulties; but he\nstruggled on, doing his utmost, and attained a result which, though not\nwhat he desired, was enough to enable him, without self-deception, to\nbelieve that the attempt was worth the trouble. One of the chief\ndifficulties was that the process of cultivating the land was in full\nswing, that it was impossible to stop everything and begin it all again\nfrom the beginning, and the machine had to be mended while in motion.\n\nWhen on the evening that he arrived home he informed the bailiff of his\nplans, the latter with visible pleasure agreed with what he said so long\nas he was pointing out that all that had been done up to that time was\nstupid and useless. The bailiff said that he had said so a long while\nago, but no heed had been paid him. But as for the proposal made by\nLevin--to take a part as shareholder with his laborers in each\nagricultural undertaking--at this the bailiff simply expressed a\nprofound despondency, and offered no definite opinion, but began\nimmediately talking of the urgent necessity of carrying the remaining\nsheaves of rye the next day, and of sending the men out for the second\nploughing, so that Levin felt that this was not the time for discussing\nit.\n\nOn beginning to talk to the peasants about it, and making a proposition\nto cede them the land on new terms, he came into collision with the same\ngreat difficulty that they were so much absorbed by the current work of\nthe day, that they had not time to consider the advantages and\ndisadvantages of the proposed scheme.\n\nThe simple-hearted Ivan, the cowherd, seemed completely to grasp Levin's\nproposal--that he should with his family take a share of the profits of\nthe cattle-yard--and he was in complete sympathy with the plan. But when\nLevin hinted at the future advantages, Ivan's face expressed alarm and\nregret that he could not hear all he had to say, and he made haste to\nfind himself some task that would admit of no delay: he either snatched\nup the fork to pitch the hay out of the pens, or ran to get water or to\nclear out the dung.\n\nAnother difficulty lay in the invincible disbelief of the peasant that a\nlandowner's object could be anything else than a desire to squeeze all\nhe could out of them. They were firmly convinced that his real aim\n(whatever he might say to them) would always be in what he did not say\nto them. And they themselves, in giving their opinion, said a great deal\nbut never said what was their real object. Moreover (Levin felt that the\nirascible landowner had been right) the peasants made their first and\nunalterable condition of any agreement whatever that they should not be\nforced to any new methods of tillage of any kind, nor to use new\nimplements. They agreed that the modern plough ploughed better, that the\nscarifier did the work more quickly, but they found thousands of reasons\nthat made it out of the question for them to use either of them; and\nthough he had accepted the conviction that he would have to lower the\nstandard of cultivation, he felt sorry to give up improved methods, the\nadvantages of which were so obvious. But in spite of all these\ndifficulties he got his way, and by autumn the system was working, or at\nleast so it seemed to him.\n\nAt first Levin had thought of giving up the whole farming of the land\njust as it was to the peasants, the laborers, and the bailiff on new\nconditions of partnership; but he was very soon convinced that this was\nimpossible, and determined to divide it up. The cattle-yard, the garden,\nhay fields, and arable land, divided into several parts, had to be made\ninto separate lots. The simple-hearted cowherd, Ivan, who, Levin\nfancied, understood the matter better than any of them, collecting\ntogether a gang of workers to help him, principally of his own family,\nbecame a partner in the cattle-yard. A distant part of the estate, a\ntract of waste land that had lain fallow for eight years, was with the\nhelp of the clever carpenter, Fyodor Ryezunov, taken by six families of\npeasants on new conditions of partnership, and the peasant Shuraev took\nthe management of all the vegetable gardens on the same terms. The\nremainder of the land was still worked on the old system, but these\nthree associated partnerships were the first step to a new organization\nof the whole, and they completely took up Levin's time.\n\nIt is true that in the cattle-yard things went no better than before,\nand Ivan strenuously opposed warm housing for the cows and butter made\nof fresh cream, affirming that cows require less food if kept cold, and\nthat butter is more profitable made from sour cream, and he asked for\nwages just as under the old system, and took not the slightest interest\nin the fact that the money he received was not wages but an advance out\nof his future share in the profits.\n\nIt is true that Fyodor Ryezunov's company did not plough over the ground\ntwice before sowing, as had been agreed, justifying themselves on the\nplea that the time was too short. It is true that the peasants of the\nsame company, though they had agreed to work the land on new conditions,\nalways spoke of the land, not as held in partnership, but as rented for\nhalf the crop, and more than once the peasants and Ryezunov himself said\nto Levin, \"If you would take a rent for the land, it would save you\ntrouble, and we should be more free.\" Moreover the same peasants kept\nputting off, on various excuses, the building of a cattleyard and barn\non the land as agreed upon, and delayed doing it till the winter.\n\nIt is true that Shuraev would have liked to let out the kitchen gardens\nhe had undertaken in small lots to the peasants. He evidently quite\nmisunderstood, and apparently intentionally misunderstood, the\nconditions upon which the land had been given to him.\n\nOften, too, talking to the peasants and explaining to them all the\nadvantages of the plan, Levin felt that the peasants heard nothing but\nthe sound of his voice, and were firmly resolved, whatever he might say,\nnot to let themselves be taken in. He felt this especially when he\ntalked to the cleverest of the peasants, Ryezunov, and detected the\ngleam in Ryezunov's eyes which showed so plainly both ironical amusement\nat Levin, and the firm conviction that, if any one were to be taken in,\nit would not be he, Ryezunov. But in spite of all this Levin thought the\nsystem worked, and that by keeping accounts strictly and insisting on\nhis own way, he would prove to them in the future the advantages of the\narrangement, and then the system would go of itself.\n\nThese matters, together with the management of the land still left on\nhis hands, and the indoor work over his book, so engrossed Levin the\nwhole summer that he scarcely ever went out shooting. At the end of\nAugust he heard that the Oblonskys had gone away to Moscow, from their\nservant who brought back the side-saddle. He felt that in not answering\nDarya Alexandrovna's letter he had by his rudeness, of which he could\nnot think without a flush of shame, burned his ships, and that he would\nnever go and see them again. He had been just as rude with the\nSviazhskys, leaving them without saying good-bye. But he would never go\nto see them again either. He did not care about that now. The business\nof reorganizing the farming of his land absorbed him as completely as\nthough there would never be anything else in his life. He read the books\nlent him by Sviazhsky, and copying out what he had not got, he read both\nthe economic and socialistic books on the subject, but, as he had\nanticipated, found nothing bearing on the scheme he had undertaken. In\nthe books on political economy--in Mill, for instance, whom he studied\nfirst with great ardor, hoping every minute to find an answer to the\nquestions that were engrossing him--he found laws deduced from the\ncondition of land culture in Europe; but he did not see why these laws,\nwhich did not apply in Russia, must be general. He saw just the same\nthing in the socialistic books: either they were the beautiful but\nimpracticable fantasies which had fascinated him when he was a student,\nor they were attempts at improving, rectifying the economic position in\nwhich Europe was placed, with which the system of land tenure in Russia\nhad nothing in common. Political economy told him that the laws by which\nthe wealth of Europe had been developed, and was developing, were\nuniversal and unvarying. Socialism told him that development along these\nlines leads to ruin. And neither of them gave an answer, or even a hint,\nin reply to the question what he, Levin, and all the Russian peasants\nand landowners, were to do with their millions of hands and millions of\nacres, to make them as productive as possible for the common weal.\n\nHaving once taken the subject up, he read conscientiously everything\nbearing on it, and intended in the autumn to go abroad to study land\nsystems on the spot, in order that he might not on this question be\nconfronted with what so often met him on various subjects. Often, just\nas he was beginning to understand the idea in the mind of anyone he was\ntalking to, and was beginning to explain his own, he would suddenly be\ntold: \"But Kauffmann, but Jones, but Dubois, but Michelli? You haven't\nread them: they've thrashed that question out thoroughly.\"\n\nHe saw now distinctly that Kauffmann and Michelli had nothing to tell\nhim. He knew what he wanted. He saw that Russia has splendid land,\nsplendid laborers, and that in certain cases, as at the peasant's on the\nway to Sviazhsky's, the produce raised by the laborers and the land is\ngreat--in the majority of cases when capital is applied in the European\nway the produce is small, and that this simply arises from the fact that\nthe laborers want to work and work well only in their own peculiar way,\nand that this antagonism is not incidental but invariable, and has its\nroots in the national spirit. He thought that the Russian people whose\ntask it was to colonize and cultivate vast tracts of unoccupied land,\nconsciously adhered, till all their land was occupied, to the methods\nsuitable to their purpose, and that their methods were by no means so\nbad as was generally supposed. And he wanted to prove this theoretically\nin his book and practically on his land.\n\n\n\nChapter 30\n\n\nAt the end of September the timber had been carted for building the\ncattleyard on the land that had been allotted to the association of\npeasants, and the butter from the cows was sold and the profits divided.\nIn practice the system worked capitally, or, at least, so it seemed to\nLevin. In order to work out the whole subject theoretically and to\ncomplete his book, which, in Levin's daydreams, was not merely to effect\na revolution in political economy, but to annihilate that science\nentirely and to lay the foundation of a new science of the relation of\nthe people to the soil, all that was left to do was to make a tour\nabroad, and to study on the spot all that had been done in the same\ndirection, and to collect conclusive evidence that all that had been\ndone there was not what was wanted. Levin was only waiting for the\ndelivery of his wheat to receive the money for it and go abroad. But the\nrains began, preventing the harvesting of the corn and potatoes left in\nthe fields, and putting a stop to all work, even to the delivery of the\nwheat.\n\nThe mud was impassable along the roads; two mills were carried away, and\nthe weather got worse and worse.\n\nOn the 30th of September the sun came out in the morning, and hoping for\nfine weather, Levin began making final preparations for his journey. He\ngave orders for the wheat to be delivered, sent the bailiff to the\nmerchant to get the money owing him, and went out himself to give some\nfinal directions on the estate before setting off.\n\nHaving finished all his business, soaked through with the streams of\nwater which kept running down the leather behind his neck and his\ngaiters, but in the keenest and most confident temper, Levin returned\nhomewards in the evening. The weather had become worse than ever towards\nevening; the hail lashed the drenched mare so cruelly that she went\nalong sideways, shaking her head and ears; but Levin was all right under\nhis hood, and he looked cheerfully about him at the muddy streams\nrunning under the wheels, at the drops hanging on every bare twig, at\nthe whiteness of the patch of unmelted hailstones on the planks of the\nbridge, at the thick layer of still juicy, fleshy leaves that lay heaped\nup about the stripped elm-tree. In spite of the gloominess of nature\naround him, he felt peculiarly eager. The talks he had been having with\nthe peasants in the further village had shown that they were beginning\nto get used to their new position. The old servant to whose hut he had\ngone to get dry evidently approved of Levin's plan, and of his own\naccord proposed to enter the partnership by the purchase of cattle.\n\n\"I have only to go stubbornly on towards my aim, and I shall attain my\nend,\" thought Levin; \"and it's something to work and take trouble for.\nThis is not a matter of myself individually; the question of the public\nwelfare comes into it. The whole system of culture, the chief element in\nthe condition of the people, must be completely transformed. Instead of\npoverty, general prosperity and content; instead of hostility, harmony\nand unity of interests. In short, a bloodless revolution, but a\nrevolution of the greatest magnitude, beginning in the little circle of\nour district, then the province, then Russia, the whole world. Because a\njust idea cannot but be fruitful. Yes, it's an aim worth working for.\nAnd its being me, Kostya Levin, who went to a ball in a black tie, and\nwas refused by the Shtcherbatskaya girl, and who was intrinsically such\na pitiful, worthless creature--that proves nothing; I feel sure Franklin\nfelt just as worthless, and he too had no faith in himself, thinking of\nhimself as a whole. That means nothing. And he too, most likely, had an\nAgafea Mihalovna to whom he confided his secrets.\"\n\nMusing on such thoughts Levin reached home in the darkness.\n\nThe bailiff, who had been to the merchant, had come back and brought\npart of the money for the wheat. An agreement had been made with the old\nservant, and on the road the bailiff had learned that everywhere the\ncorn was still standing in the fields, so that his one hundred and sixty\nshocks that had not been carried were nothing in comparison with the\nlosses of others.\n\nAfter dinner Levin was sitting, as he usually did, in an easy chair with\na book, and as he read he went on thinking of the journey before him in\nconnection with his book. Today all the significance of his book rose\nbefore him with special distinctness, and whole periods ranged\nthemselves in his mind in illustration of his theories. \"I must write\nthat down,\" he thought. \"That ought to form a brief introduction, which\nI thought unnecessary before.\" He got up to go to his writing table, and\nLaska, lying at his feet, got up too, stretching and looking at him as\nthough to inquire where to go. But he had not time to write it down, for\nthe head peasants had come round, and Levin went out into the hall to\nthem.\n\nAfter his levee, that is to say, giving directions about the labors of\nthe next day, and seeing all the peasants who had business with him,\nLevin went back to his study and sat down to work.\n\nLaska lay under the table; Agafea Mihalovna settled herself in her place\nwith her stocking.\n\nAfter writing for a little while, Levin suddenly thought with\nexceptional vividness of Kitty, her refusal, and their last meeting. He\ngot up and began walking about the room.\n\n\"What's the use of being dreary?\" said Agafea Mihalovna. \"Come, why do\nyou stay on at home? You ought to go to some warm springs, especially\nnow you're ready for the journey.\"\n\n\"Well, I am going away the day after tomorrow, Agafea Mihalovna; I must\nfinish my work.\"\n\n\"There, there, your work, you say! As if you hadn't done enough for the\npeasants! Why, as 'tis, they're saying, 'Your master will be getting\nsome honor from the Tsar for it.' Indeed and it is a strange thing; why\nneed you worry about the peasants?\"\n\n\"I'm not worrying about them; I'm doing it for my own good.\"\n\nAgafea Mihalovna knew every detail of Levin's plans for his land. Levin\noften put his views before her in all their complexity, and not\nuncommonly he argued with her and did not agree with her comments. But\non this occasion she entirely misinterpreted what he had said.\n\n\"Of one's soul's salvation we all know and must think before all else,\"\nshe said with a sigh. \"Parfen Denisitch now, for all he was no scholar,\nhe died a death that God grant every one of us the like,\" she said,\nreferring to a servant who had died recently. \"Took the sacrament and\nall.\"\n\n\"That's not what I mean,\" said he. \"I mean that I'm acting for my own\nadvantage. It's all the better for me if the peasants do their work\nbetter.\"\n\n\"Well, whatever you do, if he's a lazy good-for-nought, everything'll be\nat sixes and sevens. If he has a conscience, he'll work, and if not,\nthere's no doing anything.\"\n\n\"Oh, come, you say yourself Ivan has begun looking after the cattle\nbetter.\"\n\n\"All I say is,\" answered Agafea Mihalovna, evidently not speaking at\nrandom, but in strict sequence of idea, \"that you ought to get married,\nthat's what I say.\"\n\nAgafea Mihalovna's allusion to the very subject he had only just been\nthinking about, hurt and stung him. Levin scowled, and without answering\nher, he sat down again to his work, repeating to himself all that he had\nbeen thinking of the real significance of that work. Only at intervals\nhe listened in the stillness to the click of Agafea Mihalovna's needles,\nand recollecting what he did not want to remember, he frowned again.\n\nAt nine o'clock they heard the bell and the faint vibration of a\ncarriage over the mud.\n\n\"Well, here's visitors come to us, and you won't be dull,\" said Agafea\nMihalovna, getting up and going to the door. But Levin overtook her. His\nwork was not going well now, and he was glad of a visitor, whoever it\nmight be.\n\n\n\nChapter 31\n\n\nRunning halfway down the staircase, Levin caught a sound he knew, a\nfamiliar cough in the hall. But he heard it indistinctly through the\nsound of his own footsteps, and hoped he was mistaken. Then he caught\nsight of a long, bony, familiar figure, and now it seemed there was no\npossibility of mistake; and yet he still went on hoping that this tall\nman taking off his fur cloak and coughing was not his brother Nikolay.\n\nLevin loved his brother, but being with him was always a torture. Just\nnow, when Levin, under the influence of the thoughts that had come to\nhim, and Agafea Mihalovna's hint, was in a troubled and uncertain humor,\nthe meeting with his brother that he had to face seemed particularly\ndifficult. Instead of a lively, healthy visitor, some outsider who\nwould, he hoped, cheer him up in his uncertain humor, he had to see his\nbrother, who knew him through and through, who would call forth all the\nthoughts nearest his heart, would force him to show himself fully. And\nthat he was not disposed to do.\n\nAngry with himself for so base a feeling, Levin ran into the hall; as\nsoon as he had seen his brother close, this feeling of selfish\ndisappointment vanished instantly and was replaced by pity. Terrible as\nhis brother Nikolay had been before in his emaciation and sickliness,\nnow he looked still more emaciated, still more wasted. He was a skeleton\ncovered with skin.\n\nHe stood in the hall, jerking his long thin neck, and pulling the scarf\noff it, and smiled a strange and pitiful smile. When he saw that smile,\nsubmissive and humble, Levin felt something clutching at his throat.\n\n\"You see, I've come to you,\" said Nikolay in a thick voice, never for\none second taking his eyes off his brother's face. \"I've been meaning to\na long while, but I've been unwell all the time. Now I'm ever so much\nbetter,\" he said, rubbing his beard with his big thin hands.\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" answered Levin. And he felt still more frightened when,\nkissing him, he felt with his lips the dryness of his brother's skin and\nsaw close to him his big eyes, full of a strange light.\n\nA few weeks before, Konstantin Levin had written to his brother that\nthrough the sale of the small part of the property, that had remained\nundivided, there was a sum of about two thousand roubles to come to him\nas his share.\n\nNikolay said that he had come now to take this money and, what was more\nimportant, to stay a while in the old nest, to get in touch with the\nearth, so as to renew his strength like the heroes of old for the work\nthat lay before him. In spite of his exaggerated stoop, and the\nemaciation that was so striking from his height, his movements were as\nrapid and abrupt as ever. Levin led him into his study.\n\nHis brother dressed with particular care--a thing he never used to\ndo--combed his scanty, lank hair, and, smiling, went upstairs.\n\nHe was in the most affectionate and good-humored mood, just as Levin\noften remembered him in childhood. He even referred to Sergey Ivanovitch\nwithout rancor. When he saw Agafea Mihalovna, he made jokes with her and\nasked after the old servants. The news of the death of Parfen Denisitch\nmade a painful impression on him. A look of fear crossed his face, but\nhe regained his serenity immediately.\n\n\"Of course he was quite old,\" he said, and changed the subject. \"Well,\nI'll spend a month or two with you, and then I'm off to Moscow. Do you\nknow, Myakov has promised me a place there, and I'm going into the\nservice. Now I'm going to arrange my life quite differently,\" he went\non. \"You know I got rid of that woman.\"\n\n\"Marya Nikolaevna? Why, what for?\"\n\n\"Oh, she was a horrid woman! She caused me all sorts of worries.\" But he\ndid not say what the annoyances were. He could not say that he had cast\noff Marya Nikolaevna because the tea was weak, and, above all, because\nshe would look after him, as though he were an invalid.\n\n\"Besides, I want to turn over a new leaf completely now. I've done silly\nthings, of course, like everyone else, but money's the last\nconsideration; I don't regret it. So long as there's health, and my\nhealth, thank God, is quite restored.\"\n\nLevin listened and racked his brains, but could think of nothing to say.\nNikolay probably felt the same; he began questioning his brother about\nhis affairs; and Levin was glad to talk about himself, because then he\ncould speak without hypocrisy. He told his brother of his plans and his\ndoings.\n\nHis brother listened, but evidently he was not interested by it.\n\nThese two men were so akin, so near each other, that the slightest\ngesture, the tone of voice, told both more than could be said in words.\n\nBoth of them now had only one thought--the illness of Nikolay and the\nnearness of his death--which stifled all else. But neither of them dared\nto speak of it, and so whatever they said--not uttering the one thought\nthat filled their minds--was all falsehood. Never had Levin been so glad\nwhen the evening was over and it was time to go to bed. Never with any\noutside person, never on any official visit had he been so unnatural and\nfalse as he was that evening. And the consciousness of this\nunnaturalness, and the remorse he felt at it, made him even more\nunnatural. He wanted to weep over his dying, dearly loved brother, and\nhe had to listen and keep on talking of how he meant to live.\n\nAs the house was damp, and only one bedroom had been kept heated, Levin\nput his brother to sleep in his own bedroom behind a screen.\n\nHis brother got into bed, and whether he slept or did not sleep, tossed\nabout like a sick man, coughed, and when he could not get his throat\nclear, mumbled something. Sometimes when his breathing was painful, he\nsaid, \"Oh, my God!\" Sometimes when he was choking he muttered angrily,\n\"Ah, the devil!\" Levin could not sleep for a long while, hearing him.\nHis thoughts were of the most various, but the end of all his thoughts\nwas the same--death. Death, the inevitable end of all, for the first\ntime presented itself to him with irresistible force. And death, which\nwas here in this loved brother, groaning half asleep and from habit\ncalling without distinction on God and the devil, was not so remote as\nit had hitherto seemed to him. It was in himself too, he felt that. If\nnot today, tomorrow, if not tomorrow, in thirty years, wasn't it all the\nsame! And what was this inevitable death--he did not know, had never\nthought about it, and what was more, had not the power, had not the\ncourage to think about it.\n\n\"I work, I want to do something, but I had forgotten it must all end; I\nhad forgotten--death.\"\n\nHe sat on his bed in the darkness, crouched up, hugging his knees, and\nholding his breath from the strain of thought, he pondered. But the more\nintensely he thought, the clearer it became to him that it was\nindubitably so, that in reality, looking upon life, he had forgotten one\nlittle fact--that death will come, and all ends; that nothing was even\nworth beginning, and that there was no helping it anyway. Yes, it was\nawful, but it was so.\n\n\"But I am alive still. Now what's to be done? what's to be done?\" he\nsaid in despair. He lighted a candle, got up cautiously and went to the\nlooking-glass, and began looking at his face and hair. Yes, there were\ngray hairs about his temples. He opened his mouth. His back teeth were\nbeginning to decay. He bared his muscular arms. Yes, there was strength\nin them. But Nikolay, who lay there breathing with what was left of\nlungs, had had a strong, healthy body too. And suddenly he recalled how\nthey used to go to bed together as children, and how they only waited\ntill Fyodor Bogdanitch was out of the room to fling pillows at each\nother and laugh, laugh irrepressibly, so that even their awe of Fyodor\nBogdanitch could not check the effervescing, overbrimming sense of life\nand happiness. \"And now that bent, hollow chest ... and I, not knowing\nwhat will become of me, or wherefore...\"\n\n\"K...ha! K...ha! Damnation! Why do you keep fidgeting, why don't you go\nto sleep?\" his brother's voice called to him.\n\n\"Oh, I don't know, I'm not sleepy.\"\n\n\"I have had a good sleep, I'm not in a sweat now. Just see, feel my\nshirt; it's not wet, is it?\"\n\nLevin felt, withdrew behind the screen, and put out the candle, but for\na long while he could not sleep. The question how to live had hardly\nbegun to grow a little clearer to him, when a new, insoluble question\npresented itself--death.\n\n\"Why, he's dying--yes, he'll die in the spring, and how help him? What\ncan I say to him? What do I know about it? I'd even forgotten that it\nwas at all.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 32\n\n\nLevin had long before made the observation that when one is\nuncomfortable with people from their being excessively amenable and\nmeek, one is apt very soon after to find things intolerable from their\ntouchiness and irritability. He felt that this was how it would be with\nhis brother. And his brother Nikolay's gentleness did in fact not last\nout for long. The very next morning he began to be irritable, and seemed\ndoing his best to find fault with his brother, attacking him on his\ntenderest points.\n\nLevin felt himself to blame, and could not set things right. He felt\nthat if they had both not kept up appearances, but had spoken, as it is\ncalled, from the heart--that is to say, had said only just what they\nwere thinking and feeling--they would simply have looked into each\nother's faces, and Konstantin could only have said, \"You're dying,\nyou're dying!\" and Nikolay could only have answered, \"I know I'm dying,\nbut I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid!\" And they could have said\nnothing more, if they had said only what was in their hearts. But life\nlike that was impossible, and so Konstantin tried to do what he had been\ntrying to do all his life, and never could learn to do, though, as far\nas he could observe, many people knew so well how to do it, and without\nit there was no living at all. He tried to say what he was not thinking,\nbut he felt continually that it had a ring of falsehood, that his\nbrother detected him in it, and was exasperated at it.\n\nThe third day Nikolay induced his brother to explain his plan to him\nagain, and began not merely attacking it, but intentionally confounding\nit with communism.\n\n\"You've simply borrowed an idea that's not your own, but you've\ndistorted it, and are trying to apply it where it's not applicable.\"\n\n\"But I tell you it's nothing to do with it. They deny the justice of\nproperty, of capital, of inheritance, while I do not deny this chief\nstimulus.\" (Levin felt disgusted himself at using such expressions, but\never since he had been engrossed by his work, he had unconsciously come\nmore and more frequently to use words not Russian.) \"All I want is to\nregulate labor.\"\n\n\"Which means, you've borrowed an idea, stripped it of all that gave it\nits force, and want to make believe that it's something new,\" said\nNikolay, angrily tugging at his necktie.\n\n\"But my idea has nothing in common...\"\n\n\"That, anyway,\" said Nikolay Levin, with an ironical smile, his eyes\nflashing malignantly, \"has the charm of--what's one to call\nit?--geometrical symmetry, of clearness, of definiteness. It may be a\nUtopia. But if once one allows the possibility of making of all the past\na _tabula rasa_--no property, no family--then labor would organize\nitself. But you gain nothing...\"\n\n\"Why do you mix things up? I've never been a communist.\"\n\n\"But I have, and I consider it's premature, but rational, and it has a\nfuture, just like Christianity in its first ages.\"\n\n\"All that I maintain is that the labor force ought to be investigated\nfrom the point of view of natural science; that is to say, it ought to\nbe studied, its qualities ascertained...\"\n\n\"But that's utter waste of time. That force finds a certain form of\nactivity of itself, according to the stage of its development. There\nhave been slaves first everywhere, then metayers; and we have the\nhalf-crop system, rent, and day laborers. What are you trying to find?\"\n\nLevin suddenly lost his temper at these words, because at the bottom of\nhis heart he was afraid that it was true--true that he was trying to\nhold the balance even between communism and the familiar forms, and that\nthis was hardly possible.\n\n\"I am trying to find means of working productively for myself and for\nthe laborers. I want to organize...\" he answered hotly.\n\n\"You don't want to organize anything; it's simply just as you've been\nall your life, that you want to be original to pose as not exploiting\nthe peasants simply, but with some idea in view.\"\n\n\"Oh, all right, that's what you think--and let me alone!\" answered\nLevin, feeling the muscles of his left cheek twitching uncontrollably.\n\n\"You've never had, and never have, convictions; all you want is to\nplease your vanity.\"\n\n\"Oh, very well; then let me alone!\"\n\n\"And I will let you alone! and it's high time I did, and go to the devil\nwith you! and I'm very sorry I ever came!\"\n\nIn spite of all Levin's efforts to soothe his brother afterwards,\nNikolay would listen to nothing he said, declaring that it was better to\npart, and Konstantin saw that it simply was that life was unbearable to\nhim.\n\nNikolay was just getting ready to go, when Konstantin went in to him\nagain and begged him, rather unnaturally, to forgive him if he had hurt\nhis feelings in any way.\n\n\"Ah, generosity!\" said Nikolay, and he smiled. \"If you want to be right,\nI can give you that satisfaction. You're in the right; but I'm going all\nthe same.\"\n\nIt was only just at parting that Nikolay kissed him, and said, looking\nwith sudden strangeness and seriousness at his brother:\n\n\"Anyway, don't remember evil against me, Kostya!\" and his voice\nquivered. These were the only words that had been spoken sincerely\nbetween them. Levin knew that those words meant, \"You see, and you know,\nthat I'm in a bad way, and maybe we shall not see each other again.\"\nLevin knew this, and the tears gushed from his eyes. He kissed his\nbrother once more, but he could not speak, and knew not what to say.\n\nThree days after his brother's departure, Levin too set off for his\nforeign tour. Happening to meet Shtcherbatsky, Kitty's cousin, in the\nrailway train, Levin greatly astonished him by his depression.\n\n\"What's the matter with you?\" Shtcherbatsky asked him.\n\n\"Oh, nothing; there's not much happiness in life.\"\n\n\"Not much? You come with me to Paris instead of to Mulhausen. You shall\nsee how to be happy.\"\n\n\"No, I've done with it all. It's time I was dead.\"\n\n\"Well, that's a good one!\" said Shtcherbatsky, laughing; \"why, I'm only\njust getting ready to begin.\"\n\n\"Yes, I thought the same not long ago, but now I know I shall soon be\ndead.\"\n\nLevin said what he had genuinely been thinking of late. He saw nothing\nbut death or the advance towards death in everything. But his cherished\nscheme only engrossed him the more. Life had to be got through somehow\ntill death did come. Darkness had fallen upon everything for him; but\njust because of this darkness he felt that the one guiding clue in the\ndarkness was his work, and he clutched it and clung to it with all his\nstrength.\n\n\n\n\nPART FOUR\n\n\n\nChapter 1\n\n\nThe Karenins, husband and wife, continued living in the same house, met\nevery day, but were complete strangers to one another. Alexey\nAlexandrovitch made it a rule to see his wife every day, so that the\nservants might have no grounds for suppositions, but avoided dining at\nhome. Vronsky was never at Alexey Alexandrovitch's house, but Anna saw\nhim away from home, and her husband was aware of it.\n\nThe position was one of misery for all three; and not one of them would\nhave been equal to enduring this position for a single day, if it had\nnot been for the expectation that it would change, that it was merely a\ntemporary painful ordeal which would pass over. Alexey Alexandrovitch\nhoped that this passion would pass, as everything does pass, that\neveryone would forget about it, and his name would remain unsullied.\nAnna, on whom the position depended, and for whom it was more miserable\nthan for anyone, endured it because she not merely hoped, but firmly\nbelieved, that it would all very soon be settled and come right. She had\nnot the least idea what would settle the position, but she firmly\nbelieved that something would very soon turn up now. Vronsky, against\nhis own will or wishes, followed her lead, hoped too that something,\napart from his own action, would be sure to solve all difficulties.\n\nIn the middle of the winter Vronsky spent a very tiresome week. A\nforeign prince, who had come on a visit to Petersburg, was put under his\ncharge, and he had to show him the sights worth seeing. Vronsky was of\ndistinguished appearance; he possessed, moreover, the art of behaving\nwith respectful dignity, and was used to having to do with such grand\npersonages--that was how he came to be put in charge of the prince. But\nhe felt his duties very irksome. The prince was anxious to miss nothing\nof which he would be asked at home, had he seen that in Russia? And on\nhis own account he was anxious to enjoy to the utmost all Russian forms\nof amusement. Vronsky was obliged to be his guide in satisfying both\nthese inclinations. The mornings they spent driving to look at places of\ninterest; the evenings they passed enjoying the national entertainments.\nThe prince rejoiced in health exceptional even among princes. By\ngymnastics and careful attention to his health he had brought himself to\nsuch a point that in spite of his excess in pleasure he looked as fresh\nas a big glossy green Dutch cucumber. The prince had traveled a great\ndeal, and considered one of the chief advantages of modern facilities of\ncommunication was the accessibility of the pleasures of all nations.\n\nHe had been in Spain, and there had indulged in serenades and had made\nfriends with a Spanish girl who played the mandolin. In Switzerland he\nhad killed chamois. In England he had galloped in a red coat over hedges\nand killed two hundred pheasants for a bet. In Turkey he had got into a\nharem; in India he had hunted on an elephant, and now in Russia he\nwished to taste all the specially Russian forms of pleasure.\n\nVronsky, who was, as it were, chief master of the ceremonies to him, was\nat great pains to arrange all the Russian amusements suggested by\nvarious persons to the prince. They had race horses, and Russian\npancakes and bear hunts and three-horse sledges, and gypsies and\ndrinking feasts, with the Russian accompaniment of broken crockery. And\nthe prince with surprising ease fell in with the Russian spirit, smashed\ntrays full of crockery, sat with a gypsy girl on his knee, and seemed to\nbe asking--what more, and does the whole Russian spirit consist in just\nthis?\n\nIn reality, of all the Russian entertainments the prince liked best\nFrench actresses and ballet dancers and white-seal champagne. Vronsky\nwas used to princes, but, either because he had himself changed of late,\nor that he was in too close proximity to the prince, that week seemed\nfearfully wearisome to him. The whole of that week he experienced a\nsensation such as a man might have set in charge of a dangerous madman,\nafraid of the madman, and at the same time, from being with him, fearing\nfor his own reason. Vronsky was continually conscious of the necessity\nof never for a second relaxing the tone of stern official\nrespectfulness, that he might not himself be insulted. The prince's\nmanner of treating the very people who, to Vronsky's surprise, were\nready to descend to any depths to provide him with Russian amusements,\nwas contemptuous. His criticisms of Russian women, whom he wished to\nstudy, more than once made Vronsky crimson with indignation. The chief\nreason why the prince was so particularly disagreeable to Vronsky was\nthat he could not help seeing himself in him. And what he saw in this\nmirror did not gratify his self-esteem. He was a very stupid and very\nself-satisfied and very healthy and very well-washed man, and nothing\nelse. He was a gentleman--that was true, and Vronsky could not deny it.\nHe was equable and not cringing with his superiors, was free and\ningratiating in his behavior with his equals, and was contemptuously\nindulgent with his inferiors. Vronsky was himself the same, and regarded\nit as a great merit to be so. But for this prince he was an inferior,\nand his contemptuous and indulgent attitude to him revolted him.\n\n\"Brainless beef! can I be like that?\" he thought.\n\nBe that as it might, when, on the seventh day, he parted from the\nprince, who was starting for Moscow, and received his thanks, he was\nhappy to be rid of his uncomfortable position and the unpleasant\nreflection of himself. He said good-bye to him at the station on their\nreturn from a bear hunt, at which they had had a display of Russian\nprowess kept up all night.\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\n\nWhen he got home, Vronsky found there a note from Anna. She wrote, \"I am\nill and unhappy. I cannot come out, but I cannot go on longer without\nseeing you. Come in this evening. Alexey Alexandrovitch goes to the\ncouncil at seven and will be there till ten.\" Thinking for an instant of\nthe strangeness of her bidding him come straight to her, in spite of her\nhusband's insisting on her not receiving him, he decided to go.\n\nVronsky had that winter got his promotion, was now a colonel, had left\nthe regimental quarters, and was living alone. After having some lunch,\nhe lay down on the sofa immediately, and in five minutes memories of the\nhideous scenes he had witnessed during the last few days were confused\ntogether and joined on to a mental image of Anna and of the peasant who\nhad played an important part in the bear hunt, and Vronsky fell asleep.\nHe waked up in the dark, trembling with horror, and made haste to light\na candle. \"What was it? What? What was the dreadful thing I dreamed?\nYes, yes; I think a little dirty man with a disheveled beard was\nstooping down doing something, and all of a sudden he began saying some\nstrange words in French. Yes, there was nothing else in the dream,\" he\nsaid to himself. \"But why was it so awful?\" He vividly recalled the\npeasant again and those incomprehensible French words the peasant had\nuttered, and a chill of horror ran down his spine.\n\n\"What nonsense!\" thought Vronsky, and glanced at his watch.\n\nIt was half-past eight already. He rang up his servant, dressed in\nhaste, and went out onto the steps, completely forgetting the dream and\nonly worried at being late. As he drove up to the Karenins' entrance he\nlooked at his watch and saw it was ten minutes to nine. A high, narrow\ncarriage with a pair of grays was standing at the entrance. He\nrecognized Anna's carriage. \"She is coming to me,\" thought Vronsky, \"and\nbetter she should. I don't like going into that house. But no matter; I\ncan't hide myself,\" he thought, and with that manner peculiar to him\nfrom childhood, as of a man who has nothing to be ashamed of, Vronsky\ngot out of his sledge and went to the door. The door opened, and the\nhall porter with a rug on his arm called the carriage. Vronsky, though\nhe did not usually notice details, noticed at this moment the amazed\nexpression with which the porter glanced at him. In the very doorway\nVronsky almost ran up against Alexey Alexandrovitch. The gas jet threw\nits full light on the bloodless, sunken face under the black hat and on\nthe white cravat, brilliant against the beaver of the coat. Karenin's\nfixed, dull eyes were fastened upon Vronsky's face. Vronsky bowed, and\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, chewing his lips, lifted his hand to his hat and\nwent on. Vronsky saw him without looking round get into the carriage,\npick up the rug and the opera-glass at the window and disappear. Vronsky\nwent into the hall. His brows were scowling, and his eyes gleamed with a\nproud and angry light in them.\n\n\"What a position!\" he thought. \"If he would fight, would stand up for\nhis honor, I could act, could express my feelings; but this weakness or\nbaseness.... He puts me in the position of playing false, which I never\nmeant and never mean to do.\"\n\nVronsky's ideas had changed since the day of his conversation with Anna\nin the Vrede garden. Unconsciously yielding to the weakness of Anna--who\nhad surrendered herself up to him utterly, and simply looked to him to\ndecide her fate, ready to submit to anything--he had long ceased to\nthink that their tie might end as he had thought then. His ambitious\nplans had retreated into the background again, and feeling that he had\ngot out of that circle of activity in which everything was definite, he\nhad given himself entirely to his passion, and that passion was binding\nhim more and more closely to her.\n\nHe was still in the hall when he caught the sound of her retreating\nfootsteps. He knew she had been expecting him, had listened for him, and\nwas now going back to the drawing room.\n\n\"No,\" she cried, on seeing him, and at the first sound of her voice the\ntears came into her eyes. \"No; if things are to go on like this, the end\nwill come much, much too soon.\"\n\n\"What is it, dear one?\"\n\n\"What? I've been waiting in agony for an hour, two hours ... No, I won't\n... I can't quarrel with you. Of course you couldn't come. No, I won't.\"\nShe laid her two hands on his shoulders, and looked a long while at him\nwith a profound, passionate, and at the same time searching look. She\nwas studying his face to make up for the time she had not seen him. She\nwas, every time she saw him, making the picture of him in her\nimagination (incomparably superior, impossible in reality) fit with him\nas he really was.\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\n\n\"You met him?\" she asked, when they had sat down at the table in the\nlamplight. \"You're punished, you see, for being late.\"\n\n\"Yes; but how was it? Wasn't he to be at the council?\"\n\n\"He had been and come back, and was going out somewhere again. But\nthat's no matter. Don't talk about it. Where have you been? With the\nprince still?\"\n\nShe knew every detail of his existence. He was going to say that he had\nbeen up all night and had dropped asleep, but looking at her thrilled\nand rapturous face, he was ashamed. And he said he had had to go to\nreport on the prince's departure.\n\n\"But it's over now? He is gone?\"\n\n\"Thank God it's over! You wouldn't believe how insufferable it's been\nfor me.\"\n\n\"Why so? Isn't it the life all of you, all young men, always lead?\" she\nsaid, knitting her brows; and taking up the crochet work that was lying\non the table, she began drawing the hook out of it, without looking at\nVronsky.\n\n\"I gave that life up long ago,\" said he, wondering at the change in her\nface, and trying to divine its meaning. \"And I confess,\" he said, with a\nsmile, showing his thick, white teeth, \"this week I've been, as it were,\nlooking at myself in a glass, seeing that life, and I didn't like it.\"\n\nShe held the work in her hands, but did not crochet, and looked at him\nwith strange, shining, and hostile eyes.\n\n\"This morning Liza came to see me--they're not afraid to call on me, in\nspite of the Countess Lidia Ivanovna,\" she put in--\"and she told me\nabout your Athenian evening. How loathsome!\"\n\n\"I was just going to say...\"\n\nShe interrupted him. \"It was that Therese you used to know?\"\n\n\"I was just saying...\"\n\n\"How disgusting you are, you men! How is it you can't understand that a\nwoman can never forget that,\" she said, getting more and more angry, and\nso letting him see the cause of her irritation, \"especially a woman who\ncannot know your life? What do I know? What have I ever known?\" she\nsaid, \"what you tell me. And how do I know whether you tell me the\ntruth?...\"\n\n\"Anna, you hurt me. Don't you trust me? Haven't I told you that I\nhaven't a thought I wouldn't lay bare to you?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" she said, evidently trying to suppress her jealous thoughts.\n\"But if only you knew how wretched I am! I believe you, I believe\nyou.... What were you saying?\"\n\nBut he could not at once recall what he had been going to say. These\nfits of jealousy, which of late had been more and more frequent with\nher, horrified him, and however much he tried to disguise the fact, made\nhim feel cold to her, although he knew the cause of her jealousy was her\nlove for him. How often he had told himself that her love was happiness;\nand now she loved him as a woman can love when love has outweighed for\nher all the good things of life--and he was much further from happiness\nthan when he had followed her from Moscow. Then he had thought himself\nunhappy, but happiness was before him; now he felt that the best\nhappiness was already left behind. She was utterly unlike what she had\nbeen when he first saw her. Both morally and physically she had changed\nfor the worse. She had broadened out all over, and in her face at the\ntime when she was speaking of the actress there was an evil expression\nof hatred that distorted it. He looked at her as a man looks at a faded\nflower he has gathered, with difficulty recognizing in it the beauty for\nwhich he picked and ruined it. And in spite of this he felt that then,\nwhen his love was stronger, he could, if he had greatly wished it, have\ntorn that love out of his heart; but now, when as at that moment it\nseemed to him he felt no love for her, he knew that what bound him to\nher could not be broken.\n\n\"Well, well, what was it you were going to say about the prince? I have\ndriven away the fiend,\" she added. The fiend was the name they had given\nher jealousy. \"What did you begin to tell me about the prince? Why did\nyou find it so tiresome?\"\n\n\"Oh, it was intolerable!\" he said, trying to pick up the thread of his\ninterrupted thought. \"He does not improve on closer acquaintance. If you\nwant him defined, here he is: a prime, well-fed beast such as takes\nmedals at the cattle shows, and nothing more,\" he said, with a tone of\nvexation that interested her.\n\n\"No; how so?\" she replied. \"He's seen a great deal, anyway; he's\ncultured?\"\n\n\"It's an utterly different culture--their culture. He's cultivated, one\nsees, simply to be able to despise culture, as they despise everything\nbut animal pleasures.\"\n\n\"But don't you all care for these animal pleasures?\" she said, and again\nhe noticed a dark look in her eyes that avoided him.\n\n\"How is it you're defending him?\" he said, smiling.\n\n\"I'm not defending him, it's nothing to me; but I imagine, if you had\nnot cared for those pleasures yourself, you might have got out of them.\nBut if it affords you satisfaction to gaze at Therese in the attire of\nEve...\"\n\n\"Again, the devil again,\" Vronsky said, taking the hand she had laid on\nthe table and kissing it.\n\n\"Yes; but I can't help it. You don't know what I have suffered waiting\nfor you. I believe I'm not jealous. I'm not jealous: I believe you when\nyou're here; but when you're away somewhere leading your life, so\nincomprehensible to me...\"\n\nShe turned away from him, pulled the hook at last out of the crochet\nwork, and rapidly, with the help of her forefinger, began working loop\nafter loop of the wool that was dazzling white in the lamplight, while\nthe slender wrist moved swiftly, nervously in the embroidered cuff.\n\n\"How was it, then? Where did you meet Alexey Alexandrovitch?\" Her voice\nsounded in an unnatural and jarring tone.\n\n\"We ran up against each other in the doorway.\"\n\n\"And he bowed to you like this?\"\n\nShe drew a long face, and half-closing her eyes, quickly transformed her\nexpression, folded her hands, and Vronsky suddenly saw in her beautiful\nface the very expression with which Alexey Alexandrovitch had bowed to\nhim. He smiled, while she laughed gaily, with that sweet, deep laugh,\nwhich was one of her greatest charms.\n\n\"I don't understand him in the least,\" said Vronsky. \"If after your\navowal to him at your country house he had broken with you, if he had\ncalled me out--but this I can't understand. How can he put up with such\na position? He feels it, that's evident.\"\n\n\"He?\" she said sneeringly. \"He's perfectly satisfied.\"\n\n\"What are we all miserable for, when everything might be so happy?\"\n\n\"Only not he. Don't I know him, the falsity in which he's utterly\nsteeped?... Could one, with any feeling, live as he is living with me?\nHe understands nothing, and feels nothing. Could a man of any feeling\nlive in the same house with his unfaithful wife? Could he talk to her,\ncall her 'my dear'?\"\n\nAnd again she could not help mimicking him: \"'Anna, _ma chere_; Anna,\ndear'!\"\n\n\"He's not a man, not a human being--he's a doll! No one knows him; but I\nknow him. Oh, if I'd been in his place, I'd long ago have killed, have\ntorn to pieces a wife like me. I wouldn't have said, 'Anna, _ma chere_'!\nHe's not a man, he's an official machine. He doesn't understand that I'm\nyour wife, that he's outside, that he's superfluous.... Don't let's talk\nof him!...\"\n\n\"You're unfair, very unfair, dearest,\" said Vronsky, trying to soothe\nher. \"But never mind, don't let's talk of him. Tell me what you've been\ndoing? What is the matter? What has been wrong with you, and what did\nthe doctor say?\"\n\nShe looked at him with mocking amusement. Evidently she had hit on other\nabsurd and grotesque aspects in her husband and was awaiting the moment\nto give expression to them.\n\nBut he went on:\n\n\"I imagine that it's not illness, but your condition. When will it be?\"\n\nThe ironical light died away in her eyes, but a different smile, a\nconsciousness of something, he did not know what, and of quiet\nmelancholy, came over her face.\n\n\"Soon, soon. You say that our position is miserable, that we must put an\nend to it. If you knew how terrible it is to me, what I would give to be\nable to love you freely and boldly! I should not torture myself and\ntorture you with my jealousy.... And it will come soon, but not as we\nexpect.\"\n\nAnd at the thought of how it would come, she seemed so pitiable to\nherself that tears came into her eyes, and she could not go on. She laid\nher hand on his sleeve, dazzling and white with its rings in the\nlamplight.\n\n\"It won't come as we suppose. I didn't mean to say this to you, but\nyou've made me. Soon, soon, all will be over, and we shall all, all be\nat peace, and suffer no more.\"\n\n\"I don't understand,\" he said, understanding her.\n\n\"You asked when? Soon. And I shan't live through it. Don't interrupt\nme!\" and she made haste to speak. \"I know it; I know for certain. I\nshall die; and I'm very glad I shall die, and release myself and you.\"\n\nTears dropped from her eyes; he bent down over her hand and began\nkissing it, trying to hide his emotion, which, he knew, had no sort of\ngrounds, though he could not control it.\n\n\"Yes, it's better so,\" she said, tightly gripping his hand. \"That's the\nonly way, the only way left us.\"\n\nHe had recovered himself, and lifted his head.\n\n\"How absurd! What absurd nonsense you are talking!\"\n\n\"No, it's the truth.\"\n\n\"What, what's the truth?\"\n\n\"That I shall die. I have had a dream.\"\n\n\"A dream?\" repeated Vronsky, and instantly he recalled the peasant of\nhis dream.\n\n\"Yes, a dream,\" she said. \"It's a long while since I dreamed it. I\ndreamed that I ran into my bedroom, that I had to get something there,\nto find out something; you know how it is in dreams,\" she said, her eyes\nwide with horror; \"and in the bedroom, in the corner, stood something.\"\n\n\"Oh, what nonsense! How can you believe...\"\n\nBut she would not let him interrupt her. What she was saying was too\nimportant to her.\n\n\"And the something turned round, and I saw it was a peasant with a\ndisheveled beard, little, and dreadful looking. I wanted to run away,\nbut he bent down over a sack, and was fumbling there with his hands...\"\n\nShe showed how he had moved his hands. There was terror in her face. And\nVronsky, remembering his dream, felt the same terror filling his soul.\n\n\"He was fumbling and kept talking quickly, quickly in French, you know:\n_Il faut le battre, le fer, le brayer, le petrir_.... And in my horror I\ntried to wake up, and woke up ... but woke up in the dream. And I began\nasking myself what it meant. And Korney said to me: 'In childbirth\nyou'll die, ma'am, you'll die....' And I woke up.\"\n\n\"What nonsense, what nonsense!\" said Vronsky; but he felt himself that\nthere was no conviction in his voice.\n\n\"But don't let's talk of it. Ring the bell, I'll have tea. And stay a\nlittle now; it's not long I shall...\"\n\nBut all at once she stopped. The expression of her face instantaneously\nchanged. Horror and excitement were suddenly replaced by a look of soft,\nsolemn, blissful attention. He could not comprehend the meaning of the\nchange. She was listening to the stirring of the new life within her.\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, after meeting Vronsky on his own steps, drove, as\nhe had intended, to the Italian opera. He sat through two acts there,\nand saw everyone he had wanted to see. On returning home, he carefully\nscrutinized the hat stand, and noticing that there was not a military\novercoat there, he went, as usual, to his own room. But, contrary to his\nusual habit, he did not go to bed, he walked up and down his study till\nthree o'clock in the morning. The feeling of furious anger with his\nwife, who would not observe the proprieties and keep to the one\nstipulation he had laid on her, not to receive her lover in her own\nhome, gave him no peace. She had not complied with his request, and he\nwas bound to punish her and carry out his threat--obtain a divorce and\ntake away his son. He knew all the difficulties connected with this\ncourse, but he had said he would do it, and now he must carry out his\nthreat. Countess Lidia Ivanovna had hinted that this was the best way\nout of his position, and of late the obtaining of divorces had been\nbrought to such perfection that Alexey Alexandrovitch saw a possibility\nof overcoming the formal difficulties. Misfortunes never come singly,\nand the affairs of the reorganization of the native tribes, and of the\nirrigation of the lands of the Zaraisky province, had brought such\nofficial worries upon Alexey Alexandrovitch that he had been of late in\na continual condition of extreme irritability.\n\nHe did not sleep the whole night, and his fury, growing in a sort of\nvast, arithmetical progression, reached its highest limits in the\nmorning. He dressed in haste, and as though carrying his cup full of\nwrath, and fearing to spill any over, fearing to lose with his wrath the\nenergy necessary for the interview with his wife, he went into her room\ndirectly he heard she was up.\n\nAnna, who had thought she knew her husband so well, was amazed at his\nappearance when he went in to her. His brow was lowering, and his eyes\nstared darkly before him, avoiding her eyes; his mouth was tightly and\ncontemptuously shut. In his walk, in his gestures, in the sound of his\nvoice there was a determination and firmness such as his wife had never\nseen in him. He went into her room, and without greeting her, walked\nstraight up to her writing-table, and taking her keys, opened a drawer.\n\n\"What do you want?\" she cried.\n\n\"Your lover's letters,\" he said.\n\n\"They're not here,\" she said, shutting the drawer; but from that action\nhe saw he had guessed right, and roughly pushing away her hand, he\nquickly snatched a portfolio in which he knew she used to put her most\nimportant papers. She tried to pull the portfolio away, but he pushed\nher back.\n\n\"Sit down! I have to speak to you,\" he said, putting the portfolio under\nhis arm, and squeezing it so tightly with his elbow that his shoulder\nstood up. Amazed and intimidated, she gazed at him in silence.\n\n\"I told you that I would not allow you to receive your lover in this\nhouse.\"\n\n\"I had to see him to...\"\n\nShe stopped, not finding a reason.\n\n\"I do not enter into the details of why a woman wants to see her lover.\"\n\n\"I meant, I only...\" she said, flushing hotly. This coarseness of his\nangered her, and gave her courage. \"Surely you must feel how easy it is\nfor you to insult me?\" she said.\n\n\"An honest man and an honest woman may be insulted, but to tell a thief\nhe's a thief is simply _la constatation d'un fait_.\"\n\n\"This cruelty is something new I did not know in you.\"\n\n\"You call it cruelty for a husband to give his wife liberty, giving her\nthe honorable protection of his name, simply on the condition of\nobserving the proprieties: is that cruelty?\"\n\n\"It's worse than cruel--it's base, if you want to know!\" Anna cried, in\na rush of hatred, and getting up, she was going away.\n\n\"No!\" he shrieked, in his shrill voice, which pitched a note higher than\nusual even, and his big hands clutching her by the arm so violently that\nred marks were left from the bracelet he was squeezing, he forcibly sat\nher down in her place.\n\n\"Base! If you care to use that word, what is base is to forsake husband\nand child for a lover, while you eat your husband's bread!\"\n\nShe bowed her head. She did not say what she had said the evening before\nto her lover, that _he_ was her husband, and her husband was\nsuperfluous; she did not even think that. She felt all the justice of\nhis words, and only said softly:\n\n\"You cannot describe my position as worse than I feel it to be myself;\nbut what are you saying all this for?\"\n\n\"What am I saying it for? what for?\" he went on, as angrily. \"That you\nmay know that since you have not carried out my wishes in regard to\nobserving outward decorum, I will take measures to put an end to this\nstate of things.\"\n\n\"Soon, very soon, it will end, anyway,\" she said; and again, at the\nthought of death near at hand and now desired, tears came into her eyes.\n\n\"It will end sooner than you and your lover have planned! If you must\nhave the satisfaction of animal passion...\"\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch! I won't say it's not generous, but it's not like\na gentleman to strike anyone who's down.\"\n\n\"Yes, you only think of yourself! But the sufferings of a man who was\nyour husband have no interest for you. You don't care that his whole\nlife is ruined, that he is thuff ... thuff...\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch was speaking so quickly that he stammered, and was\nutterly unable to articulate the word \"suffering.\" In the end he\npronounced it \"thuffering.\" She wanted to laugh, and was immediately\nashamed that anything could amuse her at such a moment. And for the\nfirst time, for an instant, she felt for him, put herself in his place,\nand was sorry for him. But what could she say or do? Her head sank, and\nshe sat silent. He too was silent for some time, and then began speaking\nin a frigid, less shrill voice, emphasizing random words that had no\nspecial significance.\n\n\"I came to tell you...\" he said.\n\nShe glanced at him. \"No, it was my fancy,\" she thought, recalling the\nexpression of his face when he stumbled over the word \"suffering.\" \"No;\ncan a man with those dull eyes, with that self-satisfied complacency,\nfeel anything?\"\n\n\"I cannot change anything,\" she whispered.\n\n\"I have come to tell you that I am going tomorrow to Moscow, and shall\nnot return again to this house, and you will receive notice of what I\ndecide through the lawyer into whose hands I shall intrust the task of\ngetting a divorce. My son is going to my sister's,\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, with an effort recalling what he had meant to say about\nhis son.\n\n\"You take Seryozha to hurt me,\" she said, looking at him from under her\nbrows. \"You do not love him.... Leave me Seryozha!\"\n\n\"Yes, I have lost even my affection for my son, because he is associated\nwith the repulsion I feel for you. But still I shall take him. Goodbye!\"\n\nAnd he was going away, but now she detained him.\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch, leave me Seryozha!\" she whispered once more. \"I\nhave nothing else to say. Leave Seryozha till my ... I shall soon be\nconfined; leave him!\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch flew into a rage, and, snatching his hand from\nher, he went out of the room without a word.\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\n\nThe waiting-room of the celebrated Petersburg lawyer was full when\nAlexey Alexandrovitch entered it. Three ladies--an old lady, a young\nlady, and a merchant's wife--and three gentlemen--one a German banker\nwith a ring on his finger, the second a merchant with a beard, and the\nthird a wrathful-looking government clerk in official uniform, with a\ncross on his neck--had obviously been waiting a long while already. Two\nclerks were writing at tables with scratching pens. The appurtenances of\nthe writing-tables, about which Alexey Alexandrovitch was himself very\nfastidious, were exceptionally good. He could not help observing this.\nOne of the clerks, without getting up, turned wrathfully to Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, half closing his eyes. \"What are you wanting?\"\n\nHe replied that he had to see the lawyer on some business.\n\n\"He is engaged,\" the clerk responded severely, and he pointed with his\npen at the persons waiting, and went on writing.\n\n\"Can't he spare time to see me?\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"He has no time free; he is always busy. Kindly wait your turn.\"\n\n\"Then I must trouble you to give him my card,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch\nsaid with dignity, seeing the impossibility of preserving his incognito.\n\nThe clerk took the card and, obviously not approving of what he read on\nit, went to the door.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch was in principle in favor of the publicity of\nlegal proceedings, though for some higher official considerations he\ndisliked the application of the principle in Russia, and disapproved of\nit, as far as he could disapprove of anything instituted by authority of\nthe Emperor. His whole life had been spent in administrative work, and\nconsequently, when he did not approve of anything, his disapproval was\nsoftened by the recognition of the inevitability of mistakes and the\npossibility of reform in every department. In the new public law courts\nhe disliked the restrictions laid on the lawyers conducting cases. But\ntill then he had had nothing to do with the law courts, and so had\ndisapproved of their publicity simply in theory; now his disapprobation\nwas strengthened by the unpleasant impression made on him in the\nlawyer's waiting room.\n\n\"Coming immediately,\" said the clerk; and two minutes later there did\nactually appear in the doorway the large figure of an old solicitor who\nhad been consulting with the lawyer himself.\n\nThe lawyer was a little, squat, bald man, with a dark, reddish beard,\nlight-colored long eyebrows, and an overhanging brow. He was attired as\nthough for a wedding, from his cravat to his double watch-chain and\nvarnished boots. His face was clever and manly, but his dress was\ndandified and in bad taste.\n\n\"Pray walk in,\" said the lawyer, addressing Alexey Alexandrovitch; and,\ngloomily ushering Karenin in before him, he closed the door.\n\n\"Won't you sit down?\" He indicated an armchair at a writing table\ncovered with papers. He sat down himself, and, rubbing his little hands\nwith short fingers covered with white hairs, he bent his head on one\nside. But as soon as he was settled in this position a moth flew over\nthe table. The lawyer, with a swiftness that could never have been\nexpected of him, opened his hands, caught the moth, and resumed his\nformer attitude.\n\n\"Before beginning to speak of my business,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch,\nfollowing the lawyer's movements with wondering eyes, \"I ought to\nobserve that the business about which I have to speak to you is to be\nstrictly private.\"\n\nThe lawyer's overhanging reddish mustaches were parted in a scarcely\nperceptible smile.\n\n\"I should not be a lawyer if I could not keep the secrets confided to\nme. But if you would like proof...\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch glanced at his face, and saw that the shrewd, gray\neyes were laughing, and seemed to know all about it already.\n\n\"You know my name?\" Alexey Alexandrovitch resumed.\n\n\"I know you and the good\"--again he caught a moth--\"work you are doing,\nlike every Russian,\" said the lawyer, bowing.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch sighed, plucking up his courage. But having once\nmade up his mind he went on in his shrill voice, without timidity--or\nhesitation, accentuating here and there a word.\n\n\"I have the misfortune,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch began, \"to have been\ndeceived in my married life, and I desire to break off all relations\nwith my wife by legal means--that is, to be divorced, but to do this so\nthat my son may not remain with his mother.\"\n\nThe lawyer's gray eyes tried not to laugh, but they were dancing with\nirrepressible glee, and Alexey Alexandrovitch saw that it was not simply\nthe delight of a man who has just got a profitable job: there was\ntriumph and joy, there was a gleam like the malignant gleam he saw in\nhis wife's eyes.\n\n\"You desire my assistance in securing a divorce?\"\n\n\"Yes, precisely so; but I ought to warn you that I may be wasting your\ntime and attention. I have come simply to consult you as a preliminary\nstep. I want a divorce, but the form in which it is possible is of great\nconsequence to me. It is very possible that if that form does not\ncorrespond with my requirements I may give up a legal divorce.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's always the case,\" said the lawyer, \"and that's always for\nyou to decide.\"\n\nHe let his eyes rest on Alexey Alexandrovitch's feet, feeling that he\nmight offend his client by the sight of his irrepressible amusement. He\nlooked at a moth that flew before his nose, and moved his hands, but did\nnot catch it from regard for Alexey Alexandrovitch's position.\n\n\"Though in their general features our laws on this subject are known to\nme,\" pursued Alexey Alexandrovitch, \"I should be glad to have an idea of\nthe forms in which such things are done in practice.\"\n\n\"You would be glad,\" the lawyer, without lifting his eyes, responded,\nadopting, with a certain satisfaction, the tone of his client's remarks,\n\"for me to lay before you all the methods by which you could secure what\nyou desire?\"\n\nAnd on receiving an assuring nod from Alexey Alexandrovitch, he went on,\nstealing a glance now and then at Alexey Alexandrovitch's face, which\nwas growing red in patches.\n\n\"Divorce by our laws,\" he said, with a slight shade of disapprobation of\nour laws, \"is possible, as you are aware, in the following cases....\nWait a little!\" he called to a clerk who put his head in at the door,\nbut he got up all the same, said a few words to him, and sat down again.\n\"... In the following cases: physical defect in the married parties,\ndesertion without communication for five years,\" he said, crooking a\nshort finger covered with hair, \"adultery\" (this word he pronounced with\nobvious satisfaction), \"subdivided as follows\" (he continued to crook\nhis fat fingers, though the three cases and their subdivisions could\nobviously not be classified together): \"physical defect of the husband\nor of the wife, adultery of the husband or of the wife.\" As by now all\nhis fingers were used up, he uncrooked all his fingers and went on:\n\"This is the theoretical view; but I imagine you have done me the honor\nto apply to me in order to learn its application in practice. And\ntherefore, guided by precedents, I must inform you that in practice\ncases of divorce may all be reduced to the following--there's no\nphysical defect, I may assume, nor desertion?...\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch bowed his head in assent.\n\n\"--May be reduced to the following: adultery of one of the married\nparties, and the detection in the fact of the guilty party by mutual\nagreement, and failing such agreement, accidental detection. It must be\nadmitted that the latter case is rarely met with in practice,\" said the\nlawyer, and stealing a glance at Alexey Alexandrovitch he paused, as a\nman selling pistols, after enlarging on the advantages of each weapon,\nmight await his customer's choice. But Alexey Alexandrovitch said\nnothing, and therefore the lawyer went on: \"The most usual and simple,\nthe sensible course, I consider, is adultery by mutual consent. I should\nnot permit myself to express it so, speaking with a man of no\neducation,\" he said, \"but I imagine that to you this is comprehensible.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch was, however, so perturbed that he did not\nimmediately comprehend all the good sense of adultery by mutual consent,\nand his eyes expressed this uncertainty; but the lawyer promptly came to\nhis assistance.\n\n\"People cannot go on living together--here you have a fact. And if both\nare agreed about it, the details and formalities become a matter of no\nimportance. And at the same time this is the simplest and most certain\nmethod.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch fully understood now. But he had religious\nscruples, which hindered the execution of such a plan.\n\n\"That is out of the question in the present case,\" he said. \"Only one\nalternative is possible: undesigned detection, supported by letters\nwhich I have.\"\n\nAt the mention of letters the lawyer pursed up his lips, and gave\nutterance to a thin little compassionate and contemptuous sound.\n\n\"Kindly consider,\" he began, \"cases of that kind are, as you are aware,\nunder ecclesiastical jurisdiction; the reverend fathers are fond of\ngoing into the minutest details in cases of that kind,\" he said with a\nsmile, which betrayed his sympathy with the reverend fathers' taste.\n\"Letters may, of course, be a partial confirmation; but detection in the\nfact there must be of the most direct kind, that is, by eyewitnesses. In\nfact, if you do me the honor to intrust your confidence to me, you will\ndo well to leave me the choice of the measures to be employed. If one\nwants the result, one must admit the means.\"\n\n\"If it is so...\" Alexey Alexandrovitch began, suddenly turning white;\nbut at that moment the lawyer rose and again went to the door to speak\nto the intruding clerk.\n\n\"Tell her we don't haggle over fees!\" he said, and returned to Alexey\nAlexandrovitch.\n\nOn his way back he caught unobserved another moth. \"Nice state my rep\ncurtains will be in by the summer!\" he thought, frowning.\n\n\"And so you were saying?...\" he said.\n\n\"I will communicate my decision to you by letter,\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, getting up, and he clutched at the table. After standing\na moment in silence, he said: \"From your words I may consequently\nconclude that a divorce may be obtained? I would ask you to let me know\nwhat are your terms.\"\n\n\"It may be obtained if you give me complete liberty of action,\" said the\nlawyer, not answering his question. \"When can I reckon on receiving\ninformation from you?\" he asked, moving towards the door, his eyes and\nhis varnished boots shining.\n\n\"In a week's time. Your answer as to whether you will undertake to\nconduct the case, and on what terms, you will be so good as to\ncommunicate to me.\"\n\n\"Very good.\"\n\nThe lawyer bowed respectfully, let his client out of the door, and, left\nalone, gave himself up to his sense of amusement. He felt so mirthful\nthat, contrary to his rules, he made a reduction in his terms to the\nhaggling lady, and gave up catching moths, finally deciding that next\nwinter he must have the furniture covered with velvet, like Sigonin's.\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch had gained a brilliant victory at the sitting of\nthe Commission of the 17th of August, but in the sequel this victory cut\nthe ground from under his feet. The new commission for the inquiry into\nthe condition of the native tribes in all its branches had been formed\nand despatched to its destination with an unusual speed and energy\ninspired by Alexey Alexandrovitch. Within three months a report was\npresented. The condition of the native tribes was investigated in its\npolitical, administrative, economic, ethnographic, material, and\nreligious aspects. To all these questions there were answers admirably\nstated, and answers admitting no shade of doubt, since they were not a\nproduct of human thought, always liable to error, but were all the\nproduct of official activity. The answers were all based on official\ndata furnished by governors and heads of churches, and founded on the\nreports of district magistrates and ecclesiastical superintendents,\nfounded in their turn on the reports of parochial overseers and parish\npriests; and so all of these answers were unhesitating and certain. All\nsuch questions as, for instance, of the cause of failure of crops, of\nthe adherence of certain tribes to their ancient beliefs,\netc.--questions which, but for the convenient intervention of the\nofficial machine, are not, and cannot be solved for ages--received full,\nunhesitating solution. And this solution was in favor of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's contention. But Stremov, who had felt stung to the\nquick at the last sitting, had, on the reception of the commission's\nreport, resorted to tactics which Alexey Alexandrovitch had not\nanticipated. Stremov, carrying with him several members, went over to\nAlexey Alexandrovitch's side, and not contenting himself with warmly\ndefending the measure proposed by Karenin, proposed other more extreme\nmeasures in the same direction. These measures, still further\nexaggerated in opposition to what was Alexey Alexandrovitch's\nfundamental idea, were passed by the commission, and then the aim of\nStremov's tactics became apparent. Carried to an extreme, the measures\nseemed at once to be so absurd that the highest authorities, and public\nopinion, and intellectual ladies, and the newspapers, all at the same\ntime fell foul of them, expressing their indignation both with the\nmeasures and their nominal father, Alexey Alexandrovitch. Stremov drew\nback, affecting to have blindly followed Karenin, and to be astounded\nand distressed at what had been done. This meant the defeat of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch. But in spite of failing health, in spite of his domestic\ngriefs, he did not give in. There was a split in the commission. Some\nmembers, with Stremov at their head, justified their mistake on the\nground that they had put faith in the commission of revision, instituted\nby Alexey Alexandrovitch, and maintained that the report of the\ncommission was rubbish, and simply so much waste paper. Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, with a following of those who saw the danger of so\nrevolutionary an attitude to official documents, persisted in upholding\nthe statements obtained by the revising commission. In consequence of\nthis, in the higher spheres, and even in society, all was chaos, and\nalthough everyone was interested, no one could tell whether the native\ntribes really were becoming impoverished and ruined, or whether they\nwere in a flourishing condition. The position of Alexey Alexandrovitch,\nowing to this, and partly owing to the contempt lavished on him for his\nwife's infidelity, became very precarious. And in this position he took\nan important resolution. To the astonishment of the commission, he\nannounced that he should ask permission to go himself to investigate the\nquestion on the spot. And having obtained permission, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch prepared to set off to these remote provinces.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch's departure made a great sensation, the more so as\njust before he started he officially returned the posting-fares allowed\nhim for twelve horses, to drive to his destination.\n\n\"I think it very noble,\" Betsy said about this to the Princess Myakaya.\n\"Why take money for posting-horses when everyone knows that there are\nrailways everywhere now?\"\n\nBut Princess Myakaya did not agree, and the Princess Tverskaya's opinion\nannoyed her indeed.\n\n\"It's all very well for you to talk,\" said she, \"when you have I don't\nknow how many millions; but I am very glad when my husband goes on a\nrevising tour in the summer. It's very good for him and pleasant\ntraveling about, and it's a settled arrangement for me to keep a\ncarriage and coachman on the money.\"\n\nOn his way to the remote provinces Alexey Alexandrovitch stopped for\nthree days at Moscow.\n\nThe day after his arrival he was driving back from calling on the\ngovernor-general. At the crossroads by Gazetoy Place, where there are\nalways crowds of carriages and sledges, Alexey Alexandrovitch suddenly\nheard his name called out in such a loud and cheerful voice that he\ncould not help looking round. At the corner of the pavement, in a short,\nstylish overcoat and a low-crowned fashionable hat, jauntily askew, with\na smile that showed a gleam of white teeth and red lips, stood Stepan\nArkadyevitch, radiant, young, and beaming. He called him vigorously and\nurgently, and insisted on his stopping. He had one arm on the window of\na carriage that was stopping at the corner, and out of the window were\nthrust the heads of a lady in a velvet hat, and two children. Stepan\nArkadyevitch was smiling and beckoning to his brother-in-law. The lady\nsmiled a kindly smile too, and she too waved her hand to Alexey\nAlexandrovitch. It was Dolly with her children.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch did not want to see anyone in Moscow, and least of\nall his wife's brother. He raised his hat and would have driven on, but\nStepan Arkadyevitch told his coachman to stop, and ran across the snow\nto him.\n\n\"Well, what a shame not to have let us know! Been here long? I was at\nDussot's yesterday and saw 'Karenin' on the visitors' list, but it never\nentered my head that it was you,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, sticking his\nhead in at the window of the carriage, \"or I should have looked you up.\nI am glad to see you!\" he said, knocking one foot against the other to\nshake the snow off. \"What a shame of you not to let us know!\" he\nrepeated.\n\n\"I had no time; I am very busy,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch responded dryly.\n\n\"Come to my wife, she does so want to see you.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch unfolded the rug in which his frozen feet were\nwrapped, and getting out of his carriage made his way over the snow to\nDarya Alexandrovna.\n\n\"Why, Alexey Alexandrovitch, what are you cutting us like this for?\"\nsaid Dolly, smiling.\n\n\"I was very busy. Delighted to see you!\" he said in a tone clearly\nindicating that he was annoyed by it. \"How are you?\"\n\n\"Tell me, how is my darling Anna?\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch mumbled something and would have gone on. But\nStepan Arkadyevitch stopped him.\n\n\"I tell you what we'll do tomorrow. Dolly, ask him to dinner. We'll ask\nKoznishev and Pestsov, so as to entertain him with our Moscow\ncelebrities.\"\n\n\"Yes, please, do come,\" said Dolly; \"we will expect you at five, or six\no'clock, if you like. How is my darling Anna? How long...\"\n\n\"She is quite well,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch mumbled, frowning.\n\"Delighted!\" and he moved away towards his carriage.\n\n\"You will come?\" Dolly called after him.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch said something which Dolly could not catch in the\nnoise of the moving carriages.\n\n\"I shall come round tomorrow!\" Stepan Arkadyevitch shouted to him.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch got into his carriage, and buried himself in it so\nas neither to see nor be seen.\n\n\"Queer fish!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch to his wife, and glancing at his\nwatch, he made a motion of his hand before his face, indicating a caress\nto his wife and children, and walked jauntily along the pavement.\n\n\"Stiva! Stiva!\" Dolly called, reddening.\n\nHe turned round.\n\n\"I must get coats, you know, for Grisha and Tanya. Give me the money.\"\n\n\"Never mind; you tell them I'll pay the bill!\" and he vanished, nodding\ngenially to an acquaintance who drove by.\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\n\nThe next day was Sunday. Stepan Arkadyevitch went to the Grand Theater\nto a rehearsal of the ballet, and gave Masha Tchibisova, a pretty\ndancing-girl whom he had just taken under his protection, the coral\nnecklace he had promised her the evening before, and behind the scenes\nin the dim daylight of the theater, managed to kiss her pretty little\nface, radiant over her present. Besides the gift of the necklace he\nwanted to arrange with her about meeting after the ballet. After\nexplaining that he could not come at the beginning of the ballet, he\npromised he would come for the last act and take her to supper. From the\ntheater Stepan Arkadyevitch drove to Ohotny Row, selected himself the\nfish and asparagus for dinner, and by twelve o'clock was at Dussot's,\nwhere he had to see three people, luckily all staying at the same hotel:\nLevin, who had recently come back from abroad and was staying there; the\nnew head of his department, who had just been promoted to that position,\nand had come on a tour of revision to Moscow; and his brother-in-law,\nKarenin, whom he must see, so as to be sure of bringing him to dinner.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch liked dining, but still better he liked to give a\ndinner, small, but very choice, both as regards the food and drink and\nas regards the selection of guests. He particularly liked the program of\nthat day's dinner. There would be fresh perch, asparagus, and _la piece\nde resistance_--first-rate, but quite plain, roast beef, and wines to\nsuit: so much for the eating and drinking. Kitty and Levin would be of\nthe party, and that this might not be obtrusively evident, there would\nbe a girl cousin too, and young Shtcherbatsky, and _la piece de\nresistance_ among the guests--Sergey Koznishev and Alexey\nAlexandrovitch. Sergey Ivanovitch was a Moscow man, and a philosopher;\nAlexey Alexandrovitch a Petersburger, and a practical politician. He was\nasking, too, the well-known eccentric enthusiast, Pestsov, a liberal, a\ngreat talker, a musician, an historian, and the most delightfully\nyouthful person of fifty, who would be a sauce or garnish for Koznishev\nand Karenin. He would provoke them and set them off.\n\nThe second installment for the forest had been received from the\nmerchant and was not yet exhausted; Dolly had been very amiable and\ngoodhumored of late, and the idea of the dinner pleased Stepan\nArkadyevitch from every point of view. He was in the most light-hearted\nmood. There were two circumstances a little unpleasant, but these two\ncircumstances were drowned in the sea of good-humored gaiety which\nflooded the soul of Stepan Arkadyevitch. These two circumstances were:\nfirst, that on meeting Alexey Alexandrovitch the day before in the\nstreet he had noticed that he was cold and reserved with him, and\nputting the expression of Alexey Alexandrovitch's face and the fact that\nhe had not come to see them or let them know of his arrival with the\nrumors he had heard about Anna and Vronsky, Stepan Arkadyevitch guessed\nthat something was wrong between the husband and wife.\n\nThat was one disagreeable thing. The other slightly disagreeable fact\nwas that the new head of his department, like all new heads, had the\nreputation already of a terrible person, who got up at six o'clock in\nthe morning, worked like a horse, and insisted on his subordinates\nworking in the same way. Moreover, this new head had the further\nreputation of being a bear in his manners, and was, according to all\nreports, a man of a class in all respects the opposite of that to which\nhis predecessor had belonged, and to which Stepan Arkadyevitch had\nhitherto belonged himself. On the previous day Stepan Arkadyevitch had\nappeared at the office in a uniform, and the new chief had been very\naffable and had talked to him as to an acquaintance. Consequently Stepan\nArkadyevitch deemed it his duty to call upon him in his non-official\ndress. The thought that the new chief might not tender him a warm\nreception was the other unpleasant thing. But Stepan Arkadyevitch\ninstinctively felt that everything would _come round_ all right.\n\"They're all people, all men, like us poor sinners; why be nasty and\nquarrelsome?\" he thought as he went into the hotel.\n\n\"Good-day, Vassily,\" he said, walking into the corridor with his hat\ncocked on one side, and addressing a footman he knew; \"why, you've let\nyour whiskers grow! Levin, number seven, eh? Take me up, please. And\nfind out whether Count Anitchkin\" (this was the new head) \"is\nreceiving.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" Vassily responded, smiling. \"You've not been to see us for a\nlong while.\"\n\n\"I was here yesterday, but at the other entrance. Is this number seven?\"\n\nLevin was standing with a peasant from Tver in the middle of the room,\nmeasuring a fresh bearskin, when Stepan Arkadyevitch went in.\n\n\"What! you killed him?\" cried Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"Well done! A\nshe-bear? How are you, Arhip!\"\n\nHe shook hands with the peasant and sat down on the edge of a chair,\nwithout taking off his coat and hat.\n\n\"Come, take off your coat and stay a little,\" said Levin, taking his\nhat.\n\n\"No, I haven't time; I've only looked in for a tiny second,\" answered\nStepan Arkadyevitch. He threw open his coat, but afterwards did take it\noff, and sat on for a whole hour, talking to Levin about hunting and the\nmost intimate subjects.\n\n\"Come, tell me, please, what you did abroad? Where have you been?\" said\nStepan Arkadyevitch, when the peasant had gone.\n\n\"Oh, I stayed in Germany, in Prussia, in France, and in England--not in\nthe capitals, but in the manufacturing towns, and saw a great deal that\nwas new to me. And I'm glad I went.\"\n\n\"Yes, I knew your idea of the solution of the labor question.\"\n\n\"Not a bit: in Russia there can be no labor question. In Russia the\nquestion is that of the relation of the working people to the land;\nthough the question exists there too--but there it's a matter of\nrepairing what's been ruined, while with us...\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch listened attentively to Levin.\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" he said, \"it's very possible you're right. But I'm glad\nyou're in good spirits, and are hunting bears, and working, and\ninterested. Shtcherbatsky told me another story--he met you--that you\nwere in such a depressed state, talking of nothing but death....\"\n\n\"Well, what of it? I've not given up thinking of death,\" said Levin.\n\"It's true that it's high time I was dead; and that all this is\nnonsense. It's the truth I'm telling you. I do value my idea and my work\nawfully; but in reality only consider this: all this world of ours is\nnothing but a speck of mildew, which has grown up on a tiny planet. And\nfor us to suppose we can have something great--ideas, work--it's all\ndust and ashes.\"\n\n\"But all that's as old as the hills, my boy!\"\n\n\"It is old; but do you know, when you grasp this fully, then somehow\neverything becomes of no consequence. When you understand that you will\ndie tomorrow, if not today, and nothing will be left, then everything is\nso unimportant! And I consider my idea very important, but it turns out\nreally to be as unimportant too, even if it were carried out, as doing\nfor that bear. So one goes on living, amusing oneself with hunting, with\nwork--anything so as not to think of death!\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch smiled a subtle affectionate smile as he listened to\nLevin.\n\n\"Well, of course! Here you've come round to my point. Do you remember\nyou attacked me for seeking enjoyment in life? Don't be so severe, O\nmoralist!\"\n\n\"No; all the same, what's fine in life is...\" Levin hesitated--\"oh, I\ndon't know. All I know is that we shall soon be dead.\"\n\n\"Why so soon?\"\n\n\"And do you know, there's less charm in life, when one thinks of death,\nbut there's more peace.\"\n\n\"On the contrary, the finish is always the best. But I must be going,\"\nsaid Stepan Arkadyevitch, getting up for the tenth time.\n\n\"Oh, no, stay a bit!\" said Levin, keeping him. \"Now, when shall we see\neach other again? I'm going tomorrow.\"\n\n\"I'm a nice person! Why, that's just what I came for! You simply must\ncome to dinner with us today. Your brother's coming, and Karenin, my\nbrother-in-law.\"\n\n\"You don't mean to say he's here?\" said Levin, and he wanted to inquire\nabout Kitty. He had heard at the beginning of the winter that she was at\nPetersburg with her sister, the wife of the diplomat, and he did not\nknow whether she had come back or not; but he changed his mind and did\nnot ask. \"Whether she's coming or not, I don't care,\" he said to\nhimself.\n\n\"So you'll come?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"At five o'clock, then, and not evening dress.\"\n\nAnd Stepan Arkadyevitch got up and went down below to the new head of\nhis department. Instinct had not misled Stepan Arkadyevitch. The\nterrible new head turned out to be an extremely amenable person, and\nStepan Arkadyevitch lunched with him and stayed on, so that it was four\no'clock before he got to Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, on coming back from church service, had spent the\nwhole morning indoors. He had two pieces of business before him that\nmorning; first, to receive and send on a deputation from the native\ntribes which was on its way to Petersburg, and now at Moscow; secondly,\nto write the promised letter to the lawyer. The deputation, though it\nhad been summoned at Alexey Alexandrovitch's instigation, was not\nwithout its discomforting and even dangerous aspect, and he was glad he\nhad found it in Moscow. The members of this deputation had not the\nslightest conception of their duty and the part they were to play. They\nnaively believed that it was their business to lay before the commission\ntheir needs and the actual condition of things, and to ask assistance of\nthe government, and utterly failed to grasp that some of their\nstatements and requests supported the contention of the enemy's side,\nand so spoiled the whole business. Alexey Alexandrovitch was busily\nengaged with them for a long while, drew up a program for them from\nwhich they were not to depart, and on dismissing them wrote a letter to\nPetersburg for the guidance of the deputation. He had his chief support\nin this affair in the Countess Lidia Ivanovna. She was a specialist in\nthe matter of deputations, and no one knew better than she how to manage\nthem, and put them in the way they should go. Having completed this\ntask, Alexey Alexandrovitch wrote the letter to the lawyer. Without the\nslightest hesitation he gave him permission to act as he might judge\nbest. In the letter he enclosed three of Vronsky's notes to Anna, which\nwere in the portfolio he had taken away.\n\nSince Alexey Alexandrovitch had left home with the intention of not\nreturning to his family again, and since he had been at the lawyer's and\nhad spoken, though only to one man, of his intention, since especially\nhe had translated the matter from the world of real life to the world of\nink and paper, he had grown more and more used to his own intention, and\nby now distinctly perceived the feasibility of its execution.\n\nHe was sealing the envelope to the lawyer, when he heard the loud tones\nof Stepan Arkadyevitch's voice. Stepan Arkadyevitch was disputing with\nAlexey Alexandrovitch's servant, and insisting on being announced.\n\n\"No matter,\" thought Alexey Alexandrovitch, \"so much the better. I will\ninform him at once of my position in regard to his sister, and explain\nwhy it is I can't dine with him.\"\n\n\"Come in!\" he said aloud, collecting his papers, and putting them in the\nblotting-paper.\n\n\"There, you see, you're talking nonsense, and he's at home!\" responded\nStepan Arkadyevitch's voice, addressing the servant, who had refused to\nlet him in, and taking off his coat as he went, Oblonsky walked into the\nroom. \"Well, I'm awfully glad I've found you! So I hope...\" Stepan\nArkadyevitch began cheerfully.\n\n\"I cannot come,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch said coldly, standing and not\nasking his visitor to sit down.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch had thought to pass at once into those frigid\nrelations in which he ought to stand with the brother of a wife against\nwhom he was beginning a suit for divorce. But he had not taken into\naccount the ocean of kindliness brimming over in the heart of Stepan\nArkadyevitch.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch opened wide his clear, shining eyes.\n\n\"Why can't you? What do you mean?\" he asked in perplexity, speaking in\nFrench. \"Oh, but it's a promise. And we're all counting on you.\"\n\n\"I want to tell you that I can't dine at your house, because the terms\nof relationship which have existed between us must cease.\"\n\n\"How? How do you mean? What for?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch with a smile.\n\n\"Because I am beginning an action for divorce against your sister, my\nwife. I ought to have...\"\n\nBut, before Alexey Alexandrovitch had time to finish his sentence,\nStepan Arkadyevitch was behaving not at all as he had expected. He\ngroaned and sank into an armchair.\n\n\"No, Alexey Alexandrovitch! What are you saying?\" cried Oblonsky, and\nhis suffering was apparent in his face.\n\n\"It is so.\"\n\n\"Excuse me, I can't, I can't believe it!\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch sat down, feeling that his words had not had the\neffect he anticipated, and that it would be unavoidable for him to\nexplain his position, and that, whatever explanations he might make, his\nrelations with his brother-in-law would remain unchanged.\n\n\"Yes, I am brought to the painful necessity of seeking a divorce,\" he\nsaid.\n\n\"I will say one thing, Alexey Alexandrovitch. I know you for an\nexcellent, upright man; I know Anna--excuse me, I can't change my\nopinion of her--for a good, an excellent woman; and so, excuse me, I\ncannot believe it. There is some misunderstanding,\" said he.\n\n\"Oh, if it were merely a misunderstanding!...\"\n\n\"Pardon, I understand,\" interposed Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"But of\ncourse.... One thing: you must not act in haste. You must not, you must\nnot act in haste!\"\n\n\"I am not acting in haste,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch said coldly, \"but one\ncannot ask advice of anyone in such a matter. I have quite made up my\nmind.\"\n\n\"This is awful!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"I would do one thing, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch. I beseech you, do it!\" he said. \"No action has yet been\ntaken, if I understand rightly. Before you take advice, see my wife,\ntalk to her. She loves Anna like a sister, she loves you, and she's a\nwonderful woman. For God's sake, talk to her! Do me that favor, I\nbeseech you!\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch pondered, and Stepan Arkadyevitch looked at him\nsympathetically, without interrupting his silence.\n\n\"You will go to see her?\"\n\n\"I don't know. That was just why I have not been to see you. I imagine\nour relations must change.\"\n\n\"Why so? I don't see that. Allow me to believe that apart from our\nconnection you have for me, at least in part, the same friendly feeling\nI have always had for you ... and sincere esteem,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, pressing his hand. \"Even if your worst suppositions were\ncorrect, I don't--and never would--take on myself to judge either side,\nand I see no reason why our relations should be affected. But now, do\nthis, come and see my wife.\"\n\n\"Well, we look at the matter differently,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch\ncoldly. \"However, we won't discuss it.\"\n\n\"No; why shouldn't you come today to dine, anyway? My wife's expecting\nyou. Please, do come. And, above all, talk it over with her. She's a\nwonderful woman. For God's sake, on my knees, I implore you!\"\n\n\"If you so much wish it, I will come,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch,\nsighing.\n\nAnd, anxious to change the conversation, he inquired about what\ninterested them both--the new head of Stepan Arkadyevitch's department,\na man not yet old, who had suddenly been promoted to so high a position.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch had previously felt no liking for Count Anitchkin,\nand had always differed from him in his opinions. But now, from a\nfeeling readily comprehensible to officials--that hatred felt by one who\nhas suffered a defeat in the service for one who has received a\npromotion, he could not endure him.\n\n\"Well, have you seen him?\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch with a malignant\nsmile.\n\n\"Of course; he was at our sitting yesterday. He seems to know his work\ncapitally, and to be very energetic.\"\n\n\"Yes, but what is his energy directed to?\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\"Is he aiming at doing anything, or simply undoing what's been done?\nIt's the great misfortune of our government--this paper administration,\nof which he's a worthy representative.\"\n\n\"Really, I don't know what fault one could find with him. His policy I\ndon't know, but one thing--he's a very nice fellow,\" answered Stepan\nArkadyevitch. \"I've just been seeing him, and he's really a capital\nfellow. We lunched together, and I taught him how to make, you know that\ndrink, wine and oranges. It's so cooling. And it's a wonder he didn't\nknow it. He liked it awfully. No, really he's a capital fellow.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch glanced at his watch.\n\n\"Why, good heavens, it's four already, and I've still to go to\nDolgovushin's! So please come round to dinner. You can't imagine how you\nwill grieve my wife and me.\"\n\nThe way in which Alexey Alexandrovitch saw his brother-in-law out was\nvery different from the manner in which he had met him.\n\n\"I've promised, and I'll come,\" he answered wearily.\n\n\"Believe me, I appreciate it, and I hope you won't regret it,\" answered\nStepan Arkadyevitch, smiling.\n\nAnd, putting on his coat as he went, he patted the footman on the head,\nchuckled, and went out.\n\n\"At five o'clock, and not evening dress, please,\" he shouted once more,\nturning at the door.\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\n\nIt was past five, and several guests had already arrived, before the\nhost himself got home. He went in together with Sergey Ivanovitch\nKoznishev and Pestsov, who had reached the street door at the same\nmoment. These were the two leading representatives of the Moscow\nintellectuals, as Oblonsky had called them. Both were men respected for\ntheir character and their intelligence. They respected each other, but\nwere in complete and hopeless disagreement upon almost every subject,\nnot because they belonged to opposite parties, but precisely because\nthey were of the same party (their enemies refused to see any\ndistinction between their views); but, in that party, each had his own\nspecial shade of opinion. And since no difference is less easily\novercome than the difference of opinion about semi-abstract questions,\nthey never agreed in any opinion, and had long, indeed, been accustomed\nto jeer without anger, each at the other's incorrigible aberrations.\n\nThey were just going in at the door, talking of the weather, when Stepan\nArkadyevitch overtook them. In the drawing room there were already\nsitting Prince Alexander Dmitrievitch Shtcherbatsky, young\nShtcherbatsky, Turovtsin, Kitty, and Karenin.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch saw immediately that things were not going well in\nthe drawing-room without him. Darya Alexandrovna, in her best gray silk\ngown, obviously worried about the children, who were to have their\ndinner by themselves in the nursery, and by her husband's absence, was\nnot equal to the task of making the party mix without him. All were\nsitting like so many priests' wives on a visit (so the old prince\nexpressed it), obviously wondering why they were there, and pumping up\nremarks simply to avoid being silent. Turovtsin--good, simple man--felt\nunmistakably a fish out of water, and the smile with which his thick\nlips greeted Stepan Arkadyevitch said, as plainly as words: \"Well, old\nboy, you have popped me down in a learned set! A drinking party now, or\nthe _Chateau des Fleurs_, would be more in my line!\" The old prince sat\nin silence, his bright little eyes watching Karenin from one side, and\nStepan Arkadyevitch saw that he had already formed a phrase to sum up\nthat politician of whom guests were invited to partake as though he were\na sturgeon. Kitty was looking at the door, calling up all her energies\nto keep her from blushing at the entrance of Konstantin Levin. Young\nShtcherbatsky, who had not been introduced to Karenin, was trying to\nlook as though he were not in the least conscious of it. Karenin himself\nhad followed the Petersburg fashion for a dinner with ladies and was\nwearing evening dress and a white tie. Stepan Arkadyevitch saw by his\nface that he had come simply to keep his promise, and was performing a\ndisagreeable duty in being present at this gathering. He was indeed the\nperson chiefly responsible for the chill benumbing all the guests before\nStepan Arkadyevitch came in.\n\nOn entering the drawing room Stepan Arkadyevitch apologized, explaining\nthat he had been detained by that prince, who was always the scapegoat\nfor all his absences and unpunctualities, and in one moment he had made\nall the guests acquainted with each other, and, bringing together Alexey\nAlexandrovitch and Sergey Koznishev, started them on a discussion of the\nRussification of Poland, into which they immediately plunged with\nPestsov. Slapping Turovtsin on the shoulder, he whispered something\ncomic in his ear, and set him down by his wife and the old prince. Then\nhe told Kitty she was looking very pretty that evening, and presented\nShtcherbatsky to Karenin. In a moment he had so kneaded together the\nsocial dough that the drawing room became very lively, and there was a\nmerry buzz of voices. Konstantin Levin was the only person who had not\narrived. But this was so much the better, as going into the dining room,\nStepan Arkadyevitch found to his horror that the port and sherry had\nbeen procured from Depre, and not from Levy, and, directing that the\ncoachman should be sent off as speedily as possible to Levy's, he was\ngoing back to the drawing room.\n\nIn the dining room he was met by Konstantin Levin.\n\n\"I'm not late?\"\n\n\"You can never help being late!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, taking his\narm.\n\n\"Have you a lot of people? Who's here?\" asked Levin, unable to help\nblushing, as he knocked the snow off his cap with his glove.\n\n\"All our own set. Kitty's here. Come along, I'll introduce you to\nKarenin.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch, for all his liberal views, was well aware that to\nmeet Karenin was sure to be felt a flattering distinction, and so\ntreated his best friends to this honor. But at that instant Konstantin\nLevin was not in a condition to feel all the gratification of making\nsuch an acquaintance. He had not seen Kitty since that memorable evening\nwhen he met Vronsky, not counting, that is, the moment when he had had a\nglimpse of her on the highroad. He had known at the bottom of his heart\nthat he would see her here today. But to keep his thoughts free, he had\ntried to persuade himself that he did not know it. Now when he heard\nthat she was here, he was suddenly conscious of such delight, and at the\nsame time of such dread, that his breath failed him and he could not\nutter what he wanted to say.\n\n\"What is she like, what is she like? Like what she used to be, or like\nwhat she was in the carriage? What if Darya Alexandrovna told the truth?\nWhy shouldn't it be the truth?\" he thought.\n\n\"Oh, please, introduce me to Karenin,\" he brought out with an effort,\nand with a desperately determined step he walked into the drawing room\nand beheld her.\n\nShe was not the same as she used to be, nor was she as she had been in\nthe carriage; she was quite different.\n\nShe was scared, shy, shame-faced, and still more charming from it. She\nsaw him the very instant he walked into the room. She had been expecting\nhim. She was delighted, and so confused at her own delight that there\nwas a moment, the moment when he went up to her sister and glanced again\nat her, when she, and he, and Dolly, who saw it all, thought she would\nbreak down and would begin to cry. She crimsoned, turned white,\ncrimsoned again, and grew faint, waiting with quivering lips for him to\ncome to her. He went up to her, bowed, and held out his hand without\nspeaking. Except for the slight quiver of her lips and the moisture in\nher eyes that made them brighter, her smile was almost calm as she said:\n\n\"How long it is since we've seen each other!\" and with desperate\ndetermination she pressed his hand with her cold hand.\n\n\"You've not seen me, but I've seen you,\" said Levin, with a radiant\nsmile of happiness. \"I saw you when you were driving from the railway\nstation to Ergushovo.\"\n\n\"When?\" she asked, wondering.\n\n\"You were driving to Ergushovo,\" said Levin, feeling as if he would sob\nwith the rapture that was flooding his heart. \"And how dared I associate\na thought of anything not innocent with this touching creature? And,\nyes, I do believe it's true what Darya Alexandrovna told me,\" he\nthought.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch took him by the arm and led him away to Karenin.\n\n\"Let me introduce you.\" He mentioned their names.\n\n\"Very glad to meet you again,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch coldly,\nshaking hands with Levin.\n\n\"You are acquainted?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch asked in surprise.\n\n\"We spent three hours together in the train,\" said Levin smiling, \"but\ngot out, just as in a masquerade, quite mystified--at least I was.\"\n\n\"Nonsense! Come along, please,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, pointing in\nthe direction of the dining room.\n\nThe men went into the dining-room and went up to a table, laid with six\nsorts of spirits and as many kinds of cheese, some with little silver\nspades and some without, caviar, herrings, preserves of various kinds,\nand plates with slices of French bread.\n\nThe men stood round the strong-smelling spirits and salt delicacies, and\nthe discussion of the Russification of Poland between Koznishev,\nKarenin, and Pestsov died down in anticipation of dinner.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch was unequaled in his skill in winding up the most\nheated and serious argument by some unexpected pinch of Attic salt that\nchanged the disposition of his opponent. He did this now.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch had been maintaining that the Russification of\nPoland could only be accomplished as a result of larger measures which\nought to be introduced by the Russian government.\n\nPestsov insisted that one country can only absorb another when it is the\nmore densely populated.\n\nKoznishev admitted both points, but with limitations. As they were going\nout of the drawing room to conclude the argument, Koznishev said,\nsmiling:\n\n\"So, then, for the Russification of our foreign populations there is but\none method--to bring up as many children as one can. My brother and I\nare terribly in fault, I see. You married men, especially you, Stepan\nArkadyevitch, are the real patriots: what number have you reached?\" he\nsaid, smiling genially at their host and holding out a tiny wine glass\nto him.\n\nEveryone laughed, and Stepan Arkadyevitch with particular good humor.\n\n\"Oh, yes, that's the best method!\" he said, munching cheese and filling\nthe wine-glass with a special sort of spirit. The conversation dropped\nat the jest.\n\n\"This cheese is not bad. Shall I give you some?\" said the master of the\nhouse. \"Why, have you been going in for gymnastics again?\" he asked\nLevin, pinching his muscle with his left hand. Levin smiled, bent his\narm, and under Stepan Arkadyevitch's fingers the muscles swelled up like\na sound cheese, hard as a knob of iron, through the fine cloth of the\ncoat.\n\n\"What biceps! A perfect Samson!\"\n\n\"I imagine great strength is needed for hunting bears,\" observed Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, who had the mistiest notions about the chase. He cut off\nand spread with cheese a wafer of bread fine as a spider-web.\n\nLevin smiled.\n\n\"Not at all. Quite the contrary; a child can kill a bear,\" he said, with\na slight bow moving aside for the ladies, who were approaching the\ntable.\n\n\"You have killed a bear, I've been told!\" said Kitty, trying assiduously\nto catch with her fork a perverse mushroom that would slip away, and\nsetting the lace quivering over her white arm. \"Are there bears on your\nplace?\" she added, turning her charming little head to him and smiling.\n\nThere was apparently nothing extraordinary in what she said, but what\nunutterable meaning there was for him in every sound, in every turn of\nher lips, her eyes, her hand as she said it! There was entreaty for\nforgiveness, and trust in him, and tenderness--soft, timid\ntenderness--and promise and hope and love for him, which he could not\nbut believe in and which choked him with happiness.\n\n\"No, we've been hunting in the Tver province. It was coming back from\nthere that I met your _beaufrere_ in the train, or your _beaufrere's_\nbrother-in-law,\" he said with a smile. \"It was an amusing meeting.\"\n\nAnd he began telling with droll good-humor how, after not sleeping all\nnight, he had, wearing an old fur-lined, full-skirted coat, got into\nAlexey Alexandrovitch's compartment.\n\n\"The conductor, forgetting the proverb, would have chucked me out on\naccount of my attire; but thereupon I began expressing my feelings in\nelevated language, and ... you, too,\" he said, addressing Karenin and\nforgetting his name, \"at first would have ejected me on the ground of\nthe old coat, but afterwards you took my part, for which I am extremely\ngrateful.\"\n\n\"The rights of passengers generally to choose their seats are too\nill-defined,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, rubbing the tips of his\nfingers on his handkerchief.\n\n\"I saw you were in uncertainty about me,\" said Levin, smiling\ngood-naturedly, \"but I made haste to plunge into intellectual\nconversation to smooth over the defects of my attire.\" Sergey\nIvanovitch, while he kept up a conversation with their hostess, had one\near for his brother, and he glanced askance at him. \"What is the matter\nwith him today? Why such a conquering hero?\" he thought. He did not know\nthat Levin was feeling as though he had grown wings. Levin knew she was\nlistening to his words and that she was glad to listen to him. And this\nwas the only thing that interested him. Not in that room only, but in\nthe whole world, there existed for him only himself, with enormously\nincreased importance and dignity in his own eyes, and she. He felt\nhimself on a pinnacle that made him giddy, and far away down below were\nall those nice excellent Karenins, Oblonskys, and all the world.\n\nQuite without attracting notice, without glancing at them, as though\nthere were no other places left, Stepan Arkadyevitch put Levin and Kitty\nside by side.\n\n\"Oh, you may as well sit there,\" he said to Levin.\n\nThe dinner was as choice as the china, in which Stepan Arkadyevitch was\na connoisseur. The _soupe Marie-Louise_ was a splendid success; the tiny\npies eaten with it melted in the mouth and were irreproachable. The two\nfootmen and Matvey, in white cravats, did their duty with the dishes and\nwines unobtrusively, quietly, and swiftly. On the material side the\ndinner was a success; it was no less so on the immaterial. The\nconversation, at times general and at times between individuals, never\npaused, and towards the end the company was so lively that the men rose\nfrom the table, without stopping speaking, and even Alexey\nAlexandrovitch thawed.\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\n\nPestsov liked thrashing an argument out to the end, and was not\nsatisfied with Sergey Ivanovitch's words, especially as he felt the\ninjustice of his view.\n\n\"I did not mean,\" he said over the soup, addressing Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, \"mere density of population alone, but in conjunction\nwith fundamental ideas, and not by means of principles.\"\n\n\"It seems to me,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch said languidly, and with no\nhaste, \"that that's the same thing. In my opinion, influence over\nanother people is only possible to the people which has the higher\ndevelopment, which...\"\n\n\"But that's just the question,\" Pestsov broke in in his bass.\n\nHe was always in a hurry to speak, and seemed always to put his whole\nsoul into what he was saying. \"In what are we to make higher development\nconsist? The English, the French, the Germans, which is at the highest\nstage of development? Which of them will nationalize the other? We see\nthe Rhine provinces have been turned French, but the Germans are not at\na lower stage!\" he shouted. \"There is another law at work there.\"\n\n\"I fancy that the greater influence is always on the side of true\ncivilization,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, slightly lifting his\neyebrows.\n\n\"But what are we to lay down as the outward signs of true civilization?\"\nsaid Pestsov.\n\n\"I imagine such signs are generally very well known,\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch.\n\n\"But are they fully known?\" Sergey Ivanovitch put in with a subtle\nsmile. \"It is the accepted view now that real culture must be purely\nclassical; but we see most intense disputes on each side of the\nquestion, and there is no denying that the opposite camp has strong\npoints in its favor.\"\n\n\"You are for classics, Sergey Ivanovitch. Will you take red wine?\" said\nStepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"I am not expressing my own opinion of either form of culture,\" Sergey\nIvanovitch said, holding out his glass with a smile of condescension, as\nto a child. \"I only say that both sides have strong arguments to support\nthem,\" he went on, addressing Alexey Alexandrovitch. \"My sympathies are\nclassical from education, but in this discussion I am personally unable\nto arrive at a conclusion. I see no distinct grounds for classical\nstudies being given a preeminence over scientific studies.\"\n\n\"The natural sciences have just as great an educational value,\" put in\nPestsov. \"Take astronomy, take botany, or zoology with its system of\ngeneral principles.\"\n\n\"I cannot quite agree with that,\" responded Alexey Alexandrovitch \"It\nseems to me that one must admit that the very process of studying the\nforms of language has a peculiarly favorable influence on intellectual\ndevelopment. Moreover, it cannot be denied that the influence of the\nclassical authors is in the highest degree moral, while, unfortunately,\nwith the study of the natural sciences are associated the false and\nnoxious doctrines which are the curse of our day.\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch would have said something, but Pestsov interrupted him\nin his rich bass. He began warmly contesting the justice of this view.\nSergey Ivanovitch waited serenely to speak, obviously with a convincing\nreply ready.\n\n\"But,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, smiling subtly, and addressing Karenin,\n\"One must allow that to weigh all the advantages and disadvantages of\nclassical and scientific studies is a difficult task, and the question\nwhich form of education was to be preferred would not have been so\nquickly and conclusively decided if there had not been in favor of\nclassical education, as you expressed it just now, its moral--disons le\nmot--anti-nihilist influence.\"\n\n\"Undoubtedly.\"\n\n\"If it had not been for the distinctive property of anti-nihilistic\ninfluence on the side of classical studies, we should have considered\nthe subject more, have weighed the arguments on both sides,\" said Sergey\nIvanovitch with a subtle smile, \"we should have given elbow-room to both\ntendencies. But now we know that these little pills of classical\nlearning possess the medicinal property of anti-nihilism, and we boldly\nprescribe them to our patients.... But what if they had no such\nmedicinal property?\" he wound up humorously.\n\nAt Sergey Ivanovitch's little pills, everyone laughed; Turovtsin in\nespecial roared loudly and jovially, glad at last to have found\nsomething to laugh at, all he ever looked for in listening to\nconversation.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch had not made a mistake in inviting Pestsov. With\nPestsov intellectual conversation never flagged for an instant. Directly\nSergey Ivanovitch had concluded the conversation with his jest, Pestsov\npromptly started a new one.\n\n\"I can't agree even,\" said he, \"that the government had that aim. The\ngovernment obviously is guided by abstract considerations, and remains\nindifferent to the influence its measures may exercise. The education of\nwomen, for instance, would naturally be regarded as likely to be\nharmful, but the government opens schools and universities for women.\"\n\nAnd the conversation at once passed to the new subject of the education\nof women.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch expressed the idea that the education of women is\napt to be confounded with the emancipation of women, and that it is only\nso that it can be considered dangerous.\n\n\"I consider, on the contrary, that the two questions are inseparably\nconnected together,\" said Pestsov; \"it is a vicious circle. Woman is\ndeprived of rights from lack of education, and the lack of education\nresults from the absence of rights. We must not forget that the\nsubjection of women is so complete, and dates from such ages back that\nwe are often unwilling to recognize the gulf that separates them from\nus,\" said he.\n\n\"You said rights,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, waiting till Pestsov had\nfinished, \"meaning the right of sitting on juries, of voting, of\npresiding at official meetings, the right of entering the civil service,\nof sitting in parliament...\"\n\n\"Undoubtedly.\"\n\n\"But if women, as a rare exception, can occupy such positions, it seems\nto me you are wrong in using the expression 'rights.' It would be more\ncorrect to say duties. Every man will agree that in doing the duty of a\njuryman, a witness, a telegraph clerk, we feel we are performing duties.\nAnd therefore it would be correct to say that women are seeking duties,\nand quite legitimately. And one can but sympathize with this desire to\nassist in the general labor of man.\"\n\n\"Quite so,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch assented. \"The question, I imagine, is\nsimply whether they are fitted for such duties.\"\n\n\"They will most likely be perfectly fitted,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\n\"when education has become general among them. We see this...\"\n\n\"How about the proverb?\" said the prince, who had a long while been\nintent on the conversation, his little comical eyes twinkling. \"I can\nsay it before my daughter: her hair is long, because her wit is...\"\n\n\"Just what they thought of the negroes before their emancipation!\" said\nPestsov angrily.\n\n\"What seems strange to me is that women should seek fresh duties,\" said\nSergey Ivanovitch, \"while we see, unhappily, that men usually try to\navoid them.\"\n\n\"Duties are bound up with rights--power, money, honor; those are what\nwomen are seeking,\" said Pestsov.\n\n\"Just as though I should seek the right to be a wet-nurse and feel\ninjured because women are paid for the work, while no one will take me,\"\nsaid the old prince.\n\nTurovtsin exploded in a loud roar of laughter and Sergey Ivanovitch\nregretted that he had not made this comparison. Even Alexey\nAlexandrovitch smiled.\n\n\"Yes, but a man can't nurse a baby,\" said Pestsov, \"while a woman...\"\n\n\"No, there was an Englishman who did suckle his baby on board ship,\"\nsaid the old prince, feeling this freedom in conversation permissible\nbefore his own daughters.\n\n\"There are as many such Englishmen as there would be women officials,\"\nsaid Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"Yes, but what is a girl to do who has no family?\" put in Stepan\nArkadyevitch, thinking of Masha Tchibisova, whom he had had in his mind\nall along, in sympathizing with Pestsov and supporting him.\n\n\"If the story of such a girl were thoroughly sifted, you would find she\nhad abandoned a family--her own or a sister's, where she might have\nfound a woman's duties,\" Darya Alexandrovna broke in unexpectedly in a\ntone of exasperation, probably suspecting what sort of girl Stepan\nArkadyevitch was thinking of.\n\n\"But we take our stand on principle as the ideal,\" replied Pestsov in\nhis mellow bass. \"Woman desires to have rights, to be independent,\neducated. She is oppressed, humiliated by the consciousness of her\ndisabilities.\"\n\n\"And I'm oppressed and humiliated that they won't engage me at the\nFoundling,\" the old prince said again, to the huge delight of Turovtsin,\nwho in his mirth dropped his asparagus with the thick end in the sauce.\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\n\nEveryone took part in the conversation except Kitty and Levin. At first,\nwhen they were talking of the influence that one people has on another,\nthere rose to Levin's mind what he had to say on the subject. But these\nideas, once of such importance in his eyes, seemed to come into his\nbrain as in a dream, and had now not the slightest interest for him. It\neven struck him as strange that they should be so eager to talk of what\nwas of no use to anyone. Kitty, too, should, one would have supposed,\nhave been interested in what they were saying of the rights and\neducation of women. How often she had mused on the subject, thinking of\nher friend abroad, Varenka, of her painful state of dependence, how\noften she had wondered about herself what would become of her if she did\nnot marry, and how often she had argued with her sister about it! But it\ndid not interest her at all. She and Levin had a conversation of their\nown, yet not a conversation, but some sort of mysterious communication,\nwhich brought them every moment nearer, and stirred in both a sense of\nglad terror before the unknown into which they were entering.\n\nAt first Levin, in answer to Kitty's question how he could have seen her\nlast year in the carriage, told her how he had been coming home from the\nmowing along the highroad and had met her.\n\n\"It was very, very early in the morning. You were probably only just\nawake. Your mother was asleep in the corner. It was an exquisite\nmorning. I was walking along wondering who it could be in a\nfour-in-hand? It was a splendid set of four horses with bells, and in a\nsecond you flashed by, and I saw you at the window--you were sitting\nlike this, holding the strings of your cap in both hands, and thinking\nawfully deeply about something,\" he said, smiling. \"How I should like to\nknow what you were thinking about then! Something important?\"\n\n\"Wasn't I dreadfully untidy?\" she wondered, but seeing the smile of\necstasy these reminiscences called up, she felt that the impression she\nhad made had been very good. She blushed and laughed with delight;\n\"Really I don't remember.\"\n\n\"How nicely Turovtsin laughs!\" said Levin, admiring his moist eyes and\nshaking chest.\n\n\"Have you known him long?\" asked Kitty.\n\n\"Oh, everyone knows him!\"\n\n\"And I see you think he's a horrid man?\"\n\n\"Not horrid, but nothing in him.\"\n\n\"Oh, you're wrong! And you must give up thinking so directly!\" said\nKitty. \"I used to have a very poor opinion of him too, but he, he's an\nawfully nice and wonderfully good-hearted man. He has a heart of gold.\"\n\n\"How could you find out what sort of heart he has?\"\n\n\"We are great friends. I know him very well. Last winter, soon after ...\nyou came to see us,\" she said, with a guilty and at the same time\nconfiding smile, \"all Dolly's children had scarlet fever, and he\nhappened to come and see her. And only fancy,\" she said in a whisper,\n\"he felt so sorry for her that he stayed and began to help her look\nafter the children. Yes, and for three weeks he stopped with them, and\nlooked after the children like a nurse.\"\n\n\"I am telling Konstantin Dmitrievitch about Turovtsin in the scarlet\nfever,\" she said, bending over to her sister.\n\n\"Yes, it was wonderful, noble!\" said Dolly, glancing towards Turovtsin,\nwho had become aware they were talking of him, and smiling gently to\nhim. Levin glanced once more at Turovtsin, and wondered how it was he\nhad not realized all this man's goodness before.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, and I'll never think ill of people again!\" he\nsaid gaily, genuinely expressing what he felt at the moment.\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\n\nConnected with the conversation that had sprung up on the rights of\nwomen there were certain questions as to the inequality of rights in\nmarriage improper to discuss before the ladies. Pestsov had several\ntimes during dinner touched upon these questions, but Sergey Ivanovitch\nand Stepan Arkadyevitch carefully drew him off them.\n\nWhen they rose from the table and the ladies had gone out, Pestsov did\nnot follow them, but addressing Alexey Alexandrovitch, began to expound\nthe chief ground of inequality. The inequality in marriage, in his\nopinion, lay in the fact that the infidelity of the wife and the\ninfidelity of the husband are punished unequally, both by the law and by\npublic opinion. Stepan Arkadyevitch went hurriedly up to Alexey\nAlexandrovitch and offered him a cigar.\n\n\"No, I don't smoke,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch answered calmly, and as\nthough purposely wishing to show that he was not afraid of the subject,\nhe turned to Pestsov with a chilly smile.\n\n\"I imagine that such a view has a foundation in the very nature of\nthings,\" he said, and would have gone on to the drawing room. But at\nthis point Turovtsin broke suddenly and unexpectedly into the\nconversation, addressing Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"You heard, perhaps, about Pryatchnikov?\" said Turovtsin, warmed up by\nthe champagne he had drunk, and long waiting for an opportunity to break\nthe silence that had weighed on him. \"Vasya Pryatchnikov,\" he said, with\na good-natured smile on his damp, red lips, addressing himself\nprincipally to the most important guest, Alexey Alexandrovitch, \"they\ntold me today he fought a duel with Kvitsky at Tver, and has killed\nhim.\"\n\nJust as it always seems that one bruises oneself on a sore place, so\nStepan Arkadyevitch felt now that the conversation would by ill luck\nfall every moment on Alexey Alexandrovitch's sore spot. He would again\nhave got his brother-in-law away, but Alexey Alexandrovitch himself\ninquired, with curiosity:\n\n\"What did Pryatchnikov fight about?\"\n\n\"His wife. Acted like a man, he did! Called him out and shot him!\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch indifferently, and lifting his\neyebrows, he went into the drawing room.\n\n\"How glad I am you have come,\" Dolly said with a frightened smile,\nmeeting him in the outer drawing room. \"I must talk to you. Let's sit\nhere.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, with the same expression of indifference, given\nhim by his lifted eyebrows, sat down beside Darya Alexandrovna, and\nsmiled affectedly.\n\n\"It's fortunate,\" said he, \"especially as I was meaning to ask you to\nexcuse me, and to be taking leave. I have to start tomorrow.\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna was firmly convinced of Anna's innocence, and she\nfelt herself growing pale and her lips quivering with anger at this\nfrigid, unfeeling man, who was so calmly intending to ruin her innocent\nfriend.\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch,\" she said, with desperate resolution looking him\nin the face, \"I asked you about Anna, you made me no answer. How is\nshe?\"\n\n\"She is, I believe, quite well, Darya Alexandrovna,\" replied Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, not looking at her.\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch, forgive me, I have no right ... but I love Anna\nas a sister, and esteem her; I beg, I beseech you to tell me what is\nwrong between you? what fault do you find with her?\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch frowned, and almost closing his eyes, dropped his\nhead.\n\n\"I presume that your husband has told you the grounds on which I\nconsider it necessary to change my attitude to Anna Arkadyevna?\" he\nsaid, not looking her in the face, but eyeing with displeasure\nShtcherbatsky, who was walking across the drawing room.\n\n\"I don't believe it, I don't believe it, I can't believe it!\" Dolly\nsaid, clasping her bony hands before her with a vigorous gesture. She\nrose quickly, and laid her hand on Alexey Alexandrovitch's sleeve. \"We\nshall be disturbed here. Come this way, please.\"\n\nDolly's agitation had an effect on Alexey Alexandrovitch. He got up and\nsubmissively followed her to the schoolroom. They sat down to a table\ncovered with an oilcloth cut in slits by penknives.\n\n\"I don't, I don't believe it!\" Dolly said, trying to catch his glance\nthat avoided her.\n\n\"One cannot disbelieve facts, Darya Alexandrovna,\" said he, with an\nemphasis on the word \"facts.\"\n\n\"But what has she done?\" said Darya Alexandrovna. \"What precisely has\nshe done?\"\n\n\"She has forsaken her duty, and deceived her husband. That's what she\nhas done,\" said he.\n\n\"No, no, it can't be! No, for God's sake, you are mistaken,\" said Dolly,\nputting her hands to her temples and closing her eyes.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch smiled coldly, with his lips alone, meaning to\nsignify to her and to himself the firmness of his conviction; but this\nwarm defense, though it could not shake him, reopened his wound. He\nbegan to speak with greater heat.\n\n\"It is extremely difficult to be mistaken when a wife herself informs\nher husband of the fact--informs him that eight years of her life, and a\nson, all that's a mistake, and that she wants to begin life again,\" he\nsaid angrily, with a snort.\n\n\"Anna and sin--I cannot connect them, I cannot believe it!\"\n\n\"Darya Alexandrovna,\" he said, now looking straight into Dolly's kindly,\ntroubled face, and feeling that his tongue was being loosened in spite\nof himself, \"I would give a great deal for doubt to be still possible.\nWhen I doubted, I was miserable, but it was better than now. When I\ndoubted, I had hope; but now there is no hope, and still I doubt of\neverything. I am in such doubt of everything that I even hate my son,\nand sometimes do not believe he is my son. I am very unhappy.\"\n\nHe had no need to say that. Darya Alexandrovna had seen that as soon as\nhe glanced into her face; and she felt sorry for him, and her faith in\nthe innocence of her friend began to totter.\n\n\"Oh, this is awful, awful! But can it be true that you are resolved on a\ndivorce?\"\n\n\"I am resolved on extreme measures. There is nothing else for me to do.\"\n\n\"Nothing else to do, nothing else to do...\" she replied, with tears in\nher eyes. \"Oh no, don't say nothing else to do!\" she said.\n\n\"What is horrible in a trouble of this kind is that one cannot, as in\nany other--in loss, in death--bear one's trouble in peace, but that one\nmust act,\" said he, as though guessing her thought. \"One must get out of\nthe humiliating position in which one is placed; one can't live _a\ntrois_.\"\n\n\"I understand, I quite understand that,\" said Dolly, and her head sank.\nShe was silent for a little, thinking of herself, of her own grief in\nher family, and all at once, with an impulsive movement, she raised her\nhead and clasped her hands with an imploring gesture. \"But wait a\nlittle! You are a Christian. Think of her! What will become of her, if\nyou cast her off?\"\n\n\"I have thought, Darya Alexandrovna, I have thought a great deal,\" said\nAlexey Alexandrovitch. His face turned red in patches, and his dim eyes\nlooked straight before him. Darya Alexandrovna at that moment pitied him\nwith all her heart. \"That was what I did indeed when she herself made\nknown to me my humiliation; I left everything as of old. I gave her a\nchance to reform, I tried to save her. And with what result? She would\nnot regard the slightest request--that she should observe decorum,\" he\nsaid, getting heated. \"One may save anyone who does not want to be\nruined; but if the whole nature is so corrupt, so depraved, that ruin\nitself seems to be her salvation, what's to be done?\"\n\n\"Anything, only not divorce!\" answered Darya Alexandrovna\n\n\"But what is anything?\"\n\n\"No, it is awful! She will be no one's wife, she will be lost!\"\n\n\"What can I do?\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, raising his shoulders and\nhis eyebrows. The recollection of his wife's last act had so incensed\nhim that he had become frigid, as at the beginning of the conversation.\n\"I am very grateful for your sympathy, but I must be going,\" he said,\ngetting up.\n\n\"No, wait a minute. You must not ruin her. Wait a little; I will tell\nyou about myself. I was married, and my husband deceived me; in anger\nand jealousy, I would have thrown up everything, I would myself.... But\nI came to myself again; and who did it? Anna saved me. And here I am\nliving on. The children are growing up, my husband has come back to his\nfamily, and feels his fault, is growing purer, better, and I live on....\nI have forgiven it, and you ought to forgive!\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch heard her, but her words had no effect on him now.\nAll the hatred of that day when he had resolved on a divorce had sprung\nup again in his soul. He shook himself, and said in a shrill, loud\nvoice:--\n\n\"Forgive I cannot, and do not wish to, and I regard it as wrong. I have\ndone everything for this woman, and she has trodden it all in the mud to\nwhich she is akin. I am not a spiteful man, I have never hated anyone,\nbut I hate her with my whole soul, and I cannot even forgive her,\nbecause I hate her too much for all the wrong she has done me!\" he said,\nwith tones of hatred in his voice.\n\n\"Love those that hate you....\" Darya Alexandrovna whispered timorously.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch smiled contemptuously. That he knew long ago, but\nit could not be applied to his case.\n\n\"Love those that hate you, but to love those one hates is impossible.\nForgive me for having troubled you. Everyone has enough to bear in his\nown grief!\" And regaining his self-possession, Alexey Alexandrovitch\nquietly took leave and went away.\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\n\nWhen they rose from table, Levin would have liked to follow Kitty into\nthe drawing room; but he was afraid she might dislike this, as too\nobviously paying her attention. He remained in the little ring of men,\ntaking part in the general conversation, and without looking at Kitty,\nhe was aware of her movements, her looks, and the place where she was in\nthe drawing room.\n\nHe did at once, and without the smallest effort, keep the promise he had\nmade her--always to think well of all men, and to like everyone always.\nThe conversation fell on the village commune, in which Pestsov saw a\nsort of special principle, called by him the choral principle. Levin did\nnot agree with Pestsov, nor with his brother, who had a special attitude\nof his own, both admitting and not admitting the significance of the\nRussian commune. But he talked to them, simply trying to reconcile and\nsoften their differences. He was not in the least interested in what he\nsaid himself, and even less so in what they said; all he wanted was that\nthey and everyone should be happy and contented. He knew now the one\nthing of importance; and that one thing was at first there, in the\ndrawing room, and then began moving across and came to a standstill at\nthe door. Without turning round he felt the eyes fixed on him, and the\nsmile, and he could not help turning round. She was standing in the\ndoorway with Shtcherbatsky, looking at him.\n\n\"I thought you were going towards the piano,\" said he, going up to her.\n\"That's something I miss in the country--music.\"\n\n\"No; we only came to fetch you and thank you,\" she said, rewarding him\nwith a smile that was like a gift, \"for coming. What do they want to\nargue for? No one ever convinces anyone, you know.\"\n\n\"Yes; that's true,\" said Levin; \"it generally happens that one argues\nwarmly simply because one can't make out what one's opponent wants to\nprove.\"\n\nLevin had often noticed in discussions between the most intelligent\npeople that after enormous efforts, and an enormous expenditure of\nlogical subtleties and words, the disputants finally arrived at being\naware that what they had so long been struggling to prove to one another\nhad long ago, from the beginning of the argument, been known to both,\nbut that they liked different things, and would not define what they\nliked for fear of its being attacked. He had often had the experience of\nsuddenly in a discussion grasping what it was his opponent liked and at\nonce liking it too, and immediately he found himself agreeing, and then\nall arguments fell away as useless. Sometimes, too, he had experienced\nthe opposite, expressing at last what he liked himself, which he was\ndevising arguments to defend, and, chancing to express it well and\ngenuinely, he had found his opponent at once agreeing and ceasing to\ndispute his position. He tried to say this.\n\nShe knitted her brow, trying to understand. But directly he began to\nillustrate his meaning, she understood at once.\n\n\"I know: one must find out what he is arguing for, what is precious to\nhim, then one can...\"\n\nShe had completely guessed and expressed his badly expressed idea. Levin\nsmiled joyfully; he was struck by this transition from the confused,\nverbose discussion with Pestsov and his brother to this laconic, clear,\nalmost wordless communication of the most complex ideas.\n\nShtcherbatsky moved away from them, and Kitty, going up to a card table,\nsat down, and, taking up the chalk, began drawing diverging circles over\nthe new green cloth.\n\nThey began again on the subject that had been started at dinner--the\nliberty and occupations of women. Levin was of the opinion of Darya\nAlexandrovna that a girl who did not marry should find a woman's duties\nin a family. He supported this view by the fact that no family can get\non without women to help; that in every family, poor or rich, there are\nand must be nurses, either relations or hired.\n\n\"No,\" said Kitty, blushing, but looking at him all the more boldly with\nher truthful eyes; \"a girl may be so circumstanced that she cannot live\nin the family without humiliation, while she herself...\"\n\nAt the hint he understood her.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" he said. \"Yes, yes, yes--you're right; you're right!\"\n\nAnd he saw all that Pestsov had been maintaining at dinner of the\nliberty of woman, simply from getting a glimpse of the terror of an old\nmaid's existence and its humiliation in Kitty's heart; and loving her,\nhe felt that terror and humiliation, and at once gave up his arguments.\n\nA silence followed. She was still drawing with the chalk on the table.\nHer eyes were shining with a soft light. Under the influence of her mood\nhe felt in all his being a continually growing tension of happiness.\n\n\"Ah! I've scribbled all over the table!\" she said, and, laying down the\nchalk, she made a movement as though to get up.\n\n\"What! shall I be left alone--without her?\" he thought with horror, and\nhe took the chalk. \"Wait a minute,\" he said, sitting down to the table.\n\"I've long wanted to ask you one thing.\"\n\nHe looked straight into her caressing, though frightened eyes.\n\n\"Please, ask it.\"\n\n\"Here,\" he said; and he wrote the initial letters, _w, y, t, m, i, c, n,\nb, d, t, m, n, o, t_. These letters meant, \"When you told me it could\nnever be, did that mean never, or then?\" There seemed no likelihood that\nshe could make out this complicated sentence; but he looked at her as\nthough his life depended on her understanding the words. She glanced at\nhim seriously, then leaned her puckered brow on her hands and began to\nread. Once or twice she stole a look at him, as though asking him, \"Is\nit what I think?\"\n\n\"I understand,\" she said, flushing a little.\n\n\"What is this word?\" he said, pointing to the n that stood for _never_.\n\n\"It means _never_,\" she said; \"but that's not true!\"\n\nHe quickly rubbed out what he had written, gave her the chalk, and stood\nup. She wrote, _t, i, c, n, a, d_.\n\nDolly was completely comforted in the depression caused by her\nconversation with Alexey Alexandrovitch when she caught sight of the two\nfigures: Kitty with the chalk in her hand, with a shy and happy smile\nlooking upwards at Levin, and his handsome figure bending over the table\nwith glowing eyes fastened one minute on the table and the next on her.\nHe was suddenly radiant: he had understood. It meant, \"Then I could not\nanswer differently.\"\n\nHe glanced at her questioningly, timidly.\n\n\"Only then?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" her smile answered.\n\n\"And n... and now?\" he asked.\n\n\"Well, read this. I'll tell you what I should like--should like so\nmuch!\" she wrote the initial letters, i, y, c, f, a, f, w, h. This\nmeant, \"If you could forget and forgive what happened.\"\n\nHe snatched the chalk with nervous, trembling fingers, and breaking it,\nwrote the initial letters of the following phrase, \"I have nothing to\nforget and to forgive; I have never ceased to love you.\"\n\nShe glanced at him with a smile that did not waver.\n\n\"I understand,\" she said in a whisper.\n\nHe sat down and wrote a long phrase. She understood it all, and without\nasking him, \"Is it this?\" took the chalk and at once answered.\n\nFor a long while he could not understand what she had written, and often\nlooked into her eyes. He was stupefied with happiness. He could not\nsupply the word she had meant; but in her charming eyes, beaming with\nhappiness, he saw all he needed to know. And he wrote three letters. But\nhe had hardly finished writing when she read them over her arm, and\nherself finished and wrote the answer, \"Yes.\"\n\n\"You're playing _secretaire_?\" said the old prince. \"But we must really\nbe getting along if you want to be in time at the theater.\"\n\nLevin got up and escorted Kitty to the door.\n\nIn their conversation everything had been said; it had been said that\nshe loved him, and that she would tell her father and mother that he\nwould come tomorrow morning.\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\n\nWhen Kitty had gone and Levin was left alone, he felt such uneasiness\nwithout her, and such an impatient longing to get as quickly, as quickly\nas possible, to tomorrow morning, when he would see her again and be\nplighted to her forever, that he felt afraid, as though of death, of\nthose fourteen hours that he had to get through without her. It was\nessential for him to be with someone to talk to, so as not to be left\nalone, to kill time. Stepan Arkadyevitch would have been the companion\nmost congenial to him, but he was going out, he said, to a _soiree_, in\nreality to the ballet. Levin only had time to tell him he was happy, and\nthat he loved him, and would never, never forget what he had done for\nhim. The eyes and the smile of Stepan Arkadyevitch showed Levin that he\ncomprehended that feeling fittingly.\n\n\"Oh, so it's not time to die yet?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, pressing\nLevin's hand with emotion.\n\n\"N-n-no!\" said Levin.\n\nDarya Alexandrovna too, as she said good-bye to him, gave him a sort of\ncongratulation, saying, \"How glad I am you have met Kitty again! One\nmust value old friends.\" Levin did not like these words of Darya\nAlexandrovna's. She could not understand how lofty and beyond her it all\nwas, and she ought not to have dared to allude to it. Levin said\ngood-bye to them, but, not to be left alone, he attached himself to his\nbrother.\n\n\"Where are you going?\"\n\n\"I'm going to a meeting.\"\n\n\"Well, I'll come with you. May I?\"\n\n\"What for? Yes, come along,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, smiling. \"What is\nthe matter with you today?\"\n\n\"With me? Happiness is the matter with me!\" said Levin, letting down the\nwindow of the carriage they were driving in. \"You don't mind?--it's so\nstifling. It's happiness is the matter with me! Why is it you have never\nmarried?\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch smiled.\n\n\"I am very glad, she seems a nice gi...\" Sergey Ivanovitch was\nbeginning.\n\n\"Don't say it! don't say it!\" shouted Levin, clutching at the collar of\nhis fur coat with both hands, and muffling him up in it. \"She's a nice\ngirl\" were such simple, humble words, so out of harmony with his\nfeeling.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch laughed outright a merry laugh, which was rare with\nhim. \"Well, anyway, I may say that I'm very glad of it.\"\n\n\"That you may do tomorrow, tomorrow and nothing more! Nothing, nothing,\nsilence,\" said Levin, and muffling him once more in his fur coat, he\nadded: \"I do like you so! Well, is it possible for me to be present at\nthe meeting?\"\n\n\"Of course it is.\"\n\n\"What is your discussion about today?\" asked Levin, never ceasing\nsmiling.\n\nThey arrived at the meeting. Levin heard the secretary hesitatingly read\nthe minutes which he obviously did not himself understand; but Levin saw\nfrom this secretary's face what a good, nice, kind-hearted person he\nwas. This was evident from his confusion and embarrassment in reading\nthe minutes. Then the discussion began. They were disputing about the\nmisappropriation of certain sums and the laying of certain pipes, and\nSergey Ivanovitch was very cutting to two members, and said something at\ngreat length with an air of triumph; and another member, scribbling\nsomething on a bit of paper, began timidly at first, but afterwards\nanswered him very viciously and delightfully. And then Sviazhsky (he was\nthere too) said something too, very handsomely and nobly. Levin listened\nto them, and saw clearly that these missing sums and these pipes were\nnot anything real, and that they were not at all angry, but were all the\nnicest, kindest people, and everything was as happy and charming as\npossible among them. They did no harm to anyone, and were all enjoying\nit. What struck Levin was that he could see through them all today, and\nfrom little, almost imperceptible signs knew the soul of each, and saw\ndistinctly that they were all good at heart. And Levin himself in\nparticular they were all extremely fond of that day. That was evident\nfrom the way they spoke to him, from the friendly, affectionate way even\nthose he did not know looked at him.\n\n\"Well, did you like it?\" Sergey Ivanovitch asked him.\n\n\"Very much. I never supposed it was so interesting! Capital! Splendid!\"\n\nSviazhsky went up to Levin and invited him to come round to tea with\nhim. Levin was utterly at a loss to comprehend or recall what it was he\nhad disliked in Sviazhsky, what he had failed to find in him. He was a\nclever and wonderfully good-hearted man.\n\n\"Most delighted,\" he said, and asked after his wife and sister-in-law.\nAnd from a queer association of ideas, because in his imagination the\nidea of Sviazhsky's sister-in-law was connected with marriage, it\noccurred to him that there was no one to whom he could more suitably\nspeak of his happiness, and he was very glad to go and see them.\n\nSviazhsky questioned him about his improvements on his estate,\npresupposing, as he always did, that there was no possibility of doing\nanything not done already in Europe, and now this did not in the least\nannoy Levin. On the contrary, he felt that Sviazhsky was right, that the\nwhole business was of little value, and he saw the wonderful softness\nand consideration with which Sviazhsky avoided fully expressing his\ncorrect view. The ladies of the Sviazhsky household were particularly\ndelightful. It seemed to Levin that they knew all about it already and\nsympathized with him, saying nothing merely from delicacy. He stayed\nwith them one hour, two, three, talking of all sorts of subjects but the\none thing that filled his heart, and did not observe that he was boring\nthem dreadfully, and that it was long past their bedtime.\n\nSviazhsky went with him into the hall, yawning and wondering at the\nstrange humor his friend was in. It was past one o'clock. Levin went\nback to his hotel, and was dismayed at the thought that all alone now\nwith his impatience he had ten hours still left to get through. The\nservant, whose turn it was to be up all night, lighted his candles, and\nwould have gone away, but Levin stopped him. This servant, Yegor, whom\nLevin had noticed before, struck him as a very intelligent, excellent,\nand, above all, good-hearted man.\n\n\"Well, Yegor, it's hard work not sleeping, isn't it?\"\n\n\"One's got to put up with it! It's part of our work, you see. In a\ngentleman's house it's easier; but then here one makes more.\"\n\nIt appeared that Yegor had a family, three boys and a daughter, a\nsempstress, whom he wanted to marry to a cashier in a saddler's shop.\n\nLevin, on hearing this, informed Yegor that, in his opinion, in marriage\nthe great thing was love, and that with love one would always be happy,\nfor happiness rests only on oneself. Yegor listened attentively, and\nobviously quite took in Levin's idea, but by way of assent to it he\nenunciated, greatly to Levin's surprise, the observation that when he\nhad lived with good masters he had always been satisfied with his\nmasters, and now was perfectly satisfied with his employer, though he\nwas a Frenchman.\n\n\"Wonderfully good-hearted fellow!\" thought Levin.\n\n\"Well, but you yourself, Yegor, when you got married, did you love your\nwife?\"\n\n\"Ay! and why not?\" responded Yegor.\n\nAnd Levin saw that Yegor too was in an excited state and intending to\nexpress all his most heartfelt emotions.\n\n\"My life, too, has been a wonderful one. From a child up...\" he was\nbeginning with flashing eyes, apparently catching Levin's enthusiasm,\njust as people catch yawning.\n\nBut at that moment a ring was heard. Yegor departed, and Levin was left\nalone. He had eaten scarcely anything at dinner, had refused tea and\nsupper at Sviazhsky's, but he was incapable of thinking of supper. He\nhad not slept the previous night, but was incapable of thinking of sleep\neither. His room was cold, but he was oppressed by heat. He opened both\nthe movable panes in his window and sat down to the table opposite the\nopen panes. Over the snow-covered roofs could be seen a decorated cross\nwith chains, and above it the rising triangle of Charles's Wain with the\nyellowish light of Capella. He gazed at the cross, then at the stars,\ndrank in the fresh freezing air that flowed evenly into the room, and\nfollowed as though in a dream the images and memories that rose in his\nimagination. At four o'clock he heard steps in the passage and peeped\nout at the door. It was the gambler Myaskin, whom he knew, coming from\nthe club. He walked gloomily, frowning and coughing. \"Poor, unlucky\nfellow!\" thought Levin, and tears came into his eyes from love and pity\nfor this man. He would have talked with him, and tried to comfort him,\nbut remembering that he had nothing but his shirt on, he changed his\nmind and sat down again at the open pane to bathe in the cold air and\ngaze at the exquisite lines of the cross, silent, but full of meaning\nfor him, and the mounting lurid yellow star. At seven o'clock there was\na noise of people polishing the floors, and bells ringing in some\nservants' department, and Levin felt that he was beginning to get\nfrozen. He closed the pane, washed, dressed, and went out into the\nstreet.\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\n\nThe streets were still empty. Levin went to the house of the\nShtcherbatskys. The visitors' doors were closed and everything was\nasleep. He walked back, went into his room again, and asked for coffee.\nThe day servant, not Yegor this time, brought it to him. Levin would\nhave entered into conversation with him, but a bell rang for the\nservant, and he went out. Levin tried to drink coffee and put some roll\nin his mouth, but his mouth was quite at a loss what to do with the\nroll. Levin, rejecting the roll, put on his coat and went out again for\na walk. It was nine o'clock when he reached the Shtcherbatskys' steps\nthe second time. In the house they were only just up, and the cook came\nout to go marketing. He had to get through at least two hours more.\n\nAll that night and morning Levin lived perfectly unconsciously, and felt\nperfectly lifted out of the conditions of material life. He had eaten\nnothing for a whole day, he had not slept for two nights, had spent\nseveral hours undressed in the frozen air, and felt not simply fresher\nand stronger than ever, but felt utterly independent of his body; he\nmoved without muscular effort, and felt as if he could do anything. He\nwas convinced he could fly upwards or lift the corner of the house, if\nneed be. He spent the remainder of the time in the street, incessantly\nlooking at his watch and gazing about him.\n\nAnd what he saw then, he never saw again after. The children especially\ngoing to school, the bluish doves flying down from the roofs to the\npavement, and the little loaves covered with flour, thrust out by an\nunseen hand, touched him. Those loaves, those doves, and those two boys\nwere not earthly creatures. It all happened at the same time: a boy ran\ntowards a dove and glanced smiling at Levin; the dove, with a whir of\nher wings, darted away, flashing in the sun, amid grains of snow that\nquivered in the air, while from a little window there came a smell of\nfresh-baked bread, and the loaves were put out. All of this together was\nso extraordinarily nice that Levin laughed and cried with delight. Going\na long way round by Gazetny Place and Kislovka, he went back again to\nthe hotel, and putting his watch before him, he sat down to wait for\ntwelve o'clock. In the next room they were talking about some sort of\nmachines, and swindling, and coughing their morning coughs. They did not\nrealize that the hand was near twelve. The hand reached it. Levin went\nout onto the steps. The sledge-drivers clearly knew all about it. They\ncrowded round Levin with happy faces, quarreling among themselves, and\noffering their services. Trying not to offend the other sledge drivers,\nand promising to drive with them too, Levin took one and told him to\ndrive to the Shtcherbatskys'. The sledge-driver was splendid in a white\nshirt-collar sticking out over his overcoat and into his strong,\nfull-blooded red neck. The sledge was high and comfortable, and\naltogether such a one as Levin never drove in after, and the horse was a\ngood one, and tried to gallop but didn't seem to move. The driver knew\nthe Shtcherbatskys' house, and drew up at the entrance with a curve of\nhis arm and a \"Wo!\" especially indicative of respect for his fare. The\nShtcherbatskys' hall-porter certainly knew all about it. This was\nevident from the smile in his eyes and the way he said:\n\n\"Well, it's a long while since you've been to see us, Konstantin\nDemitrievitch!\"\n\nNot only he knew all about it, but he was unmistakably delighted and\nmaking efforts to conceal his joy. Looking into his kindly old eyes,\nLevin realized even something new in his happiness.\n\n\"Are they up?\"\n\n\"Pray walk in! Leave it here,\" said he, smiling, as Levin would have\ncome back to take his hat. That meant something.\n\n\"To whom shall I announce your honor?\" asked the footman.\n\nThe footman, though a young man, and one of the new school of footmen, a\ndandy, was a very kind-hearted, good fellow, and he too knew all about\nit.\n\n\"The princess ... the prince ... the young princess...\" said Levin.\n\nThe first person he saw was Mademoiselle Linon. She walked across the\nroom, and her ringlets and her face were beaming. He had only just\nspoken to her, when suddenly he heard the rustle of a skirt at the door,\nand Mademoiselle Linon vanished from Levin's eyes, and a joyful terror\ncame over him at the nearness of his happiness. Mademoiselle Linon was\nin great haste, and leaving him, went out at the other door. Directly\nshe had gone out, swift, swift light steps sounded on the parquet, and\nhis bliss, his life, himself--what was best in himself, what he had so\nlong sought and longed for--was quickly, so quickly approaching him. She\ndid not walk, but seemed, by some unseen force, to float to him. He saw\nnothing but her clear, truthful eyes, frightened by the same bliss of\nlove that flooded his heart. Those eyes were shining nearer and nearer,\nblinding him with their light of love. She stopped still close to him,\ntouching him. Her hands rose and dropped onto his shoulders.\n\nShe had done all she could--she had run up to him and given herself up\nentirely, shy and happy. He put his arms round her and pressed his lips\nto her mouth that sought his kiss.\n\nShe too had not slept all night, and had been expecting him all the\nmorning.\n\nHer mother and father had consented without demur, and were happy in her\nhappiness. She had been waiting for him. She wanted to be the first to\ntell him her happiness and his. She had got ready to see him alone, and\nhad been delighted at the idea, and had been shy and ashamed, and did\nnot know herself what she was doing. She had heard his steps and voice,\nand had waited at the door for Mademoiselle Linon to go. Mademoiselle\nLinon had gone away. Without thinking, without asking herself how and\nwhat, she had gone up to him, and did as she was doing.\n\n\"Let us go to mamma!\" she said, taking him by the hand. For a long while\nhe could say nothing, not so much because he was afraid of desecrating\nthe loftiness of his emotion by a word, as that every time he tried to\nsay something, instead of words he felt that tears of happiness were\nwelling up. He took her hand and kissed it.\n\n\"Can it be true?\" he said at last in a choked voice. \"I can't believe\nyou love me, dear!\"\n\nShe smiled at that \"dear,\" and at the timidity with which he glanced at\nher.\n\n\"Yes!\" she said significantly, deliberately. \"I am so happy!\"\n\nNot letting go his hands, she went into the drawing room. The princess,\nseeing them, breathed quickly, and immediately began to cry and then\nimmediately began to laugh, and with a vigorous step Levin had not\nexpected, ran up to him, and hugging his head, kissed him, wetting his\ncheeks with her tears.\n\n\"So it is all settled! I am glad. Love her. I am glad.... Kitty!\"\n\n\"You've not been long settling things,\" said the old prince, trying to\nseem unmoved; but Levin noticed that his eyes were wet when he turned to\nhim.\n\n\"I've long, always wished for this!\" said the prince, taking Levin by\nthe arm and drawing him towards himself. \"Even when this little\nfeather-head fancied...\"\n\n\"Papa!\" shrieked Kitty, and shut his mouth with her hands.\n\n\"Well, I won't!\" he said. \"I'm very, very ... plea... Oh, what a fool I\nam...\"\n\nHe embraced Kitty, kissed her face, her hand, her face again, and made\nthe sign of the cross over her.\n\nAnd there came over Levin a new feeling of love for this man, till then\nso little known to him, when he saw how slowly and tenderly Kitty kissed\nhis muscular hand.\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\n\nThe princess sat in her armchair, silent and smiling; the prince sat\ndown beside her. Kitty stood by her father's chair, still holding his\nhand. All were silent.\n\nThe princess was the first to put everything into words, and to\ntranslate all thoughts and feelings into practical questions. And all\nequally felt this strange and painful for the first minute.\n\n\"When is it to be? We must have the benediction and announcement. And\nwhen's the wedding to be? What do you think, Alexander?\"\n\n\"Here he is,\" said the old prince, pointing to Levin--\"he's the\nprincipal person in the matter.\"\n\n\"When?\" said Levin blushing. \"Tomorrow; If you ask me, I should say, the\nbenediction today and the wedding tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Come, _mon cher_, that's nonsense!\"\n\n\"Well, in a week.\"\n\n\"He's quite mad.\"\n\n\"No, why so?\"\n\n\"Well, upon my word!\" said the mother, smiling, delighted at this haste.\n\"How about the trousseau?\"\n\n\"Will there really be a trousseau and all that?\" Levin thought with\nhorror. \"But can the trousseau and the benediction and all that--can it\nspoil my happiness? Nothing can spoil it!\" He glanced at Kitty, and\nnoticed that she was not in the least, not in the very least, disturbed\nby the idea of the trousseau. \"Then it must be all right,\" he thought.\n\n\"Oh, I know nothing about it; I only said what I should like,\" he said\napologetically.\n\n\"We'll talk it over, then. The benediction and announcement can take\nplace now. That's very well.\"\n\nThe princess went up to her husband, kissed him, and would have gone\naway, but he kept her, embraced her, and, tenderly as a young lover,\nkissed her several times, smiling. The old people were obviously muddled\nfor a moment, and did not quite know whether it was they who were in\nlove again or their daughter. When the prince and the princess had gone,\nLevin went up to his betrothed and took her hand. He was self-possessed\nnow and could speak, and he had a great deal he wanted to tell her. But\nhe said not at all what he had to say.\n\n\"How I knew it would be so! I never hoped for it; and yet in my heart I\nwas always sure,\" he said. \"I believe that it was ordained.\"\n\n\"And I!\" she said. \"Even when....\" She stopped and went on again,\nlooking at him resolutely with her truthful eyes, \"Even when I thrust\nfrom me my happiness. I always loved you alone, but I was carried away.\nI ought to tell you.... Can you forgive that?\"\n\n\"Perhaps it was for the best. You will have to forgive me so much. I\nought to tell you...\"\n\nThis was one of the things he had meant to speak about. He had resolved\nfrom the first to tell her two things--that he was not chaste as she\nwas, and that he was not a believer. It was agonizing, but he considered\nhe ought to tell her both these facts.\n\n\"No, not now, later!\" he said.\n\n\"Very well, later, but you must certainly tell me. I'm not afraid of\nanything. I want to know everything. Now it is settled.\"\n\nHe added: \"Settled that you'll take me whatever I may be--you won't give\nme up? Yes?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes.\"\n\nTheir conversation was interrupted by Mademoiselle Linon, who with an\naffected but tender smile came to congratulate her favorite pupil.\nBefore she had gone, the servants came in with their congratulations.\nThen relations arrived, and there began that state of blissful absurdity\nfrom which Levin did not emerge till the day after his wedding. Levin\nwas in a continual state of awkwardness and discomfort, but the\nintensity of his happiness went on all the while increasing. He felt\ncontinually that a great deal was being expected of him--what, he did\nnot know; and he did everything he was told, and it all gave him\nhappiness. He had thought his engagement would have nothing about it\nlike others, that the ordinary conditions of engaged couples would spoil\nhis special happiness; but it ended in his doing exactly as other people\ndid, and his happiness being only increased thereby and becoming more\nand more special, more and more unlike anything that had ever happened.\n\n\"Now we shall have sweetmeats to eat,\" said Mademoiselle Linon--and\nLevin drove off to buy sweetmeats.\n\n\"Well, I'm very glad,\" said Sviazhsky. \"I advise you to get the bouquets\nfrom Fomin's.\"\n\n\"Oh, are they wanted?\" And he drove to Fomin's.\n\nHis brother offered to lend him money, as he would have so many\nexpenses, presents to give....\n\n\"Oh, are presents wanted?\" And he galloped to Foulde's.\n\nAnd at the confectioner's, and at Fomin's, and at Foulde's he saw that\nhe was expected; that they were pleased to see him, and prided\nthemselves on his happiness, just as every one whom he had to do with\nduring those days. What was extraordinary was that everyone not only\nliked him, but even people previously unsympathetic, cold, and callous,\nwere enthusiastic over him, gave way to him in everything, treated his\nfeeling with tenderness and delicacy, and shared his conviction that he\nwas the happiest man in the world because his betrothed was beyond\nperfection. Kitty too felt the same thing. When Countess Nordston\nventured to hint that she had hoped for something better, Kitty was so\nangry and proved so conclusively that nothing in the world could be\nbetter than Levin, that Countess Nordston had to admit it, and in\nKitty's presence never met Levin without a smile of ecstatic admiration.\n\nThe confession he had promised was the one painful incident of this\ntime. He consulted the old prince, and with his sanction gave Kitty his\ndiary, in which there was written the confession that tortured him. He\nhad written this diary at the time with a view to his future wife. Two\nthings caused him anguish: his lack of purity and his lack of faith. His\nconfession of unbelief passed unnoticed. She was religious, had never\ndoubted the truths of religion, but his external unbelief did not affect\nher in the least. Through love she knew all his soul, and in his soul\nshe saw what she wanted, and that such a state of soul should be called\nunbelieving was to her a matter of no account. The other confession set\nher weeping bitterly.\n\nLevin, not without an inner struggle, handed her his diary. He knew that\nbetween him and her there could not be, and should not be, secrets, and\nso he had decided that so it must be. But he had not realized what an\neffect it would have on her, he had not put himself in her place. It was\nonly when the same evening he came to their house before the theater,\nwent into her room and saw her tear-stained, pitiful, sweet face,\nmiserable with suffering he had caused and nothing could undo, he felt\nthe abyss that separated his shameful past from her dovelike purity, and\nwas appalled at what he had done.\n\n\"Take them, take these dreadful books!\" she said, pushing away the\nnotebooks lying before her on the table. \"Why did you give them me? No,\nit was better anyway,\" she added, touched by his despairing face. \"But\nit's awful, awful!\"\n\nHis head sank, and he was silent. He could say nothing.\n\n\"You can't forgive me,\" he whispered.\n\n\"Yes, I forgive you; but it's terrible!\"\n\nBut his happiness was so immense that this confession did not shatter\nit, it only added another shade to it. She forgave him; but from that\ntime more than ever he considered himself unworthy of her, morally bowed\ndown lower than ever before her, and prized more highly than ever his\nundeserved happiness.\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\n\nUnconsciously going over in his memory the conversations that had taken\nplace during and after dinner, Alexey Alexandrovitch returned to his\nsolitary room. Darya Alexandrovna's words about forgiveness had aroused\nin him nothing but annoyance. The applicability or non-applicability of\nthe Christian precept to his own case was too difficult a question to be\ndiscussed lightly, and this question had long ago been answered by\nAlexey Alexandrovitch in the negative. Of all that had been said, what\nstuck most in his memory was the phrase of stupid, good-natured\nTurovtsin--\"_Acted like a man, he did! Called him out and shot him!_\"\nEveryone had apparently shared this feeling, though from politeness they\nhad not expressed it.\n\n\"But the matter is settled, it's useless thinking about it,\" Alexey\nAlexandrovitch told himself. And thinking of nothing but the journey\nbefore him, and the revision work he had to do, he went into his room\nand asked the porter who escorted him where his man was. The porter said\nthat the man had only just gone out. Alexey Alexandrovitch ordered tea\nto be sent him, sat down to the table, and taking the guidebook, began\nconsidering the route of his journey.\n\n\"Two telegrams,\" said his manservant, coming into the room. \"I beg your\npardon, your excellency; I'd only just that minute gone out.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch took the telegrams and opened them. The first\ntelegram was the announcement of Stremov's appointment to the very post\nKarenin had coveted. Alexey Alexandrovitch flung the telegram down, and\nflushing a little, got up and began to pace up and down the room. \"_Quos\nvult perdere dementat_,\" he said, meaning by _quos_ the persons\nresponsible for this appointment. He was not so much annoyed that he had\nnot received the post, that he had been conspicuously passed over; but\nit was incomprehensible, amazing to him that they did not see that the\nwordy phrase-monger Stremov was the last man fit for it. How could they\nfail to see how they were ruining themselves, lowering their _prestige_\nby this appointment?\n\n\"Something else in the same line,\" he said to himself bitterly, opening\nthe second telegram. The telegram was from his wife. Her name, written\nin blue pencil, \"Anna,\" was the first thing that caught his eye. \"I am\ndying; I beg, I implore you to come. I shall die easier with your\nforgiveness,\" he read. He smiled contemptuously, and flung down the\ntelegram. That this was a trick and a fraud, of that, he thought for the\nfirst minute, there could be no doubt.\n\n\"There is no deceit she would stick at. She was near her confinement.\nPerhaps it is the confinement. But what can be their aim? To legitimize\nthe child, to compromise me, and prevent a divorce,\" he thought. \"But\nsomething was said in it: I am dying....\" He read the telegram again,\nand suddenly the plain meaning of what was said in it struck him.\n\n\"And if it is true?\" he said to himself. \"If it is true that in the\nmoment of agony and nearness to death she is genuinely penitent, and I,\ntaking it for a trick, refuse to go? That would not only be cruel, and\neveryone would blame me, but it would be stupid on my part.\"\n\n\"Piotr, call a coach; I am going to Petersburg,\" he said to his servant.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch decided that he would go to Petersburg and see his\nwife. If her illness was a trick, he would say nothing and go away\nagain. If she was really in danger, and wished to see him before her\ndeath, he would forgive her if he found her alive, and pay her the last\nduties if he came too late.\n\nAll the way he thought no more of what he ought to do.\n\nWith a sense of weariness and uncleanness from the night spent in the\ntrain, in the early fog of Petersburg Alexey Alexandrovitch drove\nthrough the deserted Nevsky and stared straight before him, not thinking\nof what was awaiting him. He could not think about it, because in\npicturing what would happen, he could not drive away the reflection that\nher death would at once remove all the difficulty of his position.\nBakers, closed shops, night-cabmen, porters sweeping the pavements\nflashed past his eyes, and he watched it all, trying to smother the\nthought of what was awaiting him, and what he dared not hope for, and\nyet was hoping for. He drove up to the steps. A sledge and a carriage\nwith the coachman asleep stood at the entrance. As he went into the\nentry, Alexey Alexandrovitch, as it were, got out his resolution from\nthe remotest corner of his brain, and mastered it thoroughly. Its\nmeaning ran: \"If it's a trick, then calm contempt and departure. If\ntruth, do what is proper.\"\n\nThe porter opened the door before Alexey Alexandrovitch rang. The\nporter, Kapitonitch, looked queer in an old coat, without a tie, and in\nslippers.\n\n\"How is your mistress?\"\n\n\"A successful confinement yesterday.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch stopped short and turned white. He felt distinctly\nnow how intensely he had longed for her death.\n\n\"And how is she?\"\n\nKorney in his morning apron ran downstairs.\n\n\"Very ill,\" he answered. \"There was a consultation yesterday, and the\ndoctor's here now.\"\n\n\"Take my things,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, and feeling some relief at\nthe news that there was still hope of her death, he went into the hall.\n\nOn the hatstand there was a military overcoat. Alexey Alexandrovitch\nnoticed it and asked:\n\n\"Who is here?\"\n\n\"The doctor, the midwife, and Count Vronsky.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch went into the inner rooms.\n\nIn the drawing room there was no one; at the sound of his steps there\ncame out of her boudoir the midwife in a cap with lilac ribbons.\n\nShe went up to Alexey Alexandrovitch, and with the familiarity given by\nthe approach of death took him by the arm and drew him towards the\nbedroom.\n\n\"Thank God you've come! She keeps on about you and nothing but you,\" she\nsaid.\n\n\"Make haste with the ice!\" the doctor's peremptory voice said from the\nbedroom.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch went into her boudoir.\n\nAt the table, sitting sideways in a low chair, was Vronsky, his face\nhidden in his hands, weeping. He jumped up at the doctor's voice, took\nhis hands from his face, and saw Alexey Alexandrovitch. Seeing the\nhusband, he was so overwhelmed that he sat down again, drawing his head\ndown to his shoulders, as if he wanted to disappear; but he made an\neffort over himself, got up and said:\n\n\"She is dying. The doctors say there is no hope. I am entirely in your\npower, only let me be here ... though I am at your disposal. I...\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, seeing Vronsky's tears, felt a rush of that\nnervous emotion always produced in him by the sight of other people's\nsuffering, and turning away his face, he moved hurriedly to the door,\nwithout hearing the rest of his words. From the bedroom came the sound\nof Anna's voice saying something. Her voice was lively, eager, with\nexceedingly distinct intonations. Alexey Alexandrovitch went into the\nbedroom, and went up to the bed. She was lying turned with her face\ntowards him. Her cheeks were flushed crimson, her eyes glittered, her\nlittle white hands thrust out from the sleeves of her dressing gown were\nplaying with the quilt, twisting it about. It seemed as though she were\nnot only well and blooming, but in the happiest frame of mind. She was\ntalking rapidly, musically, and with exceptionally correct articulation\nand expressive intonation.\n\n\"For Alexey--I am speaking of Alexey Alexandrovitch (what a strange and\nawful thing that both are Alexey, isn't it?)--Alexey would not refuse\nme. I should forget, he would forgive.... But why doesn't he come? He's\nso good he doesn't know himself how good he is. Ah, my God, what agony!\nGive me some water, quick! Oh, that will be bad for her, my little girl!\nOh, very well then, give her to a nurse. Yes, I agree, it's better in\nfact. He'll be coming; it will hurt him to see her. Give her to the\nnurse.\"\n\n\"Anna Arkadyevna, he has come. Here he is!\" said the midwife, trying to\nattract her attention to Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"Oh, what nonsense!\" Anna went on, not seeing her husband. \"No, give her\nto me; give me my little one! He has not come yet. You say he won't\nforgive me, because you don't know him. No one knows him. I'm the only\none, and it was hard for me even. His eyes I ought to know--Seryozha has\njust the same eyes--and I can't bear to see them because of it. Has\nSeryozha had his dinner? I know everyone will forget him. He would not\nforget. Seryozha must be moved into the corner room, and Mariette must\nbe asked to sleep with him.\"\n\nAll of a sudden she shrank back, was silent; and in terror, as though\nexpecting a blow, as though to defend herself, she raised her hands to\nher face. She had seen her husband.\n\n\"No, no!\" she began. \"I am not afraid of him; I am afraid of death.\nAlexey, come here. I am in a hurry, because I've no time, I've not long\nleft to live; the fever will begin directly and I shall understand\nnothing more. Now I understand, I understand it all, I see it all!\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch's wrinkled face wore an expression of agony; he\ntook her by the hand and tried to say something, but he could not utter\nit; his lower lip quivered, but he still went on struggling with his\nemotion, and only now and then glanced at her. And each time he glanced\nat her, he saw her eyes gazing at him with such passionate and\ntriumphant tenderness as he had never seen in them.\n\n\"Wait a minute, you don't know ... stay a little, stay!...\" She stopped,\nas though collecting her ideas. \"Yes,\" she began; \"yes, yes, yes. This\nis what I wanted to say. Don't be surprised at me. I'm still the\nsame.... But there is another woman in me, I'm afraid of her: she loved\nthat man, and I tried to hate you, and could not forget about her that\nused to be. I'm not that woman. Now I'm my real self, all myself. I'm\ndying now, I know I shall die, ask him. Even now I feel--see here, the\nweights on my feet, on my hands, on my fingers. My fingers--see how huge\nthey are! But this will soon all be over.... Only one thing I want:\nforgive me, forgive me quite. I'm terrible, but my nurse used to tell\nme; the holy martyr--what was her name? She was worse. And I'll go to\nRome; there's a wilderness, and there I shall be no trouble to any one,\nonly I'll take Seryozha and the little one.... No, you can't forgive me!\nI know, it can't be forgiven! No, no, go away, you're too good!\" She\nheld his hand in one burning hand, while she pushed him away with the\nother.\n\nThe nervous agitation of Alexey Alexandrovitch kept increasing, and had\nby now reached such a point that he ceased to struggle with it. He\nsuddenly felt that what he had regarded as nervous agitation was on the\ncontrary a blissful spiritual condition that gave him all at once a new\nhappiness he had never known. He did not think that the Christian law\nthat he had been all his life trying to follow, enjoined on him to\nforgive and love his enemies; but a glad feeling of love and forgiveness\nfor his enemies filled his heart. He knelt down, and laying his head in\nthe curve of her arm, which burned him as with fire through the sleeve,\nhe sobbed like a little child. She put her arm around his head, moved\ntowards him, and with defiant pride lifted up her eyes.\n\n\"That is he. I knew him! Now, forgive me, everyone, forgive me!...\nThey've come again; why don't they go away?... Oh, take these cloaks off\nme!\"\n\nThe doctor unloosed her hands, carefully laying her on the pillow, and\ncovered her up to the shoulders. She lay back submissively, and looked\nbefore her with beaming eyes.\n\n\"Remember one thing, that I needed nothing but forgiveness, and I want\nnothing more.... Why doesn't _he_ come?\" she said, turning to the door\ntowards Vronsky. \"Do come, do come! Give him your hand.\"\n\nVronsky came to the side of the bed, and seeing Anna, again hid his face\nin his hands.\n\n\"Uncover your face--look at him! He's a saint,\" she said. \"Oh! uncover\nyour face, do uncover it!\" she said angrily. \"Alexey Alexandrovitch, do\nuncover his face! I want to see him.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch took Vronsky's hands and drew them away from his\nface, which was awful with the expression of agony and shame upon it.\n\n\"Give him your hand. Forgive him.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch gave him his hand, not attempting to restrain the\ntears that streamed from his eyes.\n\n\"Thank God, thank God!\" she said, \"now everything is ready. Only to\nstretch my legs a little. There, that's capital. How badly these flowers\nare done--not a bit like a violet,\" she said, pointing to the hangings.\n\"My God, my God! when will it end? Give me some morphine. Doctor, give\nme some morphine! Oh, my God, my God!\"\n\nAnd she tossed about on the bed.\n\nThe doctors said that it was puerperal fever, and that it was\nninety-nine chances in a hundred it would end in death. The whole day\nlong there was fever, delirium, and unconsciousness. At midnight the\npatient lay without consciousness, and almost without pulse.\n\nThe end was expected every minute.\n\nVronsky had gone home, but in the morning he came to inquire, and Alexey\nAlexandrovitch meeting him in the hall, said: \"Better stay, she might\nask for you,\" and himself led him to his wife's boudoir. Towards\nmorning, there was a return again of excitement, rapid thought and talk,\nand again it ended in unconsciousness. On the third day it was the same\nthing, and the doctors said there was hope. That day Alexey\nAlexandrovitch went into the boudoir where Vronsky was sitting, and\nclosing the door sat down opposite him.\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch,\" said Vronsky, feeling that a statement of the\nposition was coming, \"I can't speak, I can't understand. Spare me!\nHowever hard it is for you, believe me, it is more terrible for me.\"\n\nHe would have risen; but Alexey Alexandrovitch took him by the hand and\nsaid:\n\n\"I beg you to hear me out; it is necessary. I must explain my feelings,\nthe feelings that have guided me and will guide me, so that you may not\nbe in error regarding me. You know I had resolved on a divorce, and had\neven begun to take proceedings. I won't conceal from you that in\nbeginning this I was in uncertainty, I was in misery; I will confess\nthat I was pursued by a desire to revenge myself on you and on her. When\nI got the telegram, I came here with the same feelings; I will say more,\nI longed for her death. But....\" He paused, pondering whether to\ndisclose or not to disclose his feeling to him. \"But I saw her and\nforgave her. And the happiness of forgiveness has revealed to me my\nduty. I forgive completely. I would offer the other cheek, I would give\nmy cloak if my coat be taken. I pray to God only not to take from me the\nbliss of forgiveness!\"\n\nTears stood in his eyes, and the luminous, serene look in them impressed\nVronsky.\n\n\"This is my position: you can trample me in the mud, make me the\nlaughing-stock of the world, I will not abandon her, and I will never\nutter a word of reproach to you,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch went on. \"My\nduty is clearly marked for me; I ought to be with her, and I will be. If\nshe wishes to see you, I will let you know, but now I suppose it would\nbe better for you to go away.\"\n\nHe got up, and sobs cut short his words. Vronsky too was getting up, and\nin a stooping, not yet erect posture, looked up at him from under his\nbrows. He did not understand Alexey Alexandrovitch's feeling, but he\nfelt that it was something higher and even unattainable for him with his\nview of life.\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\n\nAfter the conversation with Alexey Alexandrovitch, Vronsky went out onto\nthe steps of the Karenins' house and stood still, with difficulty\nremembering where he was, and where he ought to walk or drive. He felt\ndisgraced, humiliated, guilty, and deprived of all possibility of\nwashing away his humiliation. He felt thrust out of the beaten track\nalong which he had so proudly and lightly walked till then. All the\nhabits and rules of his life that had seemed so firm, had turned out\nsuddenly false and inapplicable. The betrayed husband, who had figured\ntill that time as a pitiful creature, an incidental and somewhat\nludicrous obstacle to his happiness, had suddenly been summoned by her\nherself, elevated to an awe-inspiring pinnacle, and on the pinnacle that\nhusband had shown himself, not malignant, not false, not ludicrous, but\nkind and straightforward and large. Vronsky could not but feel this, and\nthe parts were suddenly reversed. Vronsky felt his elevation and his own\nabasement, his truth and his own falsehood. He felt that the husband was\nmagnanimous even in his sorrow, while he had been base and petty in his\ndeceit. But this sense of his own humiliation before the man he had\nunjustly despised made up only a small part of his misery. He felt\nunutterably wretched now, for his passion for Anna, which had seemed to\nhim of late to be growing cooler, now that he knew he had lost her\nforever, was stronger than ever it had been. He had seen all of her in\nher illness, had come to know her very soul, and it seemed to him that\nhe had never loved her till then. And now when he had learned to know\nher, to love her as she should be loved, he had been humiliated before\nher, and had lost her forever, leaving with her nothing of himself but a\nshameful memory. Most terrible of all had been his ludicrous, shameful\nposition when Alexey Alexandrovitch had pulled his hands away from his\nhumiliated face. He stood on the steps of the Karenins' house like one\ndistraught, and did not know what to do.\n\n\"A sledge, sir?\" asked the porter.\n\n\"Yes, a sledge.\"\n\nOn getting home, after three sleepless nights, Vronsky, without\nundressing, lay down flat on the sofa, clasping his hands and laying his\nhead on them. His head was heavy. Images, memories, and ideas of the\nstrangest description followed one another with extraordinary rapidity\nand vividness. First it was the medicine he had poured out for the\npatient and spilt over the spoon, then the midwife's white hands, then\nthe queer posture of Alexey Alexandrovitch on the floor beside the bed.\n\n\"To sleep! To forget!\" he said to himself with the serene confidence of\na healthy man that if he is tired and sleepy, he will go to sleep at\nonce. And the same instant his head did begin to feel drowsy and he\nbegan to drop off into forgetfulness. The waves of the sea of\nunconsciousness had begun to meet over his head, when all at once--it\nwas as though a violent shock of electricity had passed over him. He\nstarted so that he leaped up on the springs of the sofa, and leaning on\nhis arms got in a panic onto his knees. His eyes were wide open as\nthough he had never been asleep. The heaviness in his head and the\nweariness in his limbs that he had felt a minute before had suddenly\ngone.\n\n\"You may trample me in the mud,\" he heard Alexey Alexandrovitch's words\nand saw him standing before him, and saw Anna's face with its burning\nflush and glittering eyes, gazing with love and tenderness not at him\nbut at Alexey Alexandrovitch; he saw his own, as he fancied, foolish and\nludicrous figure when Alexey Alexandrovitch took his hands away from his\nface. He stretched out his legs again and flung himself on the sofa in\nthe same position and shut his eyes.\n\n\"To sleep! To forget!\" he repeated to himself. But with his eyes shut he\nsaw more distinctly than ever Anna's face as it had been on the\nmemorable evening before the races.\n\n\"That is not and will not be, and she wants to wipe it out of her\nmemory. But I cannot live without it. How can we be reconciled? how can\nwe be reconciled?\" he said aloud, and unconsciously began to repeat\nthese words. This repetition checked the rising up of fresh images and\nmemories, which he felt were thronging in his brain. But repeating words\ndid not check his imagination for long. Again in extraordinarily rapid\nsuccession his best moments rose before his mind, and then his recent\nhumiliation. \"Take away his hands,\" Anna's voice says. He takes away his\nhands and feels the shamestruck and idiotic expression of his face.\n\nHe still lay down, trying to sleep, though he felt there was not the\nsmallest hope of it, and kept repeating stray words from some chain of\nthought, trying by this to check the rising flood of fresh images. He\nlistened, and heard in a strange, mad whisper words repeated: \"I did not\nappreciate it, did not make enough of it. I did not appreciate it, did\nnot make enough of it.\"\n\n\"What's this? Am I going out of my mind?\" he said to himself. \"Perhaps.\nWhat makes men go out of their minds; what makes men shoot themselves?\"\nhe answered himself, and opening his eyes, he saw with wonder an\nembroidered cushion beside him, worked by Varya, his brother's wife. He\ntouched the tassel of the cushion, and tried to think of Varya, of when\nhe had seen her last. But to think of anything extraneous was an\nagonizing effort. \"No, I must sleep!\" He moved the cushion up, and\npressed his head into it, but he had to make an effort to keep his eyes\nshut. He jumped up and sat down. \"That's all over for me,\" he said to\nhimself. \"I must think what to do. What is left?\" His mind rapidly ran\nthrough his life apart from his love of Anna.\n\n\"Ambition? Serpuhovskoy? Society? The court?\" He could not come to a\npause anywhere. All of it had had meaning before, but now there was no\nreality in it. He got up from the sofa, took off his coat, undid his\nbelt, and uncovering his hairy chest to breathe more freely, walked up\nand down the room. \"This is how people go mad,\" he repeated, \"and how\nthey shoot themselves ... to escape humiliation,\" he added slowly.\n\nHe went to the door and closed it, then with fixed eyes and clenched\nteeth he went up to the table, took a revolver, looked round him, turned\nit to a loaded barrel, and sank into thought. For two minutes, his head\nbent forward with an expression of an intense effort of thought, he\nstood with the revolver in his hand, motionless, thinking.\n\n\"Of course,\" he said to himself, as though a logical, continuous, and\nclear chain of reasoning had brought him to an indubitable conclusion.\nIn reality this \"of course,\" that seemed convincing to him, was simply\nthe result of exactly the same circle of memories and images through\nwhich he had passed ten times already during the last hour--memories of\nhappiness lost forever. There was the same conception of the\nsenselessness of everything to come in life, the same consciousness of\nhumiliation. Even the sequence of these images and emotions was the\nsame.\n\n\"Of course,\" he repeated, when for the third time his thought passed\nagain round the same spellbound circle of memories and images, and\npulling the revolver to the left side of his chest, and clutching it\nvigorously with his whole hand, as it were, squeezing it in his fist, he\npulled the trigger. He did not hear the sound of the shot, but a violent\nblow on his chest sent him reeling. He tried to clutch at the edge of\nthe table, dropped the revolver, staggered, and sat down on the ground,\nlooking about him in astonishment. He did not recognize his room,\nlooking up from the ground, at the bent legs of the table, at the\nwastepaper basket, and the tiger-skin rug. The hurried, creaking steps\nof his servant coming through the drawing room brought him to his\nsenses. He made an effort at thought, and was aware that he was on the\nfloor; and seeing blood on the tiger-skin rug and on his arm, he knew he\nhad shot himself.\n\n\"Idiotic! Missed!\" he said, fumbling after the revolver. The revolver\nwas close beside him--he sought further off. Still feeling for it, he\nstretched out to the other side, and not being strong enough to keep his\nbalance, fell over, streaming with blood.\n\nThe elegant, whiskered manservant, who used to be continually\ncomplaining to his acquaintances of the delicacy of his nerves, was so\npanic-stricken on seeing his master lying on the floor, that he left him\nlosing blood while he ran for assistance. An hour later Varya, his\nbrother's wife, had arrived, and with the assistance of three doctors,\nwhom she had sent for in all directions, and who all appeared at the\nsame moment, she got the wounded man to bed, and remained to nurse him.\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\n\nThe mistake made by Alexey Alexandrovitch in that, when preparing for\nseeing his wife, he had overlooked the possibility that her repentance\nmight be sincere, and he might forgive her, and she might not die--this\nmistake was two months after his return from Moscow brought home to him\nin all its significance. But the mistake made by him had arisen not\nsimply from his having overlooked that contingency, but also from the\nfact that until that day of his interview with his dying wife, he had\nnot known his own heart. At his sick wife's bedside he had for the first\ntime in his life given way to that feeling of sympathetic suffering\nalways roused in him by the sufferings of others, and hitherto looked on\nby him with shame as a harmful weakness. And pity for her, and remorse\nfor having desired her death, and most of all, the joy of forgiveness,\nmade him at once conscious, not simply of the relief of his own\nsufferings, but of a spiritual peace he had never experienced before. He\nsuddenly felt that the very thing that was the source of his sufferings\nhad become the source of his spiritual joy; that what had seemed\ninsoluble while he was judging, blaming, and hating, had become clear\nand simple when he forgave and loved.\n\nHe forgave his wife and pitied her for her sufferings and her remorse.\nHe forgave Vronsky, and pitied him, especially after reports reached him\nof his despairing action. He felt more for his son than before. And he\nblamed himself now for having taken too little interest in him. But for\nthe little newborn baby he felt a quite peculiar sentiment, not of pity,\nonly, but of tenderness. At first, from a feeling of compassion alone,\nhe had been interested in the delicate little creature, who was not his\nchild, and who was cast on one side during her mother's illness, and\nwould certainly have died if he had not troubled about her, and he did\nnot himself observe how fond he became of her. He would go into the\nnursery several times a day, and sit there for a long while, so that the\nnurses, who were at first afraid of him, got quite used to his presence.\nSometimes for half an hour at a stretch he would sit silently gazing at\nthe saffron-red, downy, wrinkled face of the sleeping baby, watching the\nmovements of the frowning brows, and the fat little hands, with clenched\nfingers, that rubbed the little eyes and nose. At such moments\nparticularly, Alexey Alexandrovitch had a sense of perfect peace and\ninward harmony, and saw nothing extraordinary in his position, nothing\nthat ought to be changed.\n\nBut as time went on, he saw more and more distinctly that however\nnatural the position now seemed to him, he would not long be allowed to\nremain in it. He felt that besides the blessed spiritual force\ncontrolling his soul, there was another, a brutal force, as powerful, or\nmore powerful, which controlled his life, and that this force would not\nallow him that humble peace he longed for. He felt that everyone was\nlooking at him with inquiring wonder, that he was not understood, and\nthat something was expected of him. Above all, he felt the instability\nand unnaturalness of his relations with his wife.\n\nWhen the softening effect of the near approach of death had passed away,\nAlexey Alexandrovitch began to notice that Anna was afraid of him, ill\nat ease with him, and could not look him straight in the face. She\nseemed to be wanting, and not daring, to tell him something; and as\nthough foreseeing their present relations could not continue, she seemed\nto be expecting something from him.\n\nTowards the end of February it happened that Anna's baby daughter, who\nhad been named Anna too, fell ill. Alexey Alexandrovitch was in the\nnursery in the morning, and leaving orders for the doctor to be sent\nfor, he went to his office. On finishing his work, he returned home at\nfour. Going into the hall he saw a handsome groom, in a braided livery\nand a bear fur cape, holding a white fur cloak.\n\n\"Who is here?\" asked Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"Princess Elizaveta Federovna Tverskaya,\" the groom answered, and it\nseemed to Alexey Alexandrovitch that he grinned.\n\nDuring all this difficult time Alexey Alexandrovitch had noticed that\nhis worldly acquaintances, especially women, took a peculiar interest in\nhim and his wife. All these acquaintances he observed with difficulty\nconcealing their mirth at something; the same mirth that he had\nperceived in the lawyer's eyes, and just now in the eyes of this groom.\nEveryone seemed, somehow, hugely delighted, as though they had just been\nat a wedding. When they met him, with ill-disguised enjoyment they\ninquired after his wife's health. The presence of Princess Tverskaya was\nunpleasant to Alexey Alexandrovitch from the memories associated with\nher, and also because he disliked her, and he went straight to the\nnursery. In the day nursery Seryozha, leaning on the table with his legs\non a chair, was drawing and chatting away merrily. The English\ngoverness, who had during Anna's illness replaced the French one, was\nsitting near the boy knitting a shawl. She hurriedly got up, curtseyed,\nand pulled Seryozha.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch stroked his son's hair, answered the governess's\ninquiries about his wife, and asked what the doctor had said of the\nbaby.\n\n\"The doctor said it was nothing serious, and he ordered a bath, sir.\"\n\n\"But she is still in pain,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, listening to the\nbaby's screaming in the next room.\n\n\"I think it's the wet-nurse, sir,\" the Englishwoman said firmly.\n\n\"What makes you think so?\" he asked, stopping short.\n\n\"It's just as it was at Countess Paul's, sir. They gave the baby\nmedicine, and it turned out that the baby was simply hungry: the nurse\nhad no milk, sir.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch pondered, and after standing still a few seconds\nhe went in at the other door. The baby was lying with its head thrown\nback, stiffening itself in the nurse's arms, and would not take the\nplump breast offered it; and it never ceased screaming in spite of the\ndouble hushing of the wet-nurse and the other nurse, who was bending\nover her.\n\n\"Still no better?\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"She's very restless,\" answered the nurse in a whisper.\n\n\"Miss Edwarde says that perhaps the wet-nurse has no milk,\" he said.\n\n\"I think so too, Alexey Alexandrovitch.\"\n\n\"Then why didn't you say so?\"\n\n\"Who's one to say it to? Anna Arkadyevna still ill...\" said the nurse\ndiscontentedly.\n\nThe nurse was an old servant of the family. And in her simple words\nthere seemed to Alexey Alexandrovitch an allusion to his position.\n\nThe baby screamed louder than ever, struggling and sobbing. The nurse,\nwith a gesture of despair, went to it, took it from the wet-nurse's\narms, and began walking up and down, rocking it.\n\n\"You must ask the doctor to examine the wet-nurse,\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch. The smartly dressed and healthy-looking nurse,\nfrightened at the idea of losing her place, muttered something to\nherself, and covering her bosom, smiled contemptuously at the idea of\ndoubts being cast on her abundance of milk. In that smile, too, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch saw a sneer at his position.\n\n\"Luckless child!\" said the nurse, hushing the baby, and still walking up\nand down with it.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch sat down, and with a despondent and suffering face\nwatched the nurse walking to and fro.\n\nWhen the child at last was still, and had been put in a deep bed, and\nthe nurse, after smoothing the little pillow, had left her, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch got up, and walking awkwardly on tiptoe, approached the\nbaby. For a minute he was still, and with the same despondent face gazed\nat the baby; but all at once a smile, that moved his hair and the skin\nof his forehead, came out on his face, and he went as softly out of the\nroom.\n\nIn the dining room he rang the bell, and told the servant who came in to\nsend again for the doctor. He felt vexed with his wife for not being\nanxious about this exquisite baby, and in this vexed humor he had no\nwish to go to her; he had no wish, either, to see Princess Betsy. But\nhis wife might wonder why he did not go to her as usual; and so,\novercoming his disinclination, he went towards the bedroom. As he walked\nover the soft rug towards the door, he could not help overhearing a\nconversation he did not want to hear.\n\n\"If he hadn't been going away, I could have understood your answer and\nhis too. But your husband ought to be above that,\" Betsy was saying.\n\n\"It's not for my husband; for myself I don't wish it. Don't say that!\"\nanswered Anna's excited voice.\n\n\"Yes, but you must care to say good-bye to a man who has shot himself on\nyour account....\"\n\n\"That's just why I don't want to.\"\n\nWith a dismayed and guilty expression, Alexey Alexandrovitch stopped and\nwould have gone back unobserved. But reflecting that this would be\nundignified, he turned back again, and clearing his throat, he went up\nto the bedroom. The voices were silent, and he went in.\n\nAnna, in a gray dressing gown, with a crop of short clustering black\ncurls on her round head, was sitting on a settee. The eagerness died out\nof her face, as it always did, at the sight of her husband; she dropped\nher head and looked round uneasily at Betsy. Betsy, dressed in the\nheight of the latest fashion, in a hat that towered somewhere over her\nhead like a shade on a lamp, in a blue dress with violet crossway\nstripes slanting one way on the bodice and the other way on the skirt,\nwas sitting beside Anna, her tall flat figure held erect. Bowing her\nhead, she greeted Alexey Alexandrovitch with an ironical smile.\n\n\"Ah!\" she said, as though surprised. \"I'm very glad you're at home. You\nnever put in an appearance anywhere, and I haven't seen you ever since\nAnna has been ill. I have heard all about it--your anxiety. Yes, you're\na wonderful husband!\" she said, with a meaning and affable air, as\nthough she were bestowing an order of magnanimity on him for his conduct\nto his wife.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch bowed frigidly, and kissing his wife's hand, asked\nhow she was.\n\n\"Better, I think,\" she said, avoiding his eyes.\n\n\"But you've rather a feverish-looking color,\" he said, laying stress on\nthe word \"feverish.\"\n\n\"We've been talking too much,\" said Betsy. \"I feel it's selfishness on\nmy part, and I am going away.\"\n\nShe got up, but Anna, suddenly flushing, quickly caught at her hand.\n\n\"No, wait a minute, please. I must tell you ... no, you.\" she turned to\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, and her neck and brow were suffused with crimson.\n\"I won't and can't keep anything secret from you,\" she said.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch cracked his fingers and bowed his head.\n\n\"Betsy's been telling me that Count Vronsky wants to come here to say\ngood-bye before his departure for Tashkend.\" She did not look at her\nhusband, and was evidently in haste to have everything out, however hard\nit might be for her. \"I told her I could not receive him.\"\n\n\"You said, my dear, that it would depend on Alexey Alexandrovitch,\"\nBetsy corrected her.\n\n\"Oh, no, I can't receive him; and what object would there....\" She\nstopped suddenly, and glanced inquiringly at her husband (he did not\nlook at her). \"In short, I don't wish it....\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch advanced and would have taken her hand.\n\nHer first impulse was to jerk back her hand from the damp hand with big\nswollen veins that sought hers, but with an obvious effort to control\nherself she pressed his hand.\n\n\"I am very grateful to you for your confidence, but...\" he said, feeling\nwith confusion and annoyance that what he could decide easily and\nclearly by himself, he could not discuss before Princess Tverskaya, who\nto him stood for the incarnation of that brute force which would\ninevitably control him in the life he led in the eyes of the world, and\nhinder him from giving way to his feeling of love and forgiveness. He\nstopped short, looking at Princess Tverskaya.\n\n\"Well, good-bye, my darling,\" said Betsy, getting up. She kissed Anna,\nand went out. Alexey Alexandrovitch escorted her out.\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch! I know you are a truly magnanimous man,\" said\nBetsy, stopping in the little drawing-room, and with special warmth\nshaking hands with him once more. \"I am an outsider, but I so love her\nand respect you that I venture to advise. Receive him. Alexey Vronsky is\nthe soul of honor, and he is going away to Tashkend.\"\n\n\"Thank you, princess, for your sympathy and advice. But the question of\nwhether my wife can or cannot see anyone she must decide herself.\"\n\nHe said this from habit, lifting his brows with dignity, and reflected\nimmediately that whatever his words might be, there could be no dignity\nin his position. And he saw this by the suppressed, malicious, and\nironical smile with which Betsy glanced at him after this phrase.\n\n\n\nChapter 20\n\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch took leave of Betsy in the drawing room, and went\nto his wife. She was lying down, but hearing his steps she sat up\nhastily in her former attitude, and looked in a scared way at him. He\nsaw she had been crying.\n\n\"I am very grateful for your confidence in me.\" He repeated gently in\nRussian the phrase he had said in Betsy's presence in French, and sat\ndown beside her. When he spoke to her in Russian, using the Russian\n\"thou\" of intimacy and affection, it was insufferably irritating to\nAnna. \"And I am very grateful for your decision. I, too, imagine that\nsince he is going away, there is no sort of necessity for Count Vronsky\nto come here. However, if...\"\n\n\"But I've said so already, so why repeat it?\" Anna suddenly interrupted\nhim with an irritation she could not succeed in repressing. \"No sort of\nnecessity,\" she thought, \"for a man to come and say good-bye to the\nwoman he loves, for whom he was ready to ruin himself, and has ruined\nhimself, and who cannot live without him. No sort of necessity!\" she\ncompressed her lips, and dropped her burning eyes to his hands with\ntheir swollen veins. They were rubbing each other.\n\n\"Let us never speak of it,\" she added more calmly.\n\n\"I have left this question to you to decide, and I am very glad to\nsee...\" Alexey Alexandrovitch was beginning.\n\n\"That my wish coincides with your own,\" she finished quickly,\nexasperated at his talking so slowly while she knew beforehand all he\nwould say.\n\n\"Yes,\" he assented; \"and Princess Tverskaya's interference in the most\ndifficult private affairs is utterly uncalled for. She especially...\"\n\n\"I don't believe a word of what's said about her,\" said Anna quickly. \"I\nknow she really cares for me.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch sighed and said nothing. She played nervously with\nthe tassel of her dressing-gown, glancing at him with that torturing\nsensation of physical repulsion for which she blamed herself, though she\ncould not control it. Her only desire now was to be rid of his\noppressive presence.\n\n\"I have just sent for the doctor,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"I am very well; what do I want the doctor for?\"\n\n\"No, the little one cries, and they say the nurse hasn't enough milk.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you let me nurse her, when I begged to? Anyway\" (Alexey\nAlexandrovitch knew what was meant by that \"anyway\"), \"she's a baby, and\nthey're killing her.\" She rang the bell and ordered the baby to be\nbrought her. \"I begged to nurse her, I wasn't allowed to, and now I'm\nblamed for it.\"\n\n\"I don't blame...\"\n\n\"Yes, you do blame me! My God! why didn't I die!\" And she broke into\nsobs. \"Forgive me, I'm nervous, I'm unjust,\" she said, controlling\nherself, \"but do go away...\"\n\n\"No, it can't go on like this,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch said to himself\ndecidedly as he left his wife's room.\n\nNever had the impossibility of his position in the world's eyes, and his\nwife's hatred of him, and altogether the might of that mysterious brutal\nforce that guided his life against his spiritual inclinations, and\nexacted conformity with its decrees and change in his attitude to his\nwife, been presented to him with such distinctness as that day. He saw\nclearly that all the world and his wife expected of him something, but\nwhat exactly, he could not make out. He felt that this was rousing in\nhis soul a feeling of anger destructive of his peace of mind and of all\nthe good of his achievement. He believed that for Anna herself it would\nbe better to break off all relations with Vronsky; but if they all\nthought this out of the question, he was even ready to allow these\nrelations to be renewed, so long as the children were not disgraced, and\nhe was not deprived of them nor forced to change his position. Bad as\nthis might be, it was anyway better than a rupture, which would put her\nin a hopeless and shameful position, and deprive him of everything he\ncared for. But he felt helpless; he knew beforehand that every one was\nagainst him, and that he would not be allowed to do what seemed to him\nnow so natural and right, but would be forced to do what was wrong,\nthough it seemed the proper thing to them.\n\n\n\nChapter 21\n\n\nBefore Betsy had time to walk out of the drawing-room, she was met in\nthe doorway by Stepan Arkadyevitch, who had just come from Yeliseev's,\nwhere a consignment of fresh oysters had been received.\n\n\"Ah! princess! what a delightful meeting!\" he began. \"I've been to see\nyou.\"\n\n\"A meeting for one minute, for I'm going,\" said Betsy, smiling and\nputting on her glove.\n\n\"Don't put on your glove yet, princess; let me kiss your hand. There's\nnothing I'm so thankful to the revival of the old fashions for as the\nkissing the hand.\" He kissed Betsy's hand. \"When shall we see each\nother?\"\n\n\"You don't deserve it,\" answered Betsy, smiling.\n\n\"Oh, yes, I deserve a great deal, for I've become a most serious person.\nI don't only manage my own affairs, but other people's too,\" he said,\nwith a significant expression.\n\n\"Oh, I'm so glad!\" answered Betsy, at once understanding that he was\nspeaking of Anna. And going back into the drawing room, they stood in a\ncorner. \"He's killing her,\" said Betsy in a whisper full of meaning.\n\"It's impossible, impossible...\"\n\n\"I'm so glad you think so,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, shaking his head\nwith a serious and sympathetically distressed expression, \"that's what\nI've come to Petersburg for.\"\n\n\"The whole town's talking of it,\" she said. \"It's an impossible\nposition. She pines and pines away. He doesn't understand that she's one\nof those women who can't trifle with their feelings. One of two things:\neither let him take her away, act with energy, or give her a divorce.\nThis is stifling her.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes ... just so...\" Oblonsky said, sighing. \"That's what I've come\nfor. At least not solely for that ... I've been made a _Kammerherr_; of\ncourse, one has to say thank you. But the chief thing was having to\nsettle this.\"\n\n\"Well, God help you!\" said Betsy.\n\nAfter accompanying Betsy to the outside hall, once more kissing her hand\nabove the glove, at the point where the pulse beats, and murmuring to\nher such unseemly nonsense that she did not know whether to laugh or be\nangry, Stepan Arkadyevitch went to his sister. He found her in tears.\n\nAlthough he happened to be bubbling over with good spirits, Stepan\nArkadyevitch immediately and quite naturally fell into the sympathetic,\npoetically emotional tone which harmonized with her mood. He asked her\nhow she was, and how she had spent the morning.\n\n\"Very, very miserably. Today and this morning and all past days and days\nto come,\" she said.\n\n\"I think you're giving way to pessimism. You must rouse yourself, you\nmust look life in the face. I know it's hard, but...\"\n\n\"I have heard it said that women love men even for their vices,\" Anna\nbegan suddenly, \"but I hate him for his virtues. I can't live with him.\nDo you understand? the sight of him has a physical effect on me, it\nmakes me beside myself. I can't, I can't live with him. What am I to do?\nI have been unhappy, and used to think one couldn't be more unhappy, but\nthe awful state of things I am going through now, I could never have\nconceived. Would you believe it, that knowing he's a good man, a\nsplendid man, that I'm not worth his little finger, still I hate him. I\nhate him for his generosity. And there's nothing left for me but...\"\n\nShe would have said death, but Stepan Arkadyevitch would not let her\nfinish.\n\n\"You are ill and overwrought,\" he said; \"believe me, you're exaggerating\ndreadfully. There's nothing so terrible in it.\"\n\nAnd Stepan Arkadyevitch smiled. No one else in Stepan Arkadyevitch's\nplace, having to do with such despair, would have ventured to smile (the\nsmile would have seemed brutal); but in his smile there was so much of\nsweetness and almost feminine tenderness that his smile did not wound,\nbut softened and soothed. His gentle, soothing words and smiles were as\nsoothing and softening as almond oil. And Anna soon felt this.\n\n\"No, Stiva,\" she said, \"I'm lost, lost! worse than lost! I can't say yet\nthat all is over; on the contrary, I feel that it's not over. I'm an\noverstrained string that must snap. But it's not ended yet ... and it\nwill have a fearful end.\"\n\n\"No matter, we must let the string be loosened, little by little.\nThere's no position from which there is no way of escape.\"\n\n\"I have thought, and thought. Only one...\"\n\nAgain he knew from her terrified eyes that this one way of escape in her\nthought was death, and he would not let her say it.\n\n\"Not at all,\" he said. \"Listen to me. You can't see your own position as\nI can. Let me tell you candidly my opinion.\" Again he smiled discreetly\nhis almond-oil smile. \"I'll begin from the beginning. You married a man\ntwenty years older than yourself. You married him without love and not\nknowing what love was. It was a mistake, let's admit.\"\n\n\"A fearful mistake!\" said Anna.\n\n\"But I repeat, it's an accomplished fact. Then you had, let us say, the\nmisfortune to love a man not your husband. That was a misfortune; but\nthat, too, is an accomplished fact. And your husband knew it and forgave\nit.\" He stopped at each sentence, waiting for her to object, but she\nmade no answer. \"That's so. Now the question is: can you go on living\nwith your husband? Do you wish it? Does he wish it?\"\n\n\"I know nothing, nothing.\"\n\n\"But you said yourself that you can't endure him.\"\n\n\"No, I didn't say so. I deny it. I can't tell, I don't know anything\nabout it.\"\n\n\"Yes, but let...\"\n\n\"You can't understand. I feel I'm lying head downwards in a sort of pit,\nbut I ought not to save myself. And I can't . . .\"\n\n\"Never mind, we'll slip something under and pull you out. I understand\nyou: I understand that you can't take it on yourself to express your\nwishes, your feelings.\"\n\n\"There's nothing, nothing I wish ... except for it to be all over.\"\n\n\"But he sees this and knows it. And do you suppose it weighs on him any\nless than on you? You're wretched, he's wretched, and what good can come\nof it? while divorce would solve the difficulty completely.\" With some\neffort Stepan Arkadyevitch brought out his central idea, and looked\nsignificantly at her.\n\nShe said nothing, and shook her cropped head in dissent. But from the\nlook in her face, that suddenly brightened into its old beauty, he saw\nthat if she did not desire this, it was simply because it seemed to her\nunattainable happiness.\n\n\"I'm awfully sorry for you! And how happy I should be if I could arrange\nthings!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling more boldly. \"Don't speak,\ndon't say a word! God grant only that I may speak as I feel. I'm going\nto him.\"\n\nAnna looked at him with dreamy, shining eyes, and said nothing.\n\n\n\nChapter 22\n\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch, with the same somewhat solemn expression with which\nhe used to take his presidential chair at his board, walked into Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's room. Alexey Alexandrovitch was walking about his room\nwith his hands behind his back, thinking of just what Stepan\nArkadyevitch had been discussing with his wife.\n\n\"I'm not interrupting you?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, on the sight of\nhis brother-in-law becoming suddenly aware of a sense of embarrassment\nunusual with him. To conceal this embarrassment he took out a cigarette\ncase he had just bought that opened in a new way, and sniffing the\nleather, took a cigarette out of it.\n\n\"No. Do you want anything?\" Alexey Alexandrovitch asked without\neagerness.\n\n\"Yes, I wished ... I wanted ... yes, I wanted to talk to you,\" said\nStepan Arkadyevitch, with surprise aware of an unaccustomed timidity.\n\nThis feeling was so unexpected and so strange that he did not believe it\nwas the voice of conscience telling him that what he was meaning to do\nwas wrong.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch made an effort and struggled with the timidity that\nhad come over him.\n\n\"I hope you believe in my love for my sister and my sincere affection\nand respect for you,\" he said, reddening.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch stood still and said nothing, but his face struck\nStepan Arkadyevitch by its expression of an unresisting sacrifice.\n\n\"I intended ... I wanted to have a little talk with you about my sister\nand your mutual position,\" he said, still struggling with an\nunaccustomed constraint.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch smiled mournfully, looked at his brother-in-law,\nand without answering went up to the table, took from it an unfinished\nletter, and handed it to his brother-in-law.\n\n\"I think unceasingly of the same thing. And here is what I had begun\nwriting, thinking I could say it better by letter, and that my presence\nirritates her,\" he said, as he gave him the letter.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch took the letter, looked with incredulous surprise at\nthe lusterless eyes fixed so immovably on him, and began to read.\n\n\"I see that my presence is irksome to you. Painful as it is to me to\nbelieve it, I see that it is so, and cannot be otherwise. I don't blame\nyou, and God is my witness that on seeing you at the time of your\nillness I resolved with my whole heart to forget all that had passed\nbetween us and to begin a new life. I do not regret, and shall never\nregret, what I have done; but I have desired one thing--your good, the\ngood of your soul--and now I see I have not attained that. Tell me\nyourself what will give you true happiness and peace to your soul. I put\nmyself entirely in your hands, and trust to your feeling of what's\nright.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch handed back the letter, and with the same surprise\ncontinued looking at his brother-in-law, not knowing what to say. This\nsilence was so awkward for both of them that Stepan Arkadyevitch's lips\nbegan twitching nervously, while he still gazed without speaking at\nKarenin's face.\n\n\"That's what I wanted to say to her,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch,\nturning away.\n\n\"Yes, yes...\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, not able to answer for the tears\nthat were choking him.\n\n\"Yes, yes, I understand you,\" he brought out at last.\n\n\"I want to know what she would like,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"I am afraid she does not understand her own position. She is not a\njudge,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, recovering himself. \"She is crushed,\nsimply crushed by your generosity. If she were to read this letter, she\nwould be incapable of saying anything, she would only hang her head\nlower than ever.\"\n\n\"Yes, but what's to be done in that case? how explain, how find out her\nwishes?\"\n\n\"If you will allow me to give my opinion, I think that it lies with you\nto point out directly the steps you consider necessary to end the\nposition.\"\n\n\"So you consider it must be ended?\" Alexey Alexandrovitch interrupted\nhim. \"But how?\" he added, with a gesture of his hands before his eyes\nnot usual with him. \"I see no possible way out of it.\"\n\n\"There is some way of getting out of every position,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, standing up and becoming more cheerful. \"There was a time\nwhen you thought of breaking off.... If you are convinced now that you\ncannot make each other happy...\"\n\n\"Happiness may be variously understood. But suppose that I agree to\neverything, that I want nothing: what way is there of getting out of our\nposition?\"\n\n\"If you care to know my opinion,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch with the same\nsmile of softening, almond-oil tenderness with which he had been talking\nto Anna. His kindly smile was so winning that Alexey Alexandrovitch,\nfeeling his own weakness and unconsciously swayed by it, was ready to\nbelieve what Stepan Arkadyevitch was saying.\n\n\"She will never speak out about it. But one thing is possible, one thing\nshe might desire,\" he went on, \"that is the cessation of your relations\nand all memories associated with them. To my thinking, in your position\nwhat's essential is the formation of a new attitude to one another. And\nthat can only rest on a basis of freedom on both sides.\"\n\n\"Divorce,\" Alexey Alexandrovitch interrupted, in a tone of aversion.\n\n\"Yes, I imagine that divorce--yes, divorce,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch\nrepeated, reddening. \"That is from every point of view the most rational\ncourse for married people who find themselves in the position you are\nin. What can be done if married people find that life is impossible for\nthem together? That may always happen.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch sighed heavily and closed his eyes.\n\n\"There's only one point to be considered: is either of the parties\ndesirous of forming new ties? If not, it is very simple,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, feeling more and more free from constraint.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, scowling with emotion, muttered something to\nhimself, and made no answer. All that seemed so simple to Stepan\nArkadyevitch, Alexey Alexandrovitch had thought over thousands of times.\nAnd, so far from being simple, it all seemed to him utterly impossible.\nDivorce, the details of which he knew by this time, seemed to him now\nout of the question, because the sense of his own dignity and respect\nfor religion forbade his taking upon himself a fictitious charge of\nadultery, and still more suffering his wife, pardoned and beloved by\nhim, to be caught in the fact and put to public shame. Divorce appeared\nto him impossible also on other still more weighty grounds.\n\nWhat would become of his son in case of a divorce? To leave him with his\nmother was out of the question. The divorced mother would have her own\nillegitimate family, in which his position as a stepson and his\neducation would not be good. Keep him with him? He knew that would be an\nact of vengeance on his part, and that he did not want. But apart from\nthis, what more than all made divorce seem impossible to Alexey\nAlexandrovitch was, that by consenting to a divorce he would be\ncompletely ruining Anna. The saying of Darya Alexandrovna at Moscow,\nthat in deciding on a divorce he was thinking of himself, and not\nconsidering that by this he would be ruining her irrevocably, had sunk\ninto his heart. And connecting this saying with his forgiveness of her,\nwith his devotion to the children, he understood it now in his own way.\nTo consent to a divorce, to give her her freedom, meant in his thoughts\nto take from himself the last tie that bound him to life--the children\nwhom he loved; and to take from her the last prop that stayed her on the\npath of right, to thrust her down to her ruin. If she were divorced, he\nknew she would join her life to Vronsky's, and their tie would be an\nillegitimate and criminal one, since a wife, by the interpretation of\nthe ecclesiastical law, could not marry while her husband was living.\n\"She will join him, and in a year or two he will throw her over, or she\nwill form a new tie,\" thought Alexey Alexandrovitch. \"And I, by agreeing\nto an unlawful divorce, shall be to blame for her ruin.\" He had thought\nit all over hundreds of times, and was convinced that a divorce was not\nat all simple, as Stepan Arkadyevitch had said, but was utterly\nimpossible. He did not believe a single word Stepan Arkadyevitch said to\nhim; to every word he had a thousand objections to make, but he listened\nto him, feeling that his words were the expression of that mighty brutal\nforce which controlled his life and to which he would have to submit.\n\n\"The only question is on what terms you agree to give her a divorce. She\ndoes not want anything, does not dare ask you for anything, she leaves\nit all to your generosity.\"\n\n\"My God, my God! what for?\" thought Alexey Alexandrovitch, remembering\nthe details of divorce proceedings in which the husband took the blame\non himself, and with just the same gesture with which Vronsky had done\nthe same, he hid his face for shame in his hands.\n\n\"You are distressed, I understand that. But if you think it over...\"\n\n\"Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other\nalso; and if any man take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also,\"\nthought Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" he cried in a shrill voice. \"I will take the disgrace on\nmyself, I will give up even my son, but ... but wouldn't it be better to\nlet it alone? Still you may do as you like...\"\n\nAnd turning away so that his brother-in-law could not see him, he sat\ndown on a chair at the window. There was bitterness, there was shame in\nhis heart, but with bitterness and shame he felt joy and emotion at the\nheight of his own meekness.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was touched. He was silent for a space.\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch, believe me, she appreciates your generosity,\" he\nsaid. \"But it seems it was the will of God,\" he added, and as he said it\nfelt how foolish a remark it was, and with difficulty repressed a smile\nat his own foolishness.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch would have made some reply, but tears stopped him.\n\n\"This is an unhappy fatality, and one must accept it as such. I accept\nthe calamity as an accomplished fact, and am doing my best to help both\nher and you,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\nWhen he went out of his brother-in-law's room he was touched, but that\ndid not prevent him from being glad he had successfully brought the\nmatter to a conclusion, for he felt certain Alexey Alexandrovitch would\nnot go back on his words. To this satisfaction was added the fact that\nan idea had just struck him for a riddle turning on his successful\nachievement, that when the affair was over he would ask his wife and\nmost intimate friends. He put this riddle into two or three different\nways. \"But I'll work it out better than that,\" he said to himself with a\nsmile.\n\n\n\nChapter 23\n\n\nVronsky's wound had been a dangerous one, though it did not touch the\nheart, and for several days he had lain between life and death. The\nfirst time he was able to speak, Varya, his brother's wife, was alone in\nthe room.\n\n\"Varya,\" he said, looking sternly at her, \"I shot myself by accident.\nAnd please never speak of it, and tell everyone so. Or else it's too\nridiculous.\"\n\nWithout answering his words, Varya bent over him, and with a delighted\nsmile gazed into his face. His eyes were clear, not feverish; but their\nexpression was stern.\n\n\"Thank God!\" she said. \"You're not in pain?\"\n\n\"A little here.\" He pointed to his breast.\n\n\"Then let me change your bandages.\"\n\nIn silence, stiffening his broad jaws, he looked at her while she\nbandaged him up. When she had finished he said:\n\n\"I'm not delirious. Please manage that there may be no talk of my having\nshot myself on purpose.\"\n\n\"No one does say so. Only I hope you won't shoot yourself by accident\nany more,\" she said, with a questioning smile.\n\n\"Of course I won't, but it would have been better...\"\n\nAnd he smiled gloomily.\n\nIn spite of these words and this smile, which so frightened Varya, when\nthe inflammation was over and he began to recover, he felt that he was\ncompletely free from one part of his misery. By his action he had, as it\nwere, washed away the shame and humiliation he had felt before. He could\nnow think calmly of Alexey Alexandrovitch. He recognized all his\nmagnanimity, but he did not now feel himself humiliated by it. Besides,\nhe got back again into the beaten track of his life. He saw the\npossibility of looking men in the face again without shame, and he could\nlive in accordance with his own habits. One thing he could not pluck out\nof his heart, though he never ceased struggling with it, was the regret,\namounting to despair, that he had lost her forever. That now, having\nexpiated his sin against the husband, he was bound to renounce her, and\nnever in future to stand between her with her repentance and her\nhusband, he had firmly decided in his heart; but he could not tear out\nof his heart his regret at the loss of her love, he could not erase from\nhis memory those moments of happiness that he had so little prized at\nthe time, and that haunted him in all their charm.\n\nSerpuhovskoy had planned his appointment at Tashkend, and Vronsky agreed\nto the proposition without the slightest hesitation. But the nearer the\ntime of departure came, the bitterer was the sacrifice he was making to\nwhat he thought his duty.\n\nHis wound had healed, and he was driving about making preparations for\nhis departure for Tashkend.\n\n\"To see her once and then to bury myself, to die,\" he thought, and as he\nwas paying farewell visits, he uttered this thought to Betsy. Charged\nwith this commission, Betsy had gone to Anna, and brought him back a\nnegative reply.\n\n\"So much the better,\" thought Vronsky, when he received the news. \"It\nwas a weakness, which would have shattered what strength I have left.\"\n\nNext day Betsy herself came to him in the morning, and announced that\nshe had heard through Oblonsky as a positive fact that Alexey\nAlexandrovitch had agreed to a divorce, and that therefore Vronsky could\nsee Anna.\n\nWithout even troubling himself to see Betsy out of his flat, forgetting\nall his resolutions, without asking when he could see her, where her\nhusband was, Vronsky drove straight to the Karenins'. He ran up the\nstairs seeing no one and nothing, and with a rapid step, almost breaking\ninto a run, he went into her room. And without considering, without\nnoticing whether there was anyone in the room or not, he flung his arms\nround her, and began to cover her face, her hands, her neck with kisses.\n\nAnna had been preparing herself for this meeting, had thought what she\nwould say to him, but she did not succeed in saying anything of it; his\npassion mastered her. She tried to calm him, to calm herself, but it was\ntoo late. His feeling infected her. Her lips trembled so that for a long\nwhile she could say nothing.\n\n\"Yes, you have conquered me, and I am yours,\" she said at last, pressing\nhis hands to her bosom.\n\n\"So it had to be,\" he said. \"So long as we live, it must be so. I know\nit now.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" she said, getting whiter and whiter, and embracing his\nhead. \"Still there is something terrible in it after all that has\nhappened.\"\n\n\"It will all pass, it will all pass; we shall be so happy. Our love, if\nit could be stronger, will be strengthened by there being something\nterrible in it,\" he said, lifting his head and parting his strong teeth\nin a smile.\n\nAnd she could not but respond with a smile--not to his words, but to the\nlove in his eyes. She took his hand and stroked her chilled cheeks and\ncropped head with it.\n\n\"I don't know you with this short hair. You've grown so pretty. A boy.\nBut how pale you are!\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm very weak,\" she said, smiling. And her lips began trembling\nagain.\n\n\"We'll go to Italy; you will get strong,\" he said.\n\n\"Can it be possible we could be like husband and wife, alone, your\nfamily with you?\" she said, looking close into his eyes.\n\n\"It only seems strange to me that it can ever have been otherwise.\"\n\n\"Stiva says that _he_ has agreed to everything, but I can't accept _his_\ngenerosity,\" she said, looking dreamily past Vronsky's face. \"I don't\nwant a divorce; it's all the same to me now. Only I don't know what he\nwill decide about Seryozha.\"\n\nHe could not conceive how at this moment of their meeting she could\nremember and think of her son, of divorce. What did it all matter?\n\n\"Don't speak of that, don't think of it,\" he said, turning her hand in\nhis, and trying to draw her attention to him; but still she did not look\nat him.\n\n\"Oh, why didn't I die! it would have been better,\" she said, and silent\ntears flowed down both her cheeks; but she tried to smile, so as not to\nwound him.\n\nTo decline the flattering and dangerous appointment at Tashkend would\nhave been, Vronsky had till then considered, disgraceful and impossible.\nBut now, without an instant's consideration, he declined it, and\nobserving dissatisfaction in the most exalted quarters at this step, he\nimmediately retired from the army.\n\nA month later Alexey Alexandrovitch was left alone with his son in his\nhouse at Petersburg, while Anna and Vronsky had gone abroad, not having\nobtained a divorce, but having absolutely declined all idea of one.\n\n\n\n\nPART FIVE\n\n\n\nChapter 1\n\n\nPrincess Shtcherbatskaya considered that it was out of the question for\nthe wedding to take place before Lent, just five weeks off, since not\nhalf the trousseau could possibly be ready by that time. But she could\nnot but agree with Levin that to fix it for after Lent would be putting\nit off too late, as an old aunt of Prince Shtcherbatsky's was seriously\nill and might die, and then the mourning would delay the wedding still\nlonger. And therefore, deciding to divide the trousseau into two\nparts--a larger and smaller trousseau--the princess consented to have\nthe wedding before Lent. She determined that she would get the smaller\npart of the trousseau all ready now, and the larger part should be made\nlater, and she was much vexed with Levin because he was incapable of\ngiving her a serious answer to the question whether he agreed to this\narrangement or not. The arrangement was the more suitable as,\nimmediately after the wedding, the young people were to go to the\ncountry, where the more important part of the trousseau would not be\nwanted.\n\nLevin still continued in the same delirious condition in which it seemed\nto him that he and his happiness constituted the chief and sole aim of\nall existence, and that he need not now think or care about anything,\nthat everything was being done and would be done for him by others. He\nhad not even plans and aims for the future, he left its arrangement to\nothers, knowing that everything would be delightful. His brother Sergey\nIvanovitch, Stepan Arkadyevitch, and the princess guided him in doing\nwhat he had to do. All he did was to agree entirely with everything\nsuggested to him. His brother raised money for him, the princess advised\nhim to leave Moscow after the wedding. Stepan Arkadyevitch advised him\nto go abroad. He agreed to everything. \"Do what you choose, if it amuses\nyou. I'm happy, and my happiness can be no greater and no less for\nanything you do,\" he thought. When he told Kitty of Stepan\nArkadyevitch's advice that they should go abroad, he was much surprised\nthat she did not agree to this, and had some definite requirements of\nher own in regard to their future. She knew Levin had work he loved in\nthe country. She did not, as he saw, understand this work, she did not\neven care to understand it. But that did not prevent her from regarding\nit as a matter of great importance. And then she knew their home would\nbe in the country, and she wanted to go, not abroad where she was not\ngoing to live, but to the place where their home would be. This\ndefinitely expressed purpose astonished Levin. But since he did not care\neither way, he immediately asked Stepan Arkadyevitch, as though it were\nhis duty, to go down to the country and to arrange everything there to\nthe best of his ability with the taste of which he had so much.\n\n\"But I say,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said to him one day after he had come\nback from the country, where he had got everything ready for the young\npeople's arrival, \"have you a certificate of having been at confession?\"\n\n\"No. But what of it?\"\n\n\"You can't be married without it.\"\n\n\"_Aie, aie, aie!_\" cried Levin. \"Why, I believe it's nine years since\nI've taken the sacrament! I never thought of it.\"\n\n\"You're a pretty fellow!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch laughing, \"and you\ncall me a Nihilist! But this won't do, you know. You must take the\nsacrament.\"\n\n\"When? There are four days left now.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch arranged this also, and Levin had to go to\nconfession. To Levin, as to any unbeliever who respects the beliefs of\nothers, it was exceedingly disagreeable to be present at and take part\nin church ceremonies. At this moment, in his present softened state of\nfeeling, sensitive to everything, this inevitable act of hypocrisy was\nnot merely painful to Levin, it seemed to him utterly impossible. Now,\nin the heyday of his highest glory, his fullest flower, he would have to\nbe a liar or a scoffer. He felt incapable of being either. But though he\nrepeatedly plied Stepan Arkadyevitch with questions as to the\npossibility of obtaining a certificate without actually communicating,\nStepan Arkadyevitch maintained that it was out of the question.\n\n\"Besides, what is it to you--two days? And he's an awfully nice clever\nold fellow. He'll pull the tooth out for you so gently, you won't notice\nit.\"\n\nStanding at the first litany, Levin attempted to revive in himself his\nyouthful recollections of the intense religious emotion he had passed\nthrough between the ages of sixteen and seventeen.\n\nBut he was at once convinced that it was utterly impossible to him. He\nattempted to look at it all as an empty custom, having no sort of\nmeaning, like the custom of paying calls. But he felt that he could not\ndo that either. Levin found himself, like the majority of his\ncontemporaries, in the vaguest position in regard to religion. Believe\nhe could not, and at the same time he had no firm conviction that it was\nall wrong. And consequently, not being able to believe in the\nsignificance of what he was doing nor to regard it with indifference as\nan empty formality, during the whole period of preparing for the\nsacrament he was conscious of a feeling of discomfort and shame at doing\nwhat he did not himself understand, and what, as an inner voice told\nhim, was therefore false and wrong.\n\nDuring the service he would first listen to the prayers, trying to\nattach some meaning to them not discordant with his own views; then\nfeeling that he could not understand and must condemn them, he tried not\nto listen to them, but to attend to the thoughts, observations, and\nmemories which floated through his brain with extreme vividness during\nthis idle time of standing in church.\n\nHe had stood through the litany, the evening service and the midnight\nservice, and the next day he got up earlier than usual, and without\nhaving tea went at eight o'clock in the morning to the church for the\nmorning service and the confession.\n\nThere was no one in the church but a beggar soldier, two old women, and\nthe church officials. A young deacon, whose long back showed in two\ndistinct halves through his thin undercassock, met him, and at once\ngoing to a little table at the wall read the exhortation. During the\nreading, especially at the frequent and rapid repetition of the same\nwords, \"Lord, have mercy on us!\" which resounded with an echo, Levin\nfelt that thought was shut and sealed up, and that it must not be\ntouched or stirred now or confusion would be the result; and so standing\nbehind the deacon he went on thinking of his own affairs, neither\nlistening nor examining what was said. \"It's wonderful what expression\nthere is in her hand,\" he thought, remembering how they had been sitting\nthe day before at a corner table. They had nothing to talk about, as was\nalmost always the case at this time, and laying her hand on the table\nshe kept opening and shutting it, and laughed herself as she watched her\naction. He remembered how he had kissed it and then had examined the\nlines on the pink palm. \"Have mercy on us again!\" thought Levin,\ncrossing himself, bowing, and looking at the supple spring of the\ndeacon's back bowing before him. \"She took my hand then and examined the\nlines 'You've got a splendid hand,' she said.\" And he looked at his own\nhand and the short hand of the deacon. \"Yes, now it will soon be over,\"\nhe thought. \"No, it seems to be beginning again,\" he thought, listening\nto the prayers. \"No, it's just ending: there he is bowing down to the\nground. That's always at the end.\"\n\nThe deacon's hand in a plush cuff accepted a three-rouble note\nunobtrusively, and the deacon said he would put it down in the register,\nand his new boots creaking jauntily over the flagstones of the empty\nchurch, he went to the altar. A moment later he peeped out thence and\nbeckoned to Levin. Thought, till then locked up, began to stir in\nLevin's head, but he made haste to drive it away. \"It will come right\nsomehow,\" he thought, and went towards the altar-rails. He went up the\nsteps, and turning to the right saw the priest. The priest, a little old\nman with a scanty grizzled beard and weary, good-natured eyes, was\nstanding at the altar-rails, turning over the pages of a missal. With a\nslight bow to Levin he began immediately reading prayers in the official\nvoice. When he had finished them he bowed down to the ground and turned,\nfacing Levin.\n\n\"Christ is present here unseen, receiving your confession,\" he said,\npointing to the crucifix. \"Do you believe in all the doctrines of the\nHoly Apostolic Church?\" the priest went on, turning his eyes away from\nLevin's face and folding his hands under his stole.\n\n\"I have doubted, I doubt everything,\" said Levin in a voice that jarred\non himself, and he ceased speaking.\n\nThe priest waited a few seconds to see if he would not say more, and\nclosing his eyes he said quickly, with a broad, Vladimirsky accent:\n\n\"Doubt is natural to the weakness of mankind, but we must pray that God\nin His mercy will strengthen us. What are your special sins?\" he added,\nwithout the slightest interval, as though anxious not to waste time.\n\n\"My chief sin is doubt. I have doubts of everything, and for the most\npart I am in doubt.\"\n\n\"Doubt is natural to the weakness of mankind,\" the priest repeated the\nsame words. \"What do you doubt about principally?\"\n\n\"I doubt of everything. I sometimes even have doubts of the existence of\nGod,\" Levin could not help saying, and he was horrified at the\nimpropriety of what he was saying. But Levin's words did not, it seemed,\nmake much impression on the priest.\n\n\"What sort of doubt can there be of the existence of God?\" he said\nhurriedly, with a just perceptible smile.\n\nLevin did not speak.\n\n\"What doubt can you have of the Creator when you behold His creation?\"\nthe priest went on in the rapid customary jargon. \"Who has decked the\nheavenly firmament with its lights? Who has clothed the earth in its\nbeauty? How explain it without the Creator?\" he said, looking\ninquiringly at Levin.\n\nLevin felt that it would be improper to enter upon a metaphysical\ndiscussion with the priest, and so he said in reply merely what was a\ndirect answer to the question.\n\n\"I don't know,\" he said.\n\n\"You don't know! Then how can you doubt that God created all?\" the\npriest said, with good-humored perplexity.\n\n\"I don't understand it at all,\" said Levin, blushing, and feeling that\nhis words were stupid, and that they could not be anything but stupid in\nsuch a position.\n\n\"Pray to God and beseech Him. Even the holy fathers had doubts, and\nprayed to God to strengthen their faith. The devil has great power, and\nwe must resist him. Pray to God, beseech Him. Pray to God,\" he repeated\nhurriedly.\n\nThe priest paused for some time, as though meditating.\n\n\"You're about, I hear, to marry the daughter of my parishioner and son\nin the spirit, Prince Shtcherbatsky?\" he resumed, with a smile. \"An\nexcellent young lady.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Levin, blushing for the priest. \"What does he want to\nask me about this at confession for?\" he thought.\n\nAnd, as though answering his thought, the priest said to him:\n\n\"You are about to enter into holy matrimony, and God may bless you with\noffspring. Well, what sort of bringing-up can you give your babes if you\ndo not overcome the temptation of the devil, enticing you to\ninfidelity?\" he said, with gentle reproachfulness. \"If you love your\nchild as a good father, you will not desire only wealth, luxury, honor\nfor your infant; you will be anxious for his salvation, his spiritual\nenlightenment with the light of truth. Eh? What answer will you make him\nwhen the innocent babe asks you: 'Papa! who made all that enchants me in\nthis world--the earth, the waters, the sun, the flowers, the grass?' Can\nyou say to him: 'I don't know'? You cannot but know, since the Lord God\nin His infinite mercy has revealed it to us. Or your child will ask you:\n'What awaits me in the life beyond the tomb?' What will you say to him\nwhen you know nothing? How will you answer him? Will you leave him to\nthe allurements of the world and the devil? That's not right,\" he said,\nand he stopped, putting his head on one side and looking at Levin with\nhis kindly, gentle eyes.\n\nLevin made no answer this time, not because he did not want to enter\nupon a discussion with the priest, but because, so far, no one had ever\nasked him such questions, and when his babes did ask him those\nquestions, it would be time enough to think about answering them.\n\n\"You are entering upon a time of life,\" pursued the priest, \"when you\nmust choose your path and keep to it. Pray to God that He may in His\nmercy aid you and have mercy on you!\" he concluded. \"Our Lord and God,\nJesus Christ, in the abundance and riches of His lovingkindness,\nforgives this child...\" and, finishing the prayer of absolution, the\npriest blessed him and dismissed him.\n\nOn getting home that day, Levin had a delightful sense of relief at the\nawkward position being over and having been got through without his\nhaving to tell a lie. Apart from this, there remained a vague memory\nthat what the kind, nice old fellow had said had not been at all so\nstupid as he had fancied at first, and that there was something in it\nthat must be cleared up.\n\n\"Of course, not now,\" thought Levin, \"but some day later on.\" Levin felt\nmore than ever now that there was something not clear and not clean in\nhis soul, and that, in regard to religion, he was in the same position\nwhich he perceived so clearly and disliked in others, and for which he\nblamed his friend Sviazhsky.\n\nLevin spent that evening with his betrothed at Dolly's, and was in very\nhigh spirits. To explain to Stepan Arkadyevitch the state of excitement\nin which he found himself, he said that he was happy like a dog being\ntrained to jump through a hoop, who, having at last caught the idea, and\ndone what was required of him, whines and wags its tail, and jumps up to\nthe table and the windows in its delight.\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\n\nOn the day of the wedding, according to the Russian custom (the princess\nand Darya Alexandrovna insisted on strictly keeping all the customs),\nLevin did not see his betrothed, and dined at his hotel with three\nbachelor friends, casually brought together at his rooms. These were\nSergey Ivanovitch, Katavasov, a university friend, now professor of\nnatural science, whom Levin had met in the street and insisted on taking\nhome with him, and Tchirikov, his best man, a Moscow conciliation-board\njudge, Levin's companion in his bear-hunts. The dinner was a very merry\none: Sergey Ivanovitch was in his happiest mood, and was much amused by\nKatavasov's originality. Katavasov, feeling his originality was\nappreciated and understood, made the most of it. Tchirikov always gave a\nlively and good-humored support to conversation of any sort.\n\n\"See, now,\" said Katavasov, drawling his words from a habit acquired in\nthe lecture-room, \"what a capable fellow was our friend Konstantin\nDmitrievitch. I'm not speaking of present company, for he's absent. At\nthe time he left the university he was fond of science, took an interest\nin humanity; now one-half of his abilities is devoted to deceiving\nhimself, and the other to justifying the deceit.\"\n\n\"A more determined enemy of matrimony than you I never saw,\" said Sergey\nIvanovitch.\n\n\"Oh, no, I'm not an enemy of matrimony. I'm in favor of division of\nlabor. People who can do nothing else ought to rear people while the\nrest work for their happiness and enlightenment. That's how I look at\nit. To muddle up two trades is the error of the amateur; I'm not one of\ntheir number.\"\n\n\"How happy I shall be when I hear that you're in love!\" said Levin.\n\"Please invite me to the wedding.\"\n\n\"I'm in love now.\"\n\n\"Yes, with a cuttlefish! You know,\" Levin turned to his brother, \"Mihail\nSemyonovitch is writing a work on the digestive organs of the...\"\n\n\"Now, make a muddle of it! It doesn't matter what about. And the fact\nis, I certainly do love cuttlefish.\"\n\n\"But that's no hindrance to your loving your wife.\"\n\n\"The cuttlefish is no hindrance. The wife is the hindrance.\"\n\n\"Why so?\"\n\n\"Oh, you'll see! You care about farming, hunting,--well, you'd better\nlook out!\"\n\n\"Arhip was here today; he said there were a lot of elks in Prudno, and\ntwo bears,\" said Tchirikov.\n\n\"Well, you must go and get them without me.\"\n\n\"Ah, that's the truth,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch. \"And you may say\ngood-bye to bear-hunting for the future--your wife won't allow it!\"\n\nLevin smiled. The picture of his wife not letting him go was so pleasant\nthat he was ready to renounce the delights of looking upon bears\nforever.\n\n\"Still, it's a pity they should get those two bears without you. Do you\nremember last time at Hapilovo? That was a delightful hunt!\" said\nTchirikov.\n\nLevin had not the heart to disillusion him of the notion that there\ncould be something delightful apart from her, and so said nothing.\n\n\"There's some sense in this custom of saying good-bye to bachelor life,\"\nsaid Sergey Ivanovitch. \"However happy you may be, you must regret your\nfreedom.\"\n\n\"And confess there is a feeling that you want to jump out of the window,\nlike Gogol's bridegroom?\"\n\n\"Of course there is, but it isn't confessed,\" said Katavasov, and he\nbroke into loud laughter.\n\n\"Oh, well, the window's open. Let's start off this instant to Tver!\nThere's a big she-bear; one can go right up to the lair. Seriously,\nlet's go by the five o'clock! And here let them do what they like,\" said\nTchirikov, smiling.\n\n\"Well, now, on my honor,\" said Levin, smiling, \"I can't find in my heart\nthat feeling of regret for my freedom.\"\n\n\"Yes, there's such a chaos in your heart just now that you can't find\nanything there,\" said Katavasov. \"Wait a bit, when you set it to rights\na little, you'll find it!\"\n\n\"No; if so, I should have felt a little, apart from my feeling\" (he\ncould not say love before them) \"and happiness, a certain regret at\nlosing my freedom.... On the contrary, I am glad at the very loss of my\nfreedom.\"\n\n\"Awful! It's a hopeless case!\" said Katavasov. \"Well, let's drink to his\nrecovery, or wish that a hundredth part of his dreams may be\nrealized--and that would be happiness such as never has been seen on\nearth!\"\n\nSoon after dinner the guests went away to be in time to be dressed for\nthe wedding.\n\nWhen he was left alone, and recalled the conversation of these bachelor\nfriends, Levin asked himself: had he in his heart that regret for his\nfreedom of which they had spoken? He smiled at the question. \"Freedom!\nWhat is freedom for? Happiness is only in loving and wishing her wishes,\nthinking her thoughts, that is to say, not freedom at all--that's\nhappiness!\"\n\n\"But do I know her ideas, her wishes, her feelings?\" some voice suddenly\nwhispered to him. The smile died away from his face, and he grew\nthoughtful. And suddenly a strange feeling came upon him. There came\nover him a dread and doubt--doubt of everything.\n\n\"What if she does not love me? What if she's marrying me simply to be\nmarried? What if she doesn't see herself what she's doing?\" he asked\nhimself. \"She may come to her senses, and only when she is being married\nrealize that she does not and cannot love me.\" And strange, most evil\nthoughts of her began to come to him. He was jealous of Vronsky, as he\nhad been a year ago, as though the evening he had seen her with Vronsky\nhad been yesterday. He suspected she had not told him everything.\n\nHe jumped up quickly. \"No, this can't go on!\" he said to himself in\ndespair. \"I'll go to her; I'll ask her; I'll say for the last time: we\nare free, and hadn't we better stay so? Anything's better than endless\nmisery, disgrace, unfaithfulness!\" With despair in his heart and bitter\nanger against all men, against himself, against her, he went out of the\nhotel and drove to her house.\n\nHe found her in one of the back rooms. She was sitting on a chest and\nmaking some arrangements with her maid, sorting over heaps of dresses of\ndifferent colors, spread on the backs of chairs and on the floor.\n\n\"Ah!\" she cried, seeing him, and beaming with delight. \"Kostya!\nKonstantin Dmitrievitch!\" (These latter days she used these names almost\nalternately.) \"I didn't expect you! I'm going through my wardrobe to see\nwhat's for whom...\"\n\n\"Oh! that's very nice!\" he said gloomily, looking at the maid.\n\n\"You can go, Dunyasha, I'll call you presently,\" said Kitty. \"Kostya,\nwhat's the matter?\" she asked, definitely adopting this familiar name as\nsoon as the maid had gone out. She noticed his strange face, agitated\nand gloomy, and a panic came over her.\n\n\"Kitty! I'm in torture. I can't suffer alone,\" he said with despair in\nhis voice, standing before her and looking imploringly into her eyes. He\nsaw already from her loving, truthful face, that nothing could come of\nwhat he had meant to say, but yet he wanted her to reassure him herself.\n\"I've come to say that there's still time. This can all be stopped and\nset right.\"\n\n\"What? I don't understand. What is the matter?\"\n\n\"What I have said a thousand times over, and can't help thinking ...\nthat I'm not worthy of you. You couldn't consent to marry me. Think a\nlittle. You've made a mistake. Think it over thoroughly. You can't love\nme.... If ... better say so,\" he said, not looking at her. \"I shall be\nwretched. Let people say what they like; anything's better than\nmisery.... Far better now while there's still time....\"\n\n\"I don't understand,\" she answered, panic-stricken; \"you mean you want\nto give it up ... don't want it?\"\n\n\"Yes, if you don't love me.\"\n\n\"You're out of your mind!\" she cried, turning crimson with vexation. But\nhis face was so piteous, that she restrained her vexation, and flinging\nsome clothes off an arm-chair, she sat down beside him. \"What are you\nthinking? tell me all.\"\n\n\"I am thinking you can't love me. What can you love me for?\"\n\n\"My God! what can I do?...\" she said, and burst into tears.\n\n\"Oh! what have I done?\" he cried, and kneeling before her, he fell to\nkissing her hands.\n\nWhen the princess came into the room five minutes later, she found them\ncompletely reconciled. Kitty had not simply assured him that she loved\nhim, but had gone so far--in answer to his question, what she loved him\nfor--as to explain what for. She told him that she loved him because she\nunderstood him completely, because she knew what he would like, and\nbecause everything he liked was good. And this seemed to him perfectly\nclear. When the princess came to them, they were sitting side by side on\nthe chest, sorting the dresses and disputing over Kitty's wanting to\ngive Dunyasha the brown dress she had been wearing when Levin proposed\nto her, while he insisted that that dress must never be given away, but\nDunyasha must have the blue one.\n\n\"How is it you don't see? She's a brunette, and it won't suit her....\nI've worked it all out.\"\n\nHearing why he had come, the princess was half humorously, half\nseriously angry with him, and sent him home to dress and not to hinder\nKitty's hair-dressing, as Charles the hair-dresser was just coming.\n\n\"As it is, she's been eating nothing lately and is losing her looks, and\nthen you must come and upset her with your nonsense,\" she said to him.\n\"Get along with you, my dear!\"\n\nLevin, guilty and shamefaced, but pacified, went back to his hotel. His\nbrother, Darya Alexandrovna, and Stepan Arkadyevitch, all in full dress,\nwere waiting for him to bless him with the holy picture. There was no\ntime to lose. Darya Alexandrovna had to drive home again to fetch her\ncurled and pomaded son, who was to carry the holy pictures after the\nbride. Then a carriage had to be sent for the best man, and another that\nwould take Sergey Ivanovitch away would have to be sent back....\nAltogether there were a great many most complicated matters to be\nconsidered and arranged. One thing was unmistakable, that there must be\nno delay, as it was already half-past six.\n\nNothing special happened at the ceremony of benediction with the holy\npicture. Stepan Arkadyevitch stood in a comically solemn pose beside his\nwife, took the holy picture, and telling Levin to bow down to the\nground, he blessed him with his kindly, ironical smile, and kissed him\nthree times; Darya Alexandrovna did the same, and immediately was in a\nhurry to get off, and again plunged into the intricate question of the\ndestinations of the various carriages.\n\n\"Come, I'll tell you how we'll manage: you drive in our carriage to\nfetch him, and Sergey Ivanovitch, if he'll be so good, will drive there\nand then send his carriage.\"\n\n\"Of course; I shall be delighted.\"\n\n\"We'll come on directly with him. Are your things sent off?\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Levin, and he told Kouzma to put out his clothes for him\nto dress.\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\n\nA crowd of people, principally women, was thronging round the church\nlighted up for the wedding. Those who had not succeeded in getting into\nthe main entrance were crowding about the windows, pushing, wrangling,\nand peeping through the gratings.\n\nMore than twenty carriages had already been drawn up in ranks along the\nstreet by the police. A police officer, regardless of the frost, stood\nat the entrance, gorgeous in his uniform. More carriages were\ncontinually driving up, and ladies wearing flowers and carrying their\ntrains, and men taking off their helmets or black hats kept walking into\nthe church. Inside the church both lusters were already lighted, and all\nthe candles before the holy pictures. The gilt on the red ground of the\nholy picture-stand, and the gilt relief on the pictures, and the silver\nof the lusters and candlesticks, and the stones of the floor, and the\nrugs, and the banners above in the choir, and the steps of the altar,\nand the old blackened books, and the cassocks and surplices--all were\nflooded with light. On the right side of the warm church, in the crowd\nof frock coats and white ties, uniforms and broadcloth, velvet, satin,\nhair and flowers, bare shoulders and arms and long gloves, there was\ndiscreet but lively conversation that echoed strangely in the high\ncupola. Every time there was heard the creak of the opened door the\nconversation in the crowd died away, and everybody looked round\nexpecting to see the bride and bridegroom come in. But the door had\nopened more than ten times, and each time it was either a belated guest\nor guests, who joined the circle of the invited on the right, or a\nspectator, who had eluded or softened the police officer, and went to\njoin the crowd of outsiders on the left. Both the guests and the outside\npublic had by now passed through all the phases of anticipation.\n\nAt first they imagined that the bride and bridegroom would arrive\nimmediately, and attached no importance at all to their being late. Then\nthey began to look more and more often towards the door, and to talk of\nwhether anything could have happened. Then the long delay began to be\npositively discomforting, and relations and guests tried to look as if\nthey were not thinking of the bridegroom but were engrossed in\nconversation.\n\nThe head deacon, as though to remind them of the value of his time,\ncoughed impatiently, making the window-panes quiver in their frames. In\nthe choir the bored choristers could be heard trying their voices and\nblowing their noses. The priest was continually sending first the beadle\nand then the deacon to find out whether the bridegroom had not come,\nmore and more often he went himself, in a lilac vestment and an\nembroidered sash, to the side door, expecting to see the bridegroom. At\nlast one of the ladies, glancing at her watch, said, \"It really is\nstrange, though!\" and all the guests became uneasy and began loudly\nexpressing their wonder and dissatisfaction. One of the bridegroom's\nbest men went to find out what had happened. Kitty meanwhile had long\nago been quite ready, and in her white dress and long veil and wreath of\norange blossoms she was standing in the drawing-room of the\nShtcherbatskys' house with her sister, Madame Lvova, who was her\nbridal-mother. She was looking out of the window, and had been for over\nhalf an hour anxiously expecting to hear from the best man that her\nbridegroom was at the church.\n\nLevin meanwhile, in his trousers, but without his coat and waistcoat,\nwas walking to and fro in his room at the hotel, continually putting his\nhead out of the door and looking up and down the corridor. But in the\ncorridor there was no sign of the person he was looking for and he came\nback in despair, and frantically waving his hands addressed Stepan\nArkadyevitch, who was smoking serenely.\n\n\"Was ever a man in such a fearful fool's position?\" he said.\n\n\"Yes, it is stupid,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch assented, smiling soothingly.\n\"But don't worry, it'll be brought directly.\"\n\n\"No, what is to be done!\" said Levin, with smothered fury. \"And these\nfools of open waistcoats! Out of the question!\" he said, looking at the\ncrumpled front of his shirt. \"And what if the things have been taken on\nto the railway station!\" he roared in desperation.\n\n\"Then you must put on mine.\"\n\n\"I ought to have done so long ago, if at all.\"\n\n\"It's not nice to look ridiculous.... Wait a bit! it will _come round_.\"\n\nThe point was that when Levin asked for his evening suit, Kouzma, his\nold servant, had brought him the coat, waistcoat, and everything that\nwas wanted.\n\n\"But the shirt!\" cried Levin.\n\n\"You've got a shirt on,\" Kouzma answered, with a placid smile.\n\nKouzma had not thought of leaving out a clean shirt, and on receiving\ninstructions to pack up everything and send it round to the\nShtcherbatskys' house, from which the young people were to set out the\nsame evening, he had done so, packing everything but the dress suit. The\nshirt worn since the morning was crumpled and out of the question with\nthe fashionable open waistcoat. It was a long way to send to the\nShtcherbatskys'. They sent out to buy a shirt. The servant came back;\neverything was shut up--it was Sunday. They sent to Stepan\nArkadyevitch's and brought a shirt--it was impossibly wide and short.\nThey sent finally to the Shtcherbatskys' to unpack the things. The\nbridegroom was expected at the church while he was pacing up and down\nhis room like a wild beast in a cage, peeping out into the corridor, and\nwith horror and despair recalling what absurd things he had said to\nKitty and what she might be thinking now.\n\nAt last the guilty Kouzma flew panting into the room with the shirt.\n\n\"Only just in time. They were just lifting it into the van,\" said\nKouzma.\n\nThree minutes later Levin ran full speed into the corridor, not looking\nat his watch for fear of aggravating his sufferings.\n\n\"You won't help matters like this,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch with a\nsmile, hurrying with more deliberation after him. \"It will come round,\nit will come round ... I tell you.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\n\n\"They've come!\" \"Here he is!\" \"Which one?\" \"Rather young, eh?\" \"Why, my\ndear soul, she looks more dead than alive!\" were the comments in the\ncrowd, when Levin, meeting his bride in the entrance, walked with her\ninto the church.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch told his wife the cause of the delay, and the guests\nwere whispering it with smiles to one another. Levin saw nothing and no\none; he did not take his eyes off his bride.\n\nEveryone said she had lost her looks dreadfully of late, and was not\nnearly so pretty on her wedding day as usual; but Levin did not think\nso. He looked at her hair done up high, with the long white veil and\nwhite flowers and the high, stand-up, scalloped collar, that in such a\nmaidenly fashion hid her long neck at the sides and only showed it in\nfront, her strikingly slender figure, and it seemed to him that she\nlooked better than ever--not because these flowers, this veil, this gown\nfrom Paris added anything to her beauty; but because, in spite of the\nelaborate sumptuousness of her attire, the expression of her sweet face,\nof her eyes, of her lips was still her own characteristic expression of\nguileless truthfulness.\n\n\"I was beginning to think you meant to run away,\" she said, and smiled\nto him.\n\n\"It's so stupid, what happened to me, I'm ashamed to speak of it!\" he\nsaid, reddening, and he was obliged to turn to Sergey Ivanovitch, who\ncame up to him.\n\n\"This is a pretty story of yours about the shirt!\" said Sergey\nIvanovitch, shaking his head and smiling.\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" answered Levin, without an idea of what they were talking\nabout.\n\n\"Now, Kostya, you have to decide,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch with an air\nof mock dismay, \"a weighty question. You are at this moment just in the\nhumor to appreciate all its gravity. They ask me, are they to light the\ncandles that have been lighted before or candles that have never been\nlighted? It's a matter of ten roubles,\" he added, relaxing his lips into\na smile. \"I have decided, but I was afraid you might not agree.\"\n\nLevin saw it was a joke, but he could not smile.\n\n\"Well, how's it to be then?--unlighted or lighted candles? that's the\nquestion.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, unlighted.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm very glad. The question's decided!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\nsmiling. \"How silly men are, though, in this position,\" he said to\nTchirikov, when Levin, after looking absently at him, had moved back to\nhis bride.\n\n\"Kitty, mind you're the first to step on the carpet,\" said Countess\nNordston, coming up. \"You're a nice person!\" she said to Levin.\n\n\"Aren't you frightened, eh?\" said Marya Dmitrievna, an old aunt.\n\n\"Are you cold? You're pale. Stop a minute, stoop down,\" said Kitty's\nsister, Madame Lvova, and with her plump, handsome arms she smilingly\nset straight the flowers on her head.\n\nDolly came up, tried to say something, but could not speak, cried, and\nthen laughed unnaturally.\n\nKitty looked at all of them with the same absent eyes as Levin.\n\nMeanwhile the officiating clergy had got into their vestments, and the\npriest and deacon came out to the lectern, which stood in the forepart\nof the church. The priest turned to Levin saying something. Levin did\nnot hear what the priest said.\n\n\"Take the bride's hand and lead her up,\" the best man said to Levin.\n\nIt was a long while before Levin could make out what was expected of\nhim. For a long time they tried to set him right and made him begin\nagain--because he kept taking Kitty by the wrong arm or with the wrong\narm--till he understood at last that what he had to do was, without\nchanging his position, to take her right hand in his right hand. When at\nlast he had taken the bride's hand in the correct way, the priest walked\na few paces in front of them and stopped at the lectern. The crowd of\nfriends and relations moved after them, with a buzz of talk and a rustle\nof skirts. Someone stooped down and pulled out the bride's train. The\nchurch became so still that the drops of wax could be heard falling from\nthe candles.\n\nThe little old priest in his ecclesiastical cap, with his long\nsilvery-gray locks of hair parted behind his ears, was fumbling with\nsomething at the lectern, putting out his little old hands from under\nthe heavy silver vestment with the gold cross on the back of it.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch approached him cautiously, whispered something, and\nmaking a sign to Levin, walked back again.\n\nThe priest lighted two candles, wreathed with flowers, and holding them\nsideways so that the wax dropped slowly from them he turned, facing the\nbridal pair. The priest was the same old man that had confessed Levin.\nHe looked with weary and melancholy eyes at the bride and bridegroom,\nsighed, and putting his right hand out from his vestment, blessed the\nbridegroom with it, and also with a shade of solicitous tenderness laid\nthe crossed fingers on the bowed head of Kitty. Then he gave them the\ncandles, and taking the censer, moved slowly away from them.\n\n\"Can it be true?\" thought Levin, and he looked round at his bride.\nLooking down at her he saw her face in profile, and from the scarcely\nperceptible quiver of her lips and eyelashes he knew she was aware of\nhis eyes upon her. She did not look round, but the high scalloped\ncollar, that reached her little pink ear, trembled faintly. He saw that\na sigh was held back in her throat, and the little hand in the long\nglove shook as it held the candle.\n\nAll the fuss of the shirt, of being late, all the talk of friends and\nrelations, their annoyance, his ludicrous position--all suddenly passed\naway and he was filled with joy and dread.\n\nThe handsome, stately head-deacon wearing a silver robe and his curly\nlocks standing out at each side of his head, stepped smartly forward,\nand lifting his stole on two fingers, stood opposite the priest.\n\n\"Blessed be the name of the Lord,\" the solemn syllables rang out slowly\none after another, setting the air quivering with waves of sound.\n\n\"Blessed is the name of our God, from the beginning, is now, and ever\nshall be,\" the little old priest answered in a submissive, piping voice,\nstill fingering something at the lectern. And the full chorus of the\nunseen choir rose up, filling the whole church, from the windows to the\nvaulted roof, with broad waves of melody. It grew stronger, rested for\nan instant, and slowly died away.\n\nThey prayed, as they always do, for peace from on high and for\nsalvation, for the Holy Synod, and for the Tsar; they prayed, too, for\nthe servants of God, Konstantin and Ekaterina, now plighting their\ntroth.\n\n\"Vouchsafe to them love made perfect, peace and help, O Lord, we beseech\nThee,\" the whole church seemed to breathe with the voice of the head\ndeacon.\n\nLevin heard the words, and they impressed him. \"How did they guess that\nit is help, just help that one wants?\" he thought, recalling all his\nfears and doubts of late. \"What do I know? what can I do in this fearful\nbusiness,\" he thought, \"without help? Yes, it is help I want now.\"\n\nWhen the deacon had finished the prayer for the Imperial family, the\npriest turned to the bridal pair with a book: \"Eternal God, that joinest\ntogether in love them that were separate,\" he read in a gentle, piping\nvoice: \"who hast ordained the union of holy wedlock that cannot be set\nasunder, Thou who didst bless Isaac and Rebecca and their descendants,\naccording to Thy Holy Covenant; bless Thy servants, Konstantin and\nEkaterina, leading them in the path of all good works. For gracious and\nmerciful art Thou, our Lord, and glory be to Thee, the Father, the Son,\nand the Holy Ghost, now and ever shall be.\"\n\n\"Amen!\" the unseen choir sent rolling again upon the air.\n\n\"'Joinest together in love them that were separate.' What deep meaning\nin those words, and how they correspond with what one feels at this\nmoment,\" thought Levin. \"Is she feeling the same as I?\"\n\nAnd looking round, he met her eyes, and from their expression he\nconcluded that she was understanding it just as he was. But this was a\nmistake; she almost completely missed the meaning of the words of the\nservice; she had not heard them, in fact. She could not listen to them\nand take them in, so strong was the one feeling that filled her breast\nand grew stronger and stronger. That feeling was joy at the completion\nof the process that for the last month and a half had been going on in\nher soul, and had during those six weeks been a joy and a torture to\nher. On the day when in the drawing room of the house in Arbaty Street\nshe had gone up to him in her brown dress, and given herself to him\nwithout a word--on that day, at that hour, there took place in her heart\na complete severance from all her old life, and a quite different, new,\nutterly strange life had begun for her, while the old life was actually\ngoing on as before. Those six weeks had for her been a time of the\nutmost bliss and the utmost misery. All her life, all her desires and\nhopes were concentrated on this one man, still uncomprehended by her, to\nwhom she was bound by a feeling of alternate attraction and repulsion,\neven less comprehended than the man himself, and all the while she was\ngoing on living in the outward conditions of her old life. Living the\nold life, she was horrified at herself, at her utter insurmountable\ncallousness to all her own past, to things, to habits, to the people she\nhad loved, who loved her--to her mother, who was wounded by her\nindifference, to her kind, tender father, till then dearer than all the\nworld. At one moment she was horrified at this indifference, at another\nshe rejoiced at what had brought her to this indifference. She could not\nframe a thought, not a wish apart from life with this man; but this new\nlife was not yet, and she could not even picture it clearly to herself.\nThere was only anticipation, the dread and joy of the new and the\nunknown. And now behold--anticipation and uncertainty and remorse at the\nabandonment of the old life--all was ending, and the new was beginning.\nThis new life could not but have terrors for her inexperience; but,\nterrible or not, the change had been wrought six weeks before in her\nsoul, and this was merely the final sanction of what had long been\ncompleted in her heart.\n\nTurning again to the lectern, the priest with some difficulty took\nKitty's little ring, and asking Levin for his hand, put it on the first\njoint of his finger. \"The servant of God, Konstantin, plights his troth\nto the servant of God, Ekaterina.\" And putting his big ring on Kitty's\ntouchingly weak, pink little finger, the priest said the same thing.\n\nAnd the bridal pair tried several times to understand what they had to\ndo, and each time made some mistake and were corrected by the priest in\na whisper. At last, having duly performed the ceremony, having signed\nthe rings with the cross, the priest handed Kitty the big ring, and\nLevin the little one. Again they were puzzled, and passed the rings from\nhand to hand, still without doing what was expected.\n\nDolly, Tchirikov, and Stepan Arkadyevitch stepped forward to set them\nright. There was an interval of hesitation, whispering, and smiles; but\nthe expression of solemn emotion on the faces of the betrothed pair did\nnot change: on the contrary, in their perplexity over their hands they\nlooked more grave and deeply moved than before, and the smile with which\nStepan Arkadyevitch whispered to them that now they would each put on\ntheir own ring died away on his lips. He had a feeling that any smile\nwould jar on them.\n\n\"Thou who didst from the beginning create male and female,\" the priest\nread after the exchange of rings, \"from Thee woman was given to man to\nbe a helpmeet to him, and for the procreation of children. O Lord, our\nGod, who hast poured down the blessings of Thy Truth according to Thy\nHoly Covenant upon Thy chosen servants, our fathers, from generation to\ngeneration, bless Thy servants Konstantin and Ekaterina, and make their\ntroth fast in faith, and union of hearts, and truth, and love....\"\n\nLevin felt more and more that all his ideas of marriage, all his dreams\nof how he would order his life, were mere childishness, and that it was\nsomething he had not understood hitherto, and now understood less than\never, though it was being performed upon him. The lump in his throat\nrose higher and higher, tears that would not be checked came into his\neyes.\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\n\nIn the church there was all Moscow, all the friends and relations; and\nduring the ceremony of plighting troth, in the brilliantly lighted\nchurch, there was an incessant flow of discreetly subdued talk in the\ncircle of gaily dressed women and girls, and men in white ties,\nfrockcoats, and uniforms. The talk was principally kept up by the men,\nwhile the women were absorbed in watching every detail of the ceremony,\nwhich always means so much to them.\n\nIn the little group nearest to the bride were her two sisters: Dolly,\nand the other one, the self-possessed beauty, Madame Lvova, who had just\narrived from abroad.\n\n\"Why is it Marie's in lilac, as bad as black, at a wedding?\" said Madame\nKorsunskaya.\n\n\"With her complexion, it's the one salvation,\" responded Madame\nTrubetskaya. \"I wonder why they had the wedding in the evening? It's\nlike shop-people...\"\n\n\"So much prettier. I was married in the evening too...\" answered Madame\nKorsunskaya, and she sighed, remembering how charming she had been that\nday, and how absurdly in love her husband was, and how different it all\nwas now.\n\n\"They say if anyone's best man more than ten times, he'll never be\nmarried. I wanted to be for the tenth time, but the post was taken,\"\nsaid Count Siniavin to the pretty Princess Tcharskaya, who had designs\non him.\n\nPrincess Tcharskaya only answered with a smile. She looked at Kitty,\nthinking how and when she would stand with Count Siniavin in Kitty's\nplace, and how she would remind him then of his joke today.\n\nShtcherbatsky told the old maid of honor, Madame Nikolaeva, that he\nmeant to put the crown on Kitty's chignon for luck.\n\n\"She ought not to have worn a chignon,\" answered Madame Nikolaeva, who\nhad long ago made up her mind that if the elderly widower she was\nangling for married her, the wedding should be of the simplest. \"I don't\nlike such grandeur.\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch was talking to Darya Dmitrievna, jestingly assuring\nher that the custom of going away after the wedding was becoming common\nbecause newly married people always felt a little ashamed of themselves.\n\n\"Your brother may feel proud of himself. She's a marvel of sweetness. I\nbelieve you're envious.\"\n\n\"Oh, I've got over that, Darya Dmitrievna,\" he answered, and a\nmelancholy and serious expression suddenly came over his face.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was telling his sister-in-law his joke about\ndivorce.\n\n\"The wreath wants setting straight,\" she answered, not hearing him.\n\n\"What a pity she's lost her looks so,\" Countess Nordston said to Madame\nLvova. \"Still he's not worth her little finger, is he?\"\n\n\"Oh, I like him so--not because he's my future _beau-frere_,\" answered\nMadame Lvova. \"And how well he's behaving! It's so difficult, too, to\nlook well in such a position, not to be ridiculous. And he's not\nridiculous, and not affected; one can see he's moved.\"\n\n\"You expected it, I suppose?\"\n\n\"Almost. She always cared for him.\"\n\n\"Well, we shall see which of them will step on the rug first. I warned\nKitty.\"\n\n\"It will make no difference,\" said Madame Lvova; \"we're all obedient\nwives; it's in our family.\"\n\n\"Oh, I stepped on the rug before Vassily on purpose. And you, Dolly?\"\n\nDolly stood beside them; she heard them, but she did not answer. She was\ndeeply moved. The tears stood in her eyes, and she could not have spoken\nwithout crying. She was rejoicing over Kitty and Levin; going back in\nthought to her own wedding, she glanced at the radiant figure of Stepan\nArkadyevitch, forgot all the present, and remembered only her own\ninnocent love. She recalled not herself only, but all her women-friends\nand acquaintances. She thought of them on the one day of their triumph,\nwhen they had stood like Kitty under the wedding crown, with love and\nhope and dread in their hearts, renouncing the past, and stepping\nforward into the mysterious future. Among the brides that came back to\nher memory, she thought too of her darling Anna, of whose proposed\ndivorce she had just been hearing. And she had stood just as innocent in\norange flowers and bridal veil. And now? \"It's terribly strange,\" she\nsaid to herself. It was not merely the sisters, the women-friends and\nfemale relations of the bride who were following every detail of the\nceremony. Women who were quite strangers, mere spectators, were watching\nit excitedly, holding their breath, in fear of losing a single movement\nor expression of the bride and bridegroom, and angrily not answering,\noften not hearing, the remarks of the callous men, who kept making\njoking or irrelevant observations.\n\n\"Why has she been crying? Is she being married against her will?\"\n\n\"Against her will to a fine fellow like that? A prince, isn't he?\"\n\n\"Is that her sister in the white satin? Just listen how the deacon booms\nout, 'And fearing her husband.'\"\n\n\"Are the choristers from Tchudovo?\"\n\n\"No, from the Synod.\"\n\n\"I asked the footman. He says he's going to take her home to his country\nplace at once. Awfully rich, they say. That's why she's being married to\nhim.\"\n\n\"No, they're a well-matched pair.\"\n\n\"I say, Marya Vassilievna, you were making out those fly-away crinolines\nwere not being worn. Just look at her in the puce dress--an ambassador's\nwife they say she is--how her skirt bounces out from side to side!\"\n\n\"What a pretty dear the bride is--like a lamb decked with flowers! Well,\nsay what you will, we women feel for our sister.\"\n\nSuch were the comments in the crowd of gazing women who had succeeded in\nslipping in at the church doors.\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\n\nWhen the ceremony of plighting troth was over, the beadle spread before\nthe lectern in the middle of the church a piece of pink silken stuff,\nthe choir sang a complicated and elaborate psalm, in which the bass and\ntenor sang responses to one another, and the priest turning round\npointed the bridal pair to the pink silk rug. Though both had often\nheard a great deal about the saying that the one who steps first on the\nrug will be the head of the house, neither Levin nor Kitty were capable\nof recollecting it, as they took the few steps towards it. They did not\nhear the loud remarks and disputes that followed, some maintaining he\nhad stepped on first, and others that both had stepped on together.\n\nAfter the customary questions, whether they desired to enter upon\nmatrimony, and whether they were pledged to anyone else, and their\nanswers, which sounded strange to themselves, a new ceremony began.\nKitty listened to the words of the prayer, trying to make out their\nmeaning, but she could not. The feeling of triumph and radiant happiness\nflooded her soul more and more as the ceremony went on, and deprived her\nof all power of attention.\n\nThey prayed: \"Endow them with continence and fruitfulness, and vouchsafe\nthat their hearts may rejoice looking upon their sons and daughters.\"\nThey alluded to God's creation of a wife from Adam's rib \"and for this\ncause a man shall leave father and mother, and cleave unto his wife, and\nthey two shall be one flesh,\" and that \"this is a great mystery\"; they\nprayed that God would make them fruitful and bless them, like Isaac and\nRebecca, Joseph, Moses and Zipporah, and that they might look upon their\nchildren's children. \"That's all splendid,\" thought Kitty, catching the\nwords, \"all that's just as it should be,\" and a smile of happiness,\nunconsciously reflected in everyone who looked at her, beamed on her\nradiant face.\n\n\"Put it on quite,\" voices were heard urging when the priest had put on\nthe wedding crowns and Shtcherbatsky, his hand shaking in its\nthree-button glove, held the crown high above her head.\n\n\"Put it on!\" she whispered, smiling.\n\nLevin looked round at her, and was struck by the joyful radiance on her\nface, and unconsciously her feeling infected him. He too, like her felt\nglad and happy.\n\nThey enjoyed hearing the epistle read, and the roll of the head deacon's\nvoice at the last verse, awaited with such impatience by the outside\npublic. They enjoyed drinking out of the shallow cup of warm red wine\nand water, and they were still more pleased when the priest, flinging\nback his stole and taking both their hands in his, led them round the\nlectern to the accompaniment of bass voices chanting \"Glory to God.\"\n\nShtcherbatsky and Tchirikov, supporting the crowns and stumbling over\nthe bride's train, smiling too and seeming delighted at something, were\nat one moment left behind, at the next treading on the bridal pair as\nthe priest came to a halt. The spark of joy kindled in Kitty seemed to\nhave infected everyone in the church. It seemed to Levin that the priest\nand the deacon too wanted to smile just as he did.\n\nTaking the crowns off their heads the priest read the last prayer and\ncongratulated the young people. Levin looked at Kitty, and he had never\nbefore seen her look as she did. She was charming with the new radiance\nof happiness in her face. Levin longed to say something to her, but he\ndid not know whether it was all over. The priest got him out of his\ndifficulty. He smiled his kindly smile and said gently, \"Kiss your wife,\nand you kiss your husband,\" and took the candles out of their hands.\n\nLevin kissed her smiling lips with timid care, gave her his arm, and\nwith a new strange sense of closeness, walked out of the church. He did\nnot believe, he could not believe, that it was true. It was only when\ntheir wondering and timid eyes met that he believed in it, because he\nfelt that they were one.\n\nAfter supper, the same night, the young people left for the country.\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\n\nVronsky and Anna had been traveling for three months together in Europe.\nThey had visited Venice, Rome, and Naples, and had just arrived at a\nsmall Italian town where they meant to stay some time. A handsome head\nwaiter, with thick pomaded hair parted from the neck upwards, an evening\ncoat, a broad white cambric shirt front, and a bunch of trinkets hanging\nabove his rounded stomach, stood with his hands in the full curve of his\npockets, looking contemptuously from under his eyelids while he gave\nsome frigid reply to a gentleman who had stopped him. Catching the sound\nof footsteps coming from the other side of the entry towards the\nstaircase, the head waiter turned round, and seeing the Russian count,\nwho had taken their best rooms, he took his hands out of his pockets\ndeferentially, and with a bow informed him that a courier had been, and\nthat the business about the palazzo had been arranged. The steward was\nprepared to sign the agreement.\n\n\"Ah! I'm glad to hear it,\" said Vronsky. \"Is madame at home or not?\"\n\n\"Madame has been out for a walk but has returned now,\" answered the\nwaiter.\n\nVronsky took off his soft, wide-brimmed hat and passed his handkerchief\nover his heated brow and hair, which had grown half over his ears, and\nwas brushed back covering the bald patch on his head. And glancing\ncasually at the gentleman, who still stood there gazing intently at him,\nhe would have gone on.\n\n\"This gentleman is a Russian, and was inquiring after you,\" said the\nhead waiter.\n\nWith mingled feelings of annoyance at never being able to get away from\nacquaintances anywhere, and longing to find some sort of diversion from\nthe monotony of his life, Vronsky looked once more at the gentleman, who\nhad retreated and stood still again, and at the same moment a light came\ninto the eyes of both.\n\n\"Golenishtchev!\"\n\n\"Vronsky!\"\n\nIt really was Golenishtchev, a comrade of Vronsky's in the Corps of\nPages. In the corps Golenishtchev had belonged to the liberal party; he\nleft the corps without entering the army, and had never taken office\nunder the government. Vronsky and he had gone completely different ways\non leaving the corps, and had only met once since.\n\nAt that meeting Vronsky perceived that Golenishtchev had taken up a sort\nof lofty, intellectually liberal line, and was consequently disposed to\nlook down upon Vronsky's interests and calling in life. Hence Vronsky\nhad met him with the chilling and haughty manner he so well knew how to\nassume, the meaning of which was: \"You may like or dislike my way of\nlife, that's a matter of the most perfect indifference to me; you will\nhave to treat me with respect if you want to know me.\" Golenishtchev had\nbeen contemptuously indifferent to the tone taken by Vronsky. This\nsecond meeting might have been expected, one would have supposed, to\nestrange them still more. But now they beamed and exclaimed with delight\non recognizing one another. Vronsky would never have expected to be so\npleased to see Golenishtchev, but probably he was not himself aware how\nbored he was. He forgot the disagreeable impression of their last\nmeeting, and with a face of frank delight held out his hand to his old\ncomrade. The same expression of delight replaced the look of uneasiness\non Golenishtchev's face.\n\n\"How glad I am to meet you!\" said Vronsky, showing his strong white\nteeth in a friendly smile.\n\n\"I heard the name Vronsky, but I didn't know which one. I'm very, very\nglad!\"\n\n\"Let's go in. Come, tell me what you're doing.\"\n\n\"I've been living here for two years. I'm working.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Vronsky, with sympathy; \"let's go in.\" And with the habit\ncommon with Russians, instead of saying in Russian what he wanted to\nkeep from the servants, he began to speak in French.\n\n\"Do you know Madame Karenina? We are traveling together. I am going to\nsee her now,\" he said in French, carefully scrutinizing Golenishtchev's\nface.\n\n\"Ah! I did not know\" (though he did know), Golenishtchev answered\ncarelessly. \"Have you been here long?\" he added.\n\n\"Four days,\" Vronsky answered, once more scrutinizing his friend's face\nintently.\n\n\"Yes, he's a decent fellow, and will look at the thing properly,\"\nVronsky said to himself, catching the significance of Golenishtchev's\nface and the change of subject. \"I can introduce him to Anna, he looks\nat it properly.\"\n\nDuring those three months that Vronsky had spent abroad with Anna, he\nhad always on meeting new people asked himself how the new person would\nlook at his relations with Anna, and for the most part, in men, he had\nmet with the \"proper\" way of looking at it. But if he had been asked,\nand those who looked at it \"properly\" had been asked, exactly how they\ndid look at it, both he and they would have been greatly puzzled to\nanswer.\n\nIn reality, those who in Vronsky's opinion had the \"proper\" view had no\nsort of view at all, but behaved in general as well-bred persons do\nbehave in regard to all the complex and insoluble problems with which\nlife is encompassed on all sides; they behaved with propriety, avoiding\nallusions and unpleasant questions. They assumed an air of fully\ncomprehending the import and force of the situation, of accepting and\neven approving of it, but of considering it superfluous and uncalled for\nto put all this into words.\n\nVronsky at once divined that Golenishtchev was of this class, and\ntherefore was doubly pleased to see him. And in fact, Golenishtchev's\nmanner to Madame Karenina, when he was taken to call on her, was all\nthat Vronsky could have desired. Obviously without the slightest effort\nhe steered clear of all subjects which might lead to embarrassment.\n\nHe had never met Anna before, and was struck by her beauty, and still\nmore by the frankness with which she accepted her position. She blushed\nwhen Vronsky brought in Golenishtchev, and he was extremely charmed by\nthis childish blush overspreading her candid and handsome face. But what\nhe liked particularly was the way in which at once, as though on purpose\nthat there might be no misunderstanding with an outsider, she called\nVronsky simply Alexey, and said they were moving into a house they had\njust taken, what was here called a palazzo. Golenishtchev liked this\ndirect and simple attitude to her own position. Looking at Anna's manner\nof simple-hearted, spirited gaiety, and knowing Alexey Alexandrovitch\nand Vronsky, Golenishtchev fancied that he understood her perfectly. He\nfancied that he understood what she was utterly unable to understand:\nhow it was that, having made her husband wretched, having abandoned him\nand her son and lost her good name, she yet felt full of spirits,\ngaiety, and happiness.\n\n\"It's in the guide-book,\" said Golenishtchev, referring to the palazzo\nVronsky had taken. \"There's a first-rate Tintoretto there. One of his\nlatest period.\"\n\n\"I tell you what: it's a lovely day, let's go and have another look at\nit,\" said Vronsky, addressing Anna.\n\n\"I shall be very glad to; I'll go and put on my hat. Would you say it's\nhot?\" she said, stopping short in the doorway and looking inquiringly at\nVronsky. And again a vivid flush overspread her face.\n\nVronsky saw from her eyes that she did not know on what terms he cared\nto be with Golenishtchev, and so was afraid of not behaving as he would\nwish.\n\nHe looked a long, tender look at her.\n\n\"No, not very,\" he said.\n\nAnd it seemed to her that she understood everything, most of all, that\nhe was pleased with her; and smiling to him, she walked with her rapid\nstep out at the door.\n\nThe friends glanced at one another, and a look of hesitation came into\nboth faces, as though Golenishtchev, unmistakably admiring her, would\nhave liked to say something about her, and could not find the right\nthing to say, while Vronsky desired and dreaded his doing so.\n\n\"Well then,\" Vronsky began to start a conversation of some sort; \"so\nyou're settled here? You're still at the same work, then?\" he went on,\nrecalling that he had been told Golenishtchev was writing something.\n\n\"Yes, I'm writing the second part of the _Two Elements_,\" said\nGolenishtchev, coloring with pleasure at the question--\"that is, to be\nexact, I am not writing it yet; I am preparing, collecting materials. It\nwill be of far wider scope, and will touch on almost all questions. We\nin Russia refuse to see that we are the heirs of Byzantium,\" and he\nlaunched into a long and heated explanation of his views.\n\nVronsky at the first moment felt embarrassed at not even knowing of the\nfirst part of the _Two Elements_, of which the author spoke as something\nwell known. But as Golenishtchev began to lay down his opinions and\nVronsky was able to follow them even without knowing the _Two Elements_,\nhe listened to him with some interest, for Golenishtchev spoke well. But\nVronsky was startled and annoyed by the nervous irascibility with which\nGolenishtchev talked of the subject that engrossed him. As he went on\ntalking, his eyes glittered more and more angrily; he was more and more\nhurried in his replies to imaginary opponents, and his face grew more\nand more excited and worried. Remembering Golenishtchev, a thin, lively,\ngood-natured and well-bred boy, always at the head of the class, Vronsky\ncould not make out the reason of his irritability, and he did not like\nit. What he particularly disliked was that Golenishtchev, a man\nbelonging to a good set, should put himself on a level with some\nscribbling fellows, with whom he was irritated and angry. Was it worth\nit? Vronsky disliked it, yet he felt that Golenishtchev was unhappy, and\nwas sorry for him. Unhappiness, almost mental derangement, was visible\non his mobile, rather handsome face, while without even noticing Anna's\ncoming in, he went on hurriedly and hotly expressing his views.\n\nWhen Anna came in in her hat and cape, and her lovely hand rapidly\nswinging her parasol, and stood beside him, it was with a feeling of\nrelief that Vronsky broke away from the plaintive eyes of Golenishtchev\nwhich fastened persistently upon him, and with a fresh rush of love\nlooked at his charming companion, full of life and happiness.\nGolenishtchev recovered himself with an effort, and at first was\ndejected and gloomy, but Anna, disposed to feel friendly with everyone\nas she was at that time, soon revived his spirits by her direct and\nlively manner. After trying various subjects of conversation, she got\nhim upon painting, of which he talked very well, and she listened to him\nattentively. They walked to the house they had taken, and looked over\nit.\n\n\"I am very glad of one thing,\" said Anna to Golenishtchev when they were\non their way back, \"Alexey will have a capital _atelier_. You must\ncertainly take that room,\" she said to Vronsky in Russian, using the\naffectionately familiar form as though she saw that Golenishtchev would\nbecome intimate with them in their isolation, and that there was no need\nof reserve before him.\n\n\"Do you paint?\" said Golenishtchev, turning round quickly to Vronsky.\n\n\"Yes, I used to study long ago, and now I have begun to do a little,\"\nsaid Vronsky, reddening.\n\n\"He has great talent,\" said Anna with a delighted smile. \"I'm no judge,\nof course. But good judges have said the same.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\n\nAnna, in that first period of her emancipation and rapid return to\nhealth, felt herself unpardonably happy and full of the joy of life. The\nthought of her husband's unhappiness did not poison her happiness. On\none side that memory was too awful to be thought of. On the other side\nher husband's unhappiness had given her too much happiness to be\nregretted. The memory of all that had happened after her illness: her\nreconciliation with her husband, its breakdown, the news of Vronsky's\nwound, his visit, the preparations for divorce, the departure from her\nhusband's house, the parting from her son--all that seemed to her like a\ndelirious dream, from which she had waked up alone with Vronsky abroad.\nThe thought of the harm caused to her husband aroused in her a feeling\nlike repulsion, and akin to what a drowning man might feel who has\nshaken off another man clinging to him. That man did drown. It was an\nevil action, of course, but it was the sole means of escape, and better\nnot to brood over these fearful facts.\n\nOne consolatory reflection upon her conduct had occurred to her at the\nfirst moment of the final rupture, and when now she recalled all the\npast, she remembered that one reflection. \"I have inevitably made that\nman wretched,\" she thought; \"but I don't want to profit by his misery. I\ntoo am suffering, and shall suffer; I am losing what I prized above\neverything--I am losing my good name and my son. I have done wrong, and\nso I don't want happiness, I don't want a divorce, and shall suffer from\nmy shame and the separation from my child.\" But, however sincerely Anna\nhad meant to suffer, she was not suffering. Shame there was not. With\nthe tact of which both had such a large share, they had succeeded in\navoiding Russian ladies abroad, and so had never placed themselves in a\nfalse position, and everywhere they had met people who pretended that\nthey perfectly understood their position, far better indeed than they\ndid themselves. Separation from the son she loved--even that did not\ncause her anguish in these early days. The baby girl--_his_ child--was\nso sweet, and had so won Anna's heart, since she was all that was left\nher, that Anna rarely thought of her son.\n\nThe desire for life, waxing stronger with recovered health, was so\nintense, and the conditions of life were so new and pleasant, that Anna\nfelt unpardonably happy. The more she got to know Vronsky, the more she\nloved him. She loved him for himself, and for his love for her. Her\ncomplete ownership of him was a continual joy to her. His presence was\nalways sweet to her. All the traits of his character, which she learned\nto know better and better, were unutterably dear to her. His appearance,\nchanged by his civilian dress, was as fascinating to her as though she\nwere some young girl in love. In everything he said, thought, and did,\nshe saw something particularly noble and elevated. Her adoration of him\nalarmed her indeed; she sought and could not find in him anything not\nfine. She dared not show him her sense of her own insignificance beside\nhim. It seemed to her that, knowing this, he might sooner cease to love\nher; and she dreaded nothing now so much as losing his love, though she\nhad no grounds for fearing it. But she could not help being grateful to\nhim for his attitude to her, and showing that she appreciated it. He,\nwho had in her opinion such a marked aptitude for a political career, in\nwhich he would have been certain to play a leading part--he had\nsacrificed his ambition for her sake, and never betrayed the slightest\nregret. He was more lovingly respectful to her than ever, and the\nconstant care that she should not feel the awkwardness of her position\nnever deserted him for a single instant. He, so manly a man, never\nopposed her, had indeed, with her, no will of his own, and was anxious,\nit seemed, for nothing but to anticipate her wishes. And she could not\nbut appreciate this, even though the very intensity of his solicitude\nfor her, the atmosphere of care with which he surrounded her, sometimes\nweighed upon her.\n\nVronsky, meanwhile, in spite of the complete realization of what he had\nso long desired, was not perfectly happy. He soon felt that the\nrealization of his desires gave him no more than a grain of sand out of\nthe mountain of happiness he had expected. It showed him the mistake men\nmake in picturing to themselves happiness as the realization of their\ndesires. For a time after joining his life to hers, and putting on\ncivilian dress, he had felt all the delight of freedom in general of\nwhich he had known nothing before, and of freedom in his love,--and he\nwas content, but not for long. He was soon aware that there was\nspringing up in his heart a desire for desires--_ennui_. Without\nconscious intention he began to clutch at every passing caprice, taking\nit for a desire and an object. Sixteen hours of the day must be occupied\nin some way, since they were living abroad in complete freedom, outside\nthe conditions of social life which filled up time in Petersburg. As for\nthe amusements of bachelor existence, which had provided Vronsky with\nentertainment on previous tours abroad, they could not be thought of,\nsince the sole attempt of the sort had led to a sudden attack of\ndepression in Anna, quite out of proportion with the cause--a late\nsupper with bachelor friends. Relations with the society of the\nplace--foreign and Russian--were equally out of the question owing to\nthe irregularity of their position. The inspection of objects of\ninterest, apart from the fact that everything had been seen already, had\nnot for Vronsky, a Russian and a sensible man, the immense significance\nEnglishmen are able to attach to that pursuit.\n\nAnd just as the hungry stomach eagerly accepts every object it can get,\nhoping to find nourishment in it, Vronsky quite unconsciously clutched\nfirst at politics, then at new books, and then at pictures.\n\nAs he had from a child a taste for painting, and as, not knowing what to\nspend his money on, he had begun collecting engravings, he came to a\nstop at painting, began to take interest in it, and concentrated upon it\nthe unoccupied mass of desires which demanded satisfaction.\n\nHe had a ready appreciation of art, and probably, with a taste for\nimitating art, he supposed himself to have the real thing essential for\nan artist, and after hesitating for some time which style of painting to\nselect--religious, historical, realistic, or genre painting--he set to\nwork to paint. He appreciated all kinds, and could have felt inspired by\nany one of them; but he had no conception of the possibility of knowing\nnothing at all of any school of painting, and of being inspired directly\nby what is within the soul, without caring whether what is painted will\nbelong to any recognized school. Since he knew nothing of this, and drew\nhis inspiration, not directly from life, but indirectly from life\nembodied in art, his inspiration came very quickly and easily, and as\nquickly and easily came his success in painting something very similar\nto the sort of painting he was trying to imitate.\n\nMore than any other style he liked the French--graceful and\neffective--and in that style he began to paint Anna's portrait in\nItalian costume, and the portrait seemed to him, and to everyone who saw\nit, extremely successful.\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\n\nThe old neglected palazzo, with its lofty carved ceilings and frescoes\non the walls, with its floors of mosaic, with its heavy yellow stuff\ncurtains on the windows, with its vases on pedestals, and its open\nfireplaces, its carved doors and gloomy reception rooms, hung with\npictures--this palazzo did much, by its very appearance after they had\nmoved into it, to confirm in Vronsky the agreeable illusion that he was\nnot so much a Russian country gentleman, a retired army officer, as an\nenlightened amateur and patron of the arts, himself a modest artist who\nhad renounced the world, his connections, and his ambition for the sake\nof the woman he loved.\n\nThe pose chosen by Vronsky with their removal into the palazzo was\ncompletely successful, and having, through Golenishtchev, made\nacquaintance with a few interesting people, for a time he was satisfied.\nHe painted studies from nature under the guidance of an Italian\nprofessor of painting, and studied mediaeval Italian life. Mediaeval\nItalian life so fascinated Vronsky that he even wore a hat and flung a\ncloak over his shoulder in the mediaeval style, which, indeed, was\nextremely becoming to him.\n\n\"Here we live, and know nothing of what's going on,\" Vronsky said to\nGolenishtchev as he came to see him one morning. \"Have you seen\nMihailov's picture?\" he said, handing him a Russian gazette he had\nreceived that morning, and pointing to an article on a Russian artist,\nliving in the very same town, and just finishing a picture which had\nlong been talked about, and had been bought beforehand. The article\nreproached the government and the academy for letting so remarkable an\nartist be left without encouragement and support.\n\n\"I've seen it,\" answered Golenishtchev. \"Of course, he's not without\ntalent, but it's all in a wrong direction. It's all the\nIvanov-Strauss-Renan attitude to Christ and to religious painting.\"\n\n\"What is the subject of the picture?\" asked Anna.\n\n\"Christ before Pilate. Christ is represented as a Jew with all the\nrealism of the new school.\"\n\nAnd the question of the subject of the picture having brought him to one\nof his favorite theories, Golenishtchev launched forth into a\ndisquisition on it.\n\n\"I can't understand how they can fall into such a gross mistake. Christ\nalways has His definite embodiment in the art of the great masters. And\ntherefore, if they want to depict, not God, but a revolutionist or a\nsage, let them take from history a Socrates, a Franklin, a Charlotte\nCorday, but not Christ. They take the very figure which cannot be taken\nfor their art, and then...\"\n\n\"And is it true that this Mihailov is in such poverty?\" asked Vronsky,\nthinking that, as a Russian Maecenas, it was his duty to assist the\nartist regardless of whether the picture were good or bad.\n\n\"I should say not. He's a remarkable portrait-painter. Have you ever\nseen his portrait of Madame Vassiltchikova? But I believe he doesn't\ncare about painting any more portraits, and so very likely he is in\nwant. I maintain that...\"\n\n\"Couldn't we ask him to paint a portrait of Anna Arkadyevna?\" said\nVronsky.\n\n\"Why mine?\" said Anna. \"After yours I don't want another portrait.\nBetter have one of Annie\" (so she called her baby girl). \"Here she is,\"\nshe added, looking out of the window at the handsome Italian nurse, who\nwas carrying the child out into the garden, and immediately glancing\nunnoticed at Vronsky. The handsome nurse, from whom Vronsky was painting\na head for his picture, was the one hidden grief in Anna's life. He\npainted with her as his model, admired her beauty and mediaevalism, and\nAnna dared not confess to herself that she was afraid of becoming\njealous of this nurse, and was for that reason particularly gracious and\ncondescending both to her and her little son. Vronsky, too, glanced out\nof the window and into Anna's eyes, and, turning at once to\nGolenishtchev, he said:\n\n\"Do you know this Mihailov?\"\n\n\"I have met him. But he's a queer fish, and quite without breeding. You\nknow, one of those uncouth new people one's so often coming across\nnowadays, one of those free-thinkers you know, who are reared _d'emblee_\nin theories of atheism, scepticism, and materialism. In former days,\"\nsaid Golenishtchev, not observing, or not willing to observe, that both\nAnna and Vronsky wanted to speak, \"in former days the free-thinker was a\nman who had been brought up in ideas of religion, law, and morality, and\nonly through conflict and struggle came to free-thought; but now there\nhas sprung up a new type of born free-thinkers who grow up without even\nhaving heard of principles of morality or of religion, of the existence\nof authorities, who grow up directly in ideas of negation in everything,\nthat is to say, savages. Well, he's of that class. He's the son, it\nappears, of some Moscow butler, and has never had any sort of\nbringing-up. When he got into the academy and made his reputation he\ntried, as he's no fool, to educate himself. And he turned to what seemed\nto him the very source of culture--the magazines. In old times, you see,\na man who wanted to educate himself--a Frenchman, for instance--would\nhave set to work to study all the classics and theologians and\ntragedians and historiaris and philosophers, and, you know, all the\nintellectual work that came in his way. But in our day he goes straight\nfor the literature of negation, very quickly assimilates all the\nextracts of the science of negation, and he's ready. And that's not\nall--twenty years ago he would have found in that literature traces of\nconflict with authorities, with the creeds of the ages; he would have\nperceived from this conflict that there was something else; but now he\ncomes at once upon a literature in which the old creeds do not even\nfurnish matter for discussion, but it is stated baldly that there is\nnothing else--evolution, natural selection, struggle for existence--and\nthat's all. In my article I've...\"\n\n\"I tell you what,\" said Anna, who had for a long while been exchanging\nwary glances with Vronsky, and knew that he was not in the least\ninterested in the education of this artist, but was simply absorbed by\nthe idea of assisting him, and ordering a portrait of him; \"I tell you\nwhat,\" she said, resolutely interrupting Golenishtchev, who was still\ntalking away, \"let's go and see him!\"\n\nGolenishtchev recovered his self-possession and readily agreed. But as\nthe artist lived in a remote suburb, it was decided to take the\ncarriage.\n\nAn hour later Anna, with Golenishtchev by her side and Vronsky on the\nfront seat of the carriage, facing them, drove up to a new ugly house in\nthe remote suburb. On learning from the porter's wife, who came out to\nthem, that Mihailov saw visitors at his studio, but that at that moment\nhe was in his lodging only a couple of steps off, they sent her to him\nwith their cards, asking permission to see his picture.\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\n\nThe artist Mihailov was, as always, at work when the cards of Count\nVronsky and Golenishtchev were brought to him. In the morning he had\nbeen working in his studio at his big picture. On getting home he flew\ninto a rage with his wife for not having managed to put off the\nlandlady, who had been asking for money.\n\n\"I've said it to you twenty times, don't enter into details. You're fool\nenough at all times, and when you start explaining things in Italian\nyou're a fool three times as foolish,\" he said after a long dispute.\n\n\"Don't let it run so long; it's not my fault. If I had the money...\"\n\n\"Leave me in peace, for God's sake!\" Mihailov shrieked, with tears in\nhis voice, and, stopping his ears, he went off into his working room,\nthe other side of a partition wall, and closed the door after him.\n\"Idiotic woman!\" he said to himself, sat down to the table, and, opening\na portfolio, he set to work at once with peculiar fervor at a sketch he\nhad begun.\n\nNever did he work with such fervor and success as when things went ill\nwith him, and especially when he quarreled with his wife. \"Oh! damn them\nall!\" he thought as he went on working. He was making a sketch for the\nfigure of a man in a violent rage. A sketch had been made before, but he\nwas dissatisfied with it. \"No, that one was better ... where is it?\" He\nwent back to his wife, and scowling, and not looking at her, asked his\neldest little girl, where was that piece of paper he had given them? The\npaper with the discarded sketch on it was found, but it was dirty, and\nspotted with candle-grease. Still, he took the sketch, laid it on his\ntable, and, moving a little away, screwing up his eyes, he fell to\ngazing at it. All at once he smiled and gesticulated gleefully.\n\n\"That's it! that's it!\" he said, and, at once picking up the pencil, he\nbegan rapidly drawing. The spot of tallow had given the man a new pose.\n\nHe had sketched this new pose, when all at once he recalled the face of\na shopkeeper of whom he had bought cigars, a vigorous face with a\nprominent chin, and he sketched this very face, this chin on to the\nfigure of the man. He laughed aloud with delight. The figure from a\nlifeless imagined thing had become living, and such that it could never\nbe changed. That figure lived, and was clearly and unmistakably defined.\nThe sketch might be corrected in accordance with the requirements of the\nfigure, the legs, indeed, could and must be put differently, and the\nposition of the left hand must be quite altered; the hair too might be\nthrown back. But in making these corrections he was not altering the\nfigure but simply getting rid of what concealed the figure. He was, as\nit were, stripping off the wrappings which hindered it from being\ndistinctly seen. Each new feature only brought out the whole figure in\nall its force and vigor, as it had suddenly come to him from the spot of\ntallow. He was carefully finishing the figure when the cards were\nbrought him.\n\n\"Coming, coming!\"\n\nHe went in to his wife.\n\n\"Come, Sasha, don't be cross!\" he said, smiling timidly and\naffectionately at her. \"You were to blame. I was to blame. I'll make it\nall right.\" And having made peace with his wife he put on an olive-green\novercoat with a velvet collar and a hat, and went towards his studio.\nThe successful figure he had already forgotten. Now he was delighted and\nexcited at the visit of these people of consequence, Russians, who had\ncome in their carriage.\n\nOf his picture, the one that stood now on his easel, he had at the\nbottom of his heart one conviction--that no one had ever painted a\npicture like it. He did not believe that his picture was better than all\nthe pictures of Raphael, but he knew that what he tried to convey in\nthat picture, no one ever had conveyed. This he knew positively, and had\nknown a long while, ever since he had begun to paint it. But other\npeople's criticisms, whatever they might be, had yet immense consequence\nin his eyes, and they agitated him to the depths of his soul. Any\nremark, the most insignificant, that showed that the critic saw even the\ntiniest part of what he saw in the picture, agitated him to the depths\nof his soul. He always attributed to his critics a more profound\ncomprehension than he had himself, and always expected from them\nsomething he did not himself see in the picture. And often in their\ncriticisms he fancied that he had found this.\n\nHe walked rapidly to the door of his studio, and in spite of his\nexcitement he was struck by the soft light on Anna's figure as she stood\nin the shade of the entrance listening to Golenishtchev, who was eagerly\ntelling her something, while she evidently wanted to look round at the\nartist. He was himself unconscious how, as he approached them, he seized\non this impression and absorbed it, as he had the chin of the shopkeeper\nwho had sold him the cigars, and put it away somewhere to be brought out\nwhen he wanted it. The visitors, not agreeably impressed beforehand by\nGolenishtchev's account of the artist, were still less so by his\npersonal appearance. Thick-set and of middle height, with nimble\nmovements, with his brown hat, olive-green coat and narrow\ntrousers--though wide trousers had been a long while in fashion,--most\nof all, with the ordinariness of his broad face, and the combined\nexpression of timidity and anxiety to keep up his dignity, Mihailov made\nan unpleasant impression.\n\n\"Please step in,\" he said, trying to look indifferent, and going into\nthe passage he took a key out of his pocket and opened the door.\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\n\nOn entering the studio, Mihailov once more scanned his visitors and\nnoted down in his imagination Vronsky's expression too, and especially\nhis jaws. Although his artistic sense was unceasingly at work collecting\nmaterials, although he felt a continually increasing excitement as the\nmoment of criticizing his work drew nearer, he rapidly and subtly\nformed, from imperceptible signs, a mental image of these three persons.\n\nThat fellow (Golenishtchev) was a Russian living here. Mihailov did not\nremember his surname nor where he had met him, nor what he had said to\nhim. He only remembered his face as he remembered all the faces he had\never seen; but he remembered, too, that it was one of the faces laid by\nin his memory in the immense class of the falsely consequential and poor\nin expression. The abundant hair and very open forehead gave an\nappearance of consequence to the face, which had only one expression--a\npetty, childish, peevish expression, concentrated just above the bridge\nof the narrow nose. Vronsky and Madame Karenina must be, Mihailov\nsupposed, distinguished and wealthy Russians, knowing nothing about art,\nlike all those wealthy Russians, but posing as amateurs and\nconnoisseurs. \"Most likely they've already looked at all the antiques,\nand now they're making the round of the studios of the new people, the\nGerman humbug, and the cracked Pre-Raphaelite English fellow, and have\nonly come to me to make the point of view complete,\" he thought. He was\nwell acquainted with the way dilettanti have (the cleverer they were the\nworse he found them) of looking at the works of contemporary artists\nwith the sole object of being in a position to say that art is a thing\nof the past, and that the more one sees of the new men the more one sees\nhow inimitable the works of the great old masters have remained. He\nexpected all this; he saw it all in their faces, he saw it in the\ncareless indifference with which they talked among themselves, stared at\nthe lay figures and busts, and walked about in leisurely fashion,\nwaiting for him to uncover his picture. But in spite of this, while he\nwas turning over his studies, pulling up the blinds and taking off the\nsheet, he was in intense excitement, especially as, in spite of his\nconviction that all distinguished and wealthy Russians were certain to\nbe beasts and fools, he liked Vronsky, and still more Anna.\n\n\"Here, if you please,\" he said, moving on one side with his nimble gait\nand pointing to his picture, \"it's the exhortation to Pilate. Matthew,\nchapter xxvii,\" he said, feeling his lips were beginning to tremble with\nemotion. He moved away and stood behind them.\n\nFor the few seconds during which the visitors were gazing at the picture\nin silence Mihailov too gazed at it with the indifferent eye of an\noutsider. For those few seconds he was sure in anticipation that a\nhigher, juster criticism would be uttered by them, by those very\nvisitors whom he had been so despising a moment before. He forgot all he\nhad thought about his picture before during the three years he had been\npainting it; he forgot all its qualities which had been absolutely\ncertain to him--he saw the picture with their indifferent, new, outside\neyes, and saw nothing good in it. He saw in the foreground Pilate's\nirritated face and the serene face of Christ, and in the background the\nfigures of Pilate's retinue and the face of John watching what was\nhappening. Every face that, with such agony, such blunders and\ncorrections had grown up within him with its special character, every\nface that had given him such torments and such raptures, and all these\nfaces so many times transposed for the sake of the harmony of the whole,\nall the shades of color and tones that he had attained with such\nlabor--all of this together seemed to him now, looking at it with their\neyes, the merest vulgarity, something that had been done a thousand\ntimes over. The face dearest to him, the face of Christ, the center of\nthe picture, which had given him such ecstasy as it unfolded itself to\nhim, was utterly lost to him when he glanced at the picture with their\neyes. He saw a well-painted (no, not even that--he distinctly saw now a\nmass of defects) repetition of those endless Christs of Titian, Raphael,\nRubens, and the same soldiers and Pilate. It was all common, poor, and\nstale, and positively badly painted--weak and unequal. They would be\njustified in repeating hypocritically civil speeches in the presence of\nthe painter, and pitying him and laughing at him when they were alone\nagain.\n\nThe silence (though it lasted no more than a minute) became too\nintolerable to him. To break it, and to show he was not agitated, he\nmade an effort and addressed Golenishtchev.\n\n\"I think I've had the pleasure of meeting you,\" he said, looking\nuneasily first at Anna, then at Vronsky, in fear of losing any shade of\ntheir expression.\n\n\"To be sure! We met at Rossi's, do you remember, at that _soiree_ when\nthat Italian lady recited--the new Rachel?\" Golenishtchev answered\neasily, removing his eyes without the slightest regret from the picture\nand turning to the artist.\n\nNoticing, however, that Mihailov was expecting a criticism of the\npicture, he said:\n\n\"Your picture has got on a great deal since I saw it last time; and what\nstrikes me particularly now, as it did then, is the figure of Pilate.\nOne so knows the man: a good-natured, capital fellow, but an official\nthrough and through, who does not know what it is he's doing. But I\nfancy...\"\n\nAll Mihailov's mobile face beamed at once; his eyes sparkled. He tried\nto say something, but he could not speak for excitement, and pretended\nto be coughing. Low as was his opinion of Golenishtchev's capacity for\nunderstanding art, trifling as was the true remark upon the fidelity of\nthe expression of Pilate as an official, and offensive as might have\nseemed the utterance of so unimportant an observation while nothing was\nsaid of more serious points, Mihailov was in an ecstasy of delight at\nthis observation. He had himself thought about Pilate's figure just what\nGolenishtchev said. The fact that this reflection was but one of\nmillions of reflections, which as Mihailov knew for certain would be\ntrue, did not diminish for him the significance of Golenishtchev's\nremark. His heart warmed to Golenishtchev for this remark, and from a\nstate of depression he suddenly passed to ecstasy. At once the whole of\nhis picture lived before him in all the indescribable complexity of\neverything living. Mihailov again tried to say that that was how he\nunderstood Pilate, but his lips quivered intractably, and he could not\npronounce the words. Vronsky and Anna too said something in that subdued\nvoice in which, partly to avoid hurting the artist's feelings and partly\nto avoid saying out loud something silly--so easily said when talking of\nart--people usually speak at exhibitions of pictures. Mihailov fancied\nthat the picture had made an impression on them too. He went up to them.\n\n\"How marvelous Christ's expression is!\" said Anna. Of all she saw she\nliked that expression most of all, and she felt that it was the center\nof the picture, and so praise of it would be pleasant to the artist.\n\"One can see that He is pitying Pilate.\"\n\nThis again was one of the million true reflections that could be found\nin his picture and in the figure of Christ. She said that He was pitying\nPilate. In Christ's expression there ought to be indeed an expression of\npity, since there is an expression of love, of heavenly peace, of\nreadiness for death, and a sense of the vanity of words. Of course there\nis the expression of an official in Pilate and of pity in Christ, seeing\nthat one is the incarnation of the fleshly and the other of the\nspiritual life. All this and much more flashed into Mihailov's thoughts.\n\n\"Yes, and how that figure is done--what atmosphere! One can walk round\nit,\" said Golenishtchev, unmistakably betraying by this remark that he\ndid not approve of the meaning and idea of the figure.\n\n\"Yes, there's a wonderful mastery!\" said Vronsky. \"How those figures in\nthe background stand out! There you have technique,\" he said, addressing\nGolenishtchev, alluding to a conversation between them about Vronsky's\ndespair of attaining this technique.\n\n\"Yes, yes, marvelous!\" Golenishtchev and Anna assented. In spite of the\nexcited condition in which he was, the sentence about technique had sent\na pang to Mihailov's heart, and looking angrily at Vronsky he suddenly\nscowled. He had often heard this word technique, and was utterly unable\nto understand what was understood by it. He knew that by this term was\nunderstood a mechanical facility for painting or drawing, entirely apart\nfrom its subject. He had noticed often that even in actual praise\ntechnique was opposed to essential quality, as though one could paint\nwell something that was bad. He knew that a great deal of attention and\ncare was necessary in taking off the coverings, to avoid injuring the\ncreation itself, and to take off all the coverings; but there was no art\nof painting--no technique of any sort--about it. If to a little child or\nto his cook were revealed what he saw, it or she would have been able to\npeel the wrappings off what was seen. And the most experienced and\nadroit painter could not by mere mechanical facility paint anything if\nthe lines of the subject were not revealed to him first. Besides, he saw\nthat if it came to talking about technique, it was impossible to praise\nhim for it. In all he had painted and repainted he saw faults that hurt\nhis eyes, coming from want of care in taking off the wrappings--faults\nhe could not correct now without spoiling the whole. And in almost all\nthe figures and faces he saw, too, remnants of the wrappings not\nperfectly removed that spoiled the picture.\n\n\"One thing might be said, if you will allow me to make the remark...\"\nobserved Golenishtchev.\n\n\"Oh, I shall be delighted, I beg you,\" said Mihailov with a forced\nsmile.\n\n\"That is, that you make Him the man-god, and not the God-man. But I know\nthat was what you meant to do.\"\n\n\"I cannot paint a Christ that is not in my heart,\" said Mihailov\ngloomily.\n\n\"Yes; but in that case, if you will allow me to say what I think....\nYour picture is so fine that my observation cannot detract from it, and,\nbesides, it is only my personal opinion. With you it is different. Your\nvery motive is different. But let us take Ivanov. I imagine that if\nChrist is brought down to the level of an historical character, it would\nhave been better for Ivanov to select some other historical subject,\nfresh, untouched.\"\n\n\"But if this is the greatest subject presented to art?\"\n\n\"If one looked one would find others. But the point is that art cannot\nsuffer doubt and discussion. And before the picture of Ivanov the\nquestion arises for the believer and the unbeliever alike, 'Is it God,\nor is it not God?' and the unity of the impression is destroyed.\"\n\n\"Why so? I think that for educated people,\" said Mihailov, \"the question\ncannot exist.\"\n\nGolenishtchev did not agree with this, and confounded Mihailov by his\nsupport of his first idea of the unity of the impression being essential\nto art.\n\nMihailov was greatly perturbed, but he could say nothing in defense of\nhis own idea.\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\n\nAnna and Vronsky had long been exchanging glances, regretting their\nfriend's flow of cleverness. At last Vronsky, without waiting for the\nartist, walked away to another small picture.\n\n\"Oh, how exquisite! What a lovely thing! A gem! How exquisite!\" they\ncried with one voice.\n\n\"What is it they're so pleased with?\" thought Mihailov. He had\npositively forgotten that picture he had painted three years ago. He had\nforgotten all the agonies and the ecstasies he had lived through with\nthat picture when for several months it had been the one thought\nhaunting him day and night. He had forgotten, as he always forgot, the\npictures he had finished. He did not even like to look at it, and had\nonly brought it out because he was expecting an Englishman who wanted to\nbuy it.\n\n\"Oh, that's only an old study,\" he said.\n\n\"How fine!\" said Golenishtchev, he too, with unmistakable sincerity,\nfalling under the spell of the picture.\n\nTwo boys were angling in the shade of a willow-tree. The elder had just\ndropped in the hook, and was carefully pulling the float from behind a\nbush, entirely absorbed in what he was doing. The other, a little\nyounger, was lying in the grass leaning on his elbows, with his tangled,\nflaxen head in his hands, staring at the water with his dreamy blue\neyes. What was he thinking of?\n\nThe enthusiasm over this picture stirred some of the old feeling for it\nin Mihailov, but he feared and disliked this waste of feeling for things\npast, and so, even though this praise was grateful to him, he tried to\ndraw his visitors away to a third picture.\n\nBut Vronsky asked whether the picture was for sale. To Mihailov at that\nmoment, excited by visitors, it was extremely distasteful to speak of\nmoney matters.\n\n\"It is put up there to be sold,\" he answered, scowling gloomily.\n\nWhen the visitors had gone, Mihailov sat down opposite the picture of\nPilate and Christ, and in his mind went over what had been said, and\nwhat, though not said, had been implied by those visitors. And, strange\nto say, what had had such weight with him, while they were there and\nwhile he mentally put himself at their point of view, suddenly lost all\nimportance for him. He began to look at his picture with all his own\nfull artist vision, and was soon in that mood of conviction of the\nperfectibility, and so of the significance, of his picture--a conviction\nessential to the most intense fervor, excluding all other interests--in\nwhich alone he could work.\n\nChrist's foreshortened leg was not right, though. He took his palette\nand began to work. As he corrected the leg he looked continually at the\nfigure of John in the background, which his visitors had not even\nnoticed, but which he knew was beyond perfection. When he had finished\nthe leg he wanted to touch that figure, but he felt too much excited for\nit. He was equally unable to work when he was cold and when he was too\nmuch affected and saw everything too much. There was only one stage in\nthe transition from coldness to inspiration, at which work was possible.\nToday he was too much agitated. He would have covered the picture, but\nhe stopped, holding the cloth in his hand, and, smiling blissfully,\ngazed a long while at the figure of John. At last, as it were\nregretfully tearing himself away, he dropped the cloth, and, exhausted\nbut happy, went home.\n\nVronsky, Anna, and Golenishtchev, on their way home, were particularly\nlively and cheerful. They talked of Mihailov and his pictures. The word\n_talent_, by which they meant an inborn, almost physical, aptitude apart\nfrom brain and heart, and in which they tried to find an expression for\nall the artist had gained from life, recurred particularly often in\ntheir talk, as though it were necessary for them to sum up what they had\nno conception of, though they wanted to talk of it. They said that there\nwas no denying his talent, but that his talent could not develop for\nwant of education--the common defect of our Russian artists. But the\npicture of the boys had imprinted itself on their memories, and they\nwere continually coming back to it. \"What an exquisite thing! How he has\nsucceeded in it, and how simply! He doesn't even comprehend how good it\nis. Yes, I mustn't let it slip; I must buy it,\" said Vronsky.\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\n\nMihailov sold Vronsky his picture, and agreed to paint a portrait of\nAnna. On the day fixed he came and began the work.\n\nFrom the fifth sitting the portrait impressed everyone, especially\nVronsky, not only by its resemblance, but by its characteristic beauty.\nIt was strange how Mihailov could have discovered just her\ncharacteristic beauty. \"One needs to know and love her as I have loved\nher to discover the very sweetest expression of her soul,\" Vronsky\nthought, though it was only from this portrait that he had himself\nlearned this sweetest expression of her soul. But the expression was so\ntrue that he, and others too, fancied they had long known it.\n\n\"I have been struggling on for ever so long without doing anything,\" he\nsaid of his own portrait of her, \"and he just looked and painted it.\nThat's where technique comes in.\"\n\n\"That will come,\" was the consoling reassurance given him by\nGolenishtchev, in whose view Vronsky had both talent, and what was most\nimportant, culture, giving him a wider outlook on art. Golenishtchev's\nfaith in Vronsky's talent was propped up by his own need of Vronsky's\nsympathy and approval for his own articles and ideas, and he felt that\nthe praise and support must be mutual.\n\nIn another man's house, and especially in Vronsky's palazzo, Mihailov\nwas quite a different man from what he was in his studio. He behaved\nwith hostile courtesy, as though he were afraid of coming closer to\npeople he did not respect. He called Vronsky \"your excellency,\" and\nnotwithstanding Anna's and Vronsky's invitations, he would never stay to\ndinner, nor come except for the sittings. Anna was even more friendly to\nhim than to other people, and was very grateful for her portrait.\nVronsky was more than cordial with him, and was obviously interested to\nknow the artist's opinion of his picture. Golenishtchev never let slip\nan opportunity of instilling sound ideas about art into Mihailov. But\nMihailov remained equally chilly to all of them. Anna was aware from his\neyes that he liked looking at her, but he avoided conversation with her.\nVronsky's talk about his painting he met with stubborn silence, and he\nwas as stubbornly silent when he was shown Vronsky's picture. He was\nunmistakably bored by Golenishtchev's conversation, and he did not\nattempt to oppose him.\n\nAltogether Mihailov, with his reserved and disagreeable, as it were,\nhostile attitude, was quite disliked by them as they got to know him\nbetter; and they were glad when the sittings were over, and they were\nleft with a magnificent portrait in their possession, and he gave up\ncoming. Golenishtchev was the first to give expression to an idea that\nhad occurred to all of them, which was that Mihailov was simply jealous\nof Vronsky.\n\n\"Not envious, let us say, since he has _talent_; but it annoys him that\na wealthy man of the highest society, and a count, too (you know they\nall detest a title), can, without any particular trouble, do as well, if\nnot better, than he who has devoted all his life to it. And more than\nall, it's a question of culture, which he is without.\"\n\nVronsky defended Mihailov, but at the bottom of his heart he believed\nit, because in his view a man of a different, lower world would be sure\nto be envious.\n\nAnna's portrait--the same subject painted from nature both by him and by\nMihailov--ought to have shown Vronsky the difference between him and\nMihailov; but he did not see it. Only after Mihailov's portrait was\npainted he left off painting his portrait of Anna, deciding that it was\nnow not needed. His picture of mediaeval life he went on with. And he\nhimself, and Golenishtchev, and still more Anna, thought it very good,\nbecause it was far more like the celebrated pictures they knew than\nMihailov's picture.\n\nMihailov meanwhile, although Anna's portrait greatly fascinated him, was\neven more glad than they were when the sittings were over, and he had no\nlonger to listen to Golenishtchev's disquisitions upon art, and could\nforget about Vronsky's painting. He knew that Vronsky could not be\nprevented from amusing himself with painting; he knew that he and all\ndilettanti had a perfect right to paint what they liked, but it was\ndistasteful to him. A man could not be prevented from making himself a\nbig wax doll, and kissing it. But if the man were to come with the doll\nand sit before a man in love, and begin caressing his doll as the lover\ncaressed the woman he loved, it would be distasteful to the lover. Just\nsuch a distasteful sensation was what Mihailov felt at the sight of\nVronsky's painting: he felt it both ludicrous and irritating, both\npitiable and offensive.\n\nVronsky's interest in painting and the Middle Ages did not last long. He\nhad enough taste for painting to be unable to finish his picture. The\npicture came to a standstill. He was vaguely aware that its defects,\ninconspicuous at first, would be glaring if he were to go on with it.\nThe same experience befell him as Golenishtchev, who felt that he had\nnothing to say, and continually deceived himself with the theory that\nhis idea was not yet mature, that he was working it out and collecting\nmaterials. This exasperated and tortured Golenishtchev, but Vronsky was\nincapable of deceiving and torturing himself, and even more incapable of\nexasperation. With his characteristic decision, without explanation or\napology, he simply ceased working at painting.\n\nBut without this occupation, the life of Vronsky and of Anna, who\nwondered at his loss of interest in it, struck them as intolerably\ntedious in an Italian town. The palazzo suddenly seemed so obtrusively\nold and dirty, the spots on the curtains, the cracks in the floors, the\nbroken plaster on the cornices became so disagreeably obvious, and the\neverlasting sameness of Golenishtchev, and the Italian professor and the\nGerman traveler became so wearisome, that they had to make some change.\nThey resolved to go to Russia, to the country. In Petersburg Vronsky\nintended to arrange a partition of the land with his brother, while Anna\nmeant to see her son. The summer they intended to spend on Vronsky's\ngreat family estate.\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\n\nLevin had been married three months. He was happy, but not at all in the\nway he had expected to be. At every step he found his former dreams\ndisappointed, and new, unexpected surprises of happiness. He was happy;\nbut on entering upon family life he saw at every step that it was\nutterly different from what he had imagined. At every step he\nexperienced what a man would experience who, after admiring the smooth,\nhappy course of a little boat on a lake, should get himself into that\nlittle boat. He saw that it was not all sitting still, floating\nsmoothly; that one had to think too, not for an instant to forget where\none was floating; and that there was water under one, and that one must\nrow; and that his unaccustomed hands would be sore; and that it was only\nto look at it that was easy; but that doing it, though very delightful,\nwas very difficult.\n\nAs a bachelor, when he had watched other people's married life, seen the\npetty cares, the squabbles, the jealousy, he had only smiled\ncontemptuously in his heart. In his future married life there could be,\nhe was convinced, nothing of that sort; even the external forms, indeed,\nhe fancied, must be utterly unlike the life of others in everything. And\nall of a sudden, instead of his life with his wife being made on an\nindividual pattern, it was, on the contrary, entirely made up of the\npettiest details, which he had so despised before, but which now, by no\nwill of his own, had gained an extraordinary importance that it was\nuseless to contend against. And Levin saw that the organization of all\nthese details was by no means so easy as he had fancied before. Although\nLevin believed himself to have the most exact conceptions of domestic\nlife, unconsciously, like all men, he pictured domestic life as the\nhappiest enjoyment of love, with nothing to hinder and no petty cares to\ndistract. He ought, as he conceived the position, to do his work, and to\nfind repose from it in the happiness of love. She ought to be beloved,\nand nothing more. But, like all men, he forgot that she too would want\nwork. And he was surprised that she, his poetic, exquisite Kitty, could,\nnot merely in the first weeks, but even in the first days of their\nmarried life, think, remember, and busy herself about tablecloths, and\nfurniture, about mattresses for visitors, about a tray, about the cook,\nand the dinner, and so on. While they were still engaged, he had been\nstruck by the definiteness with which she had declined the tour abroad\nand decided to go into the country, as though she knew of something she\nwanted, and could still think of something outside her love. This had\njarred upon him then, and now her trivial cares and anxieties jarred\nupon him several times. But he saw that this was essential for her. And,\nloving her as he did, though he did not understand the reason of them,\nand jeered at these domestic pursuits, he could not help admiring them.\nHe jeered at the way in which she arranged the furniture they had\nbrought from Moscow; rearranged their room; hung up curtains; prepared\nrooms for visitors; a room for Dolly; saw after an abode for her new\nmaid; ordered dinner of the old cook; came into collision with Agafea\nMihalovna, taking from her the charge of the stores. He saw how the old\ncook smiled, admiring her, and listening to her inexperienced,\nimpossible orders, how mournfully and tenderly Agafea Mihalovna shook\nher head over the young mistress's new arrangements. He saw that Kitty\nwas extraordinarily sweet when, laughing and crying, she came to tell\nhim that her maid, Masha, was used to looking upon her as her young\nlady, and so no one obeyed her. It seemed to him sweet, but strange, and\nhe thought it would have been better without this.\n\nHe did not know how great a sense of change she was experiencing; she,\nwho at home had sometimes wanted some favorite dish, or sweets, without\nthe possibility of getting either, now could order what she liked, buy\npounds of sweets, spend as much money as she liked, and order any\npuddings she pleased.\n\nShe was dreaming with delight now of Dolly's coming to them with her\nchildren, especially because she would order for the children their\nfavorite puddings and Dolly would appreciate all her new housekeeping.\nShe did not know herself why and wherefore, but the arranging of her\nhouse had an irresistible attraction for her. Instinctively feeling the\napproach of spring, and knowing that there would be days of rough\nweather too, she built her nest as best she could, and was in haste at\nthe same time to build it and to learn how to do it.\n\nThis care for domestic details in Kitty, so opposed to Levin's ideal of\nexalted happiness, was at first one of the disappointments; and this\nsweet care of her household, the aim of which he did not understand, but\ncould not help loving, was one of the new happy surprises.\n\nAnother disappointment and happy surprise came in their quarrels. Levin\ncould never have conceived that between him and his wife any relations\ncould arise other than tender, respectful and loving, and all at once in\nthe very early days they quarreled, so that she said he did not care for\nher, that he cared for no one but himself, burst into tears, and wrung\nher arms.\n\nThis first quarrel arose from Levin's having gone out to a new farmhouse\nand having been away half an hour too long, because he had tried to get\nhome by a short cut and had lost his way. He drove home thinking of\nnothing but her, of her love, of his own happiness, and the nearer he\ndrew to home, the warmer was his tenderness for her. He ran into the\nroom with the same feeling, with an even stronger feeling than he had\nhad when he reached the Shtcherbatskys' house to make his offer. And\nsuddenly he was met by a lowering expression he had never seen in her.\nHe would have kissed her; she pushed him away.\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"You've been enjoying yourself,\" she began, trying to be calm and\nspiteful. But as soon as she opened her mouth, a stream of reproach, of\nsenseless jealousy, of all that had been torturing her during that half\nhour which she had spent sitting motionless at the window, burst from\nher. It was only then, for the first time, that he clearly understood\nwhat he had not understood when he led her out of the church after the\nwedding. He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he\ndid not know where he ended and she began. He felt this from the\nagonizing sensation of division that he experienced at that instant. He\nwas offended for the first instant, but the very same second he felt\nthat he could not be offended by her, that she was himself. He felt for\nthe first moment as a man feels when, having suddenly received a violent\nblow from behind, he turns round, angry and eager to avenge himself, to\nlook for his antagonist, and finds that it is he himself who has\naccidentally struck himself, that there is no one to be angry with, and\nthat he must put up with and try to soothe the pain.\n\nNever afterwards did he feel it with such intensity, but this first time\nhe could not for a long while get over it. His natural feeling urged him\nto defend himself, to prove to her she was wrong; but to prove her wrong\nwould mean irritating her still more and making the rupture greater that\nwas the cause of all his suffering. One habitual feeling impelled him to\nget rid of the blame and to pass it on to her. Another feeling, even\nstronger, impelled him as quickly as possible to smooth over the rupture\nwithout letting it grow greater. To remain under such undeserved\nreproach was wretched, but to make her suffer by justifying himself was\nworse still. Like a man half-awake in an agony of pain, he wanted to\ntear out, to fling away the aching place, and coming to his senses, he\nfelt that the aching place was himself. He could do nothing but try to\nhelp the aching place to bear it, and this he tried to do.\n\nThey made peace. She, recognizing that she was wrong, though she did not\nsay so, became tenderer to him, and they experienced new, redoubled\nhappiness in their love. But that did not prevent such quarrels from\nhappening again, and exceedingly often too, on the most unexpected and\ntrivial grounds. These quarrels frequently arose from the fact that they\ndid not yet know what was of importance to each other and that all this\nearly period they were both often in a bad temper. When one was in a\ngood temper, and the other in a bad temper, the peace was not broken;\nbut when both happened to be in an ill-humor, quarrels sprang up from\nsuch incomprehensibly trifling causes, that they could never remember\nafterwards what they had quarreled about. It is true that when they were\nboth in a good temper their enjoyment of life was redoubled. But still\nthis first period of their married life was a difficult time for them.\n\nDuring all this early time they had a peculiarly vivid sense of tension,\nas it were, a tugging in opposite directions of the chain by which they\nwere bound. Altogether their honeymoon--that is to say, the month after\ntheir wedding--from which from tradition Levin expected so much, was not\nmerely not a time of sweetness, but remained in the memories of both as\nthe bitterest and most humiliating period in their lives. They both\nalike tried in later life to blot out from their memories all the\nmonstrous, shameful incidents of that morbid period, when both were\nrarely in a normal frame of mind, both were rarely quite themselves.\n\nIt was only in the third month of their married life, after their return\nfrom Moscow, where they had been staying for a month, that their life\nbegan to go more smoothly.\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\n\nThey had just come back from Moscow, and were glad to be alone. He was\nsitting at the writing table in his study, writing. She, wearing the\ndark lilac dress she had worn during the first days of their married\nlife, and put on again today, a dress particularly remembered and loved\nby him, was sitting on the sofa, the same old-fashioned leather sofa\nwhich had always stood in the study in Levin's father's and\ngrandfather's days. She was sewing at _broderie anglaise_. He thought\nand wrote, never losing the happy consciousness of her presence. His\nwork, both on the land and on the book, in which the principles of the\nnew land system were to be laid down, had not been abandoned; but just\nas formerly these pursuits and ideas had seemed to him petty and trivial\nin comparison with the darkness that overspread all life, now they\nseemed as unimportant and petty in comparison with the life that lay\nbefore him suffused with the brilliant light of happiness. He went on\nwith his work, but he felt now that the center of gravity of his\nattention had passed to something else, and that consequently he looked\nat his work quite differently and more clearly. Formerly this work had\nbeen for him an escape from life. Formerly he had felt that without this\nwork his life would be too gloomy. Now these pursuits were necessary for\nhim that life might not be too uniformly bright. Taking up his\nmanuscript, reading through what he had written, he found with pleasure\nthat the work was worth his working at. Many of his old ideas seemed to\nhim superfluous and extreme, but many blanks became distinct to him when\nhe reviewed the whole thing in his memory. He was writing now a new\nchapter on the causes of the present disastrous condition of agriculture\nin Russia. He maintained that the poverty of Russia arises not merely\nfrom the anomalous distribution of landed property and misdirected\nreforms, but that what had contributed of late years to this result was\nthe civilization from without abnormally grafted upon Russia, especially\nfacilities of communication, as railways, leading to centralization in\ntowns, the development of luxury, and the consequent development of\nmanufactures, credit and its accompaniment of speculation--all to the\ndetriment of agriculture. It seemed to him that in a normal development\nof wealth in a state all these phenomena would arise only when a\nconsiderable amount of labor had been put into agriculture, when it had\ncome under regular, or at least definite, conditions; that the wealth of\na country ought to increase proportionally, and especially in such a way\nthat other sources of wealth should not outstrip agriculture; that in\nharmony with a certain stage of agriculture there should be means of\ncommunication corresponding to it, and that in our unsettled condition\nof the land, railways, called into being by political and not by\neconomic needs, were premature, and instead of promoting agriculture, as\nwas expected of them, they were competing with agriculture and promoting\nthe development of manufactures and credit, and so arresting its\nprogress; and that just as the one-sided and premature development of\none organ in an animal would hinder its general development, so in the\ngeneral development of wealth in Russia, credit, facilities of\ncommunication, manufacturing activity, indubitably necessary in Europe,\nwhere they had arisen in their proper time, had with us only done harm,\nby throwing into the background the chief question calling for\nsettlement--the question of the organization of agriculture.\n\nWhile he was writing his ideas she was thinking how unnaturally cordial\nher husband had been to young Prince Tcharsky, who had, with great want\nof tact, flirted with her the day before they left Moscow. \"He's\njealous,\" she thought. \"Goodness! how sweet and silly he is! He's\njealous of me! If he knew that I think no more of them than of Piotr the\ncook,\" she thought, looking at his head and red neck with a feeling of\npossession strange to herself. \"Though it's a pity to take him from his\nwork (but he has plenty of time!), I must look at his face; will he feel\nI'm looking at him? I wish he'd turn round ... I'll _will_ him to!\" and\nshe opened her eyes wide, as though to intensify the influence of her\ngaze.\n\n\"Yes, they draw away all the sap and give a false appearance of\nprosperity,\" he muttered, stopping to write, and, feeling that she was\nlooking at him and smiling, he looked round.\n\n\"Well?\" he queried, smiling, and getting up.\n\n\"He looked round,\" she thought.\n\n\"It's nothing; I wanted you to look round,\" she said, watching him, and\ntrying to guess whether he was vexed at being interrupted or not.\n\n\"How happy we are alone together!--I am, that is,\" he said, going up to\nher with a radiant smile of happiness.\n\n\"I'm just as happy. I'll never go anywhere, especially not to Moscow.\"\n\n\"And what were you thinking about?\"\n\n\"I? I was thinking.... No, no, go along, go on writing; don't break\noff,\" she said, pursing up her lips, \"and I must cut out these little\nholes now, do you see?\"\n\nShe took up her scissors and began cutting them out.\n\n\"No; tell me, what was it?\" he said, sitting down beside her and\nwatching the tiny scissors moving round.\n\n\"Oh! what was I thinking about? I was thinking about Moscow, about the\nback of your head.\"\n\n\"Why should I, of all people, have such happiness! It's unnatural, too\ngood,\" he said, kissing her hand.\n\n\"I feel quite the opposite; the better things are, the more natural it\nseems to me.\"\n\n\"And you've got a little curl loose,\" he said, carefully turning her\nhead round.\n\n\"A little curl, oh yes. No, no, we are busy at our work!\"\n\nWork did not progress further, and they darted apart from one another\nlike culprits when Kouzma came in to announce that tea was ready.\n\n\"Have they come from the town?\" Levin asked Kouzma.\n\n\"They've just come; they're unpacking the things.\"\n\n\"Come quickly,\" she said to him as she went out of the study, \"or else I\nshall read your letters without you.\"\n\nLeft alone, after putting his manuscripts together in the new portfolio\nbought by her, he washed his hands at the new washstand with the elegant\nfittings, that had all made their appearance with her. Levin smiled at\nhis own thoughts, and shook his head disapprovingly at those thoughts; a\nfeeling akin to remorse fretted him. There was something shameful,\neffeminate, Capuan, as he called it to himself, in his present mode of\nlife. \"It's not right to go on like this,\" he thought. \"It'll soon be\nthree months, and I'm doing next to nothing. Today, almost for the first\ntime, I set to work seriously, and what happened? I did nothing but\nbegin and throw it aside. Even my ordinary pursuits I have almost given\nup. On the land I scarcely walk or drive about at all to look after\nthings. Either I am loath to leave her, or I see she's dull alone. And I\nused to think that, before marriage, life was nothing much, somehow\ndidn't count, but that after marriage, life began in earnest. And here\nalmost three months have passed, and I have spent my time so idly and\nunprofitably. No, this won't do; I must begin. Of course, it's not her\nfault. She's not to blame in any way. I ought myself to be firmer, to\nmaintain my masculine independence of action; or else I shall get into\nsuch ways, and she'll get used to them too.... Of course she's not to\nblame,\" he told himself.\n\nBut it is hard for anyone who is dissatisfied not to blame someone else,\nand especially the person nearest of all to him, for the ground of his\ndissatisfaction. And it vaguely came into Levin's mind that she herself\nwas not to blame (she could not be to blame for anything), but what was\nto blame was her education, too superficial and frivolous. (\"That fool\nTcharsky: she wanted, I know, to stop him, but didn't know how to.\")\n\"Yes, apart from her interest in the house (that she has), apart from\ndress and _broderie anglaise_, she has no serious interests. No interest\nin her work, in the estate, in the peasants, nor in music, though she's\nrather good at it, nor in reading. She does nothing, and is perfectly\nsatisfied.\" Levin, in his heart, censured this, and did not as yet\nunderstand that she was preparing for that period of activity which was\nto come for her when she would at once be the wife of her husband and\nmistress of the house, and would bear, and nurse, and bring up children.\nHe knew not that she was instinctively aware of this, and preparing\nherself for this time of terrible toil, did not reproach herself for the\nmoments of carelessness and happiness in her love that she enjoyed now\nwhile gaily building her nest for the future.\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\n\nWhen Levin went upstairs, his wife was sitting near the new silver\nsamovar behind the new tea service, and, having settled old Agafea\nMihalovna at a little table with a full cup of tea, was reading a letter\nfrom Dolly, with whom they were in continual and frequent\ncorrespondence.\n\n\"You see, your good lady's settled me here, told me to sit a bit with\nher,\" said Agafea Mihalovna, smiling affectionately at Kitty.\n\nIn these words of Agafea Mihalovna, Levin read the final act of the\ndrama which had been enacted of late between her and Kitty. He saw that,\nin spite of Agafea Mihalovna's feelings being hurt by a new mistress\ntaking the reins of government out of her hands, Kitty had yet conquered\nher and made her love her.\n\n\"Here, I opened your letter too,\" said Kitty, handing him an illiterate\nletter. \"It's from that woman, I think, your brother's...\" she said. \"I\ndid not read it through. This is from my people and from Dolly. Fancy!\nDolly took Tanya and Grisha to a children's ball at the Sarmatskys':\nTanya was a French marquise.\"\n\nBut Levin did not hear her. Flushing, he took the letter from Marya\nNikolaevna, his brother's former mistress, and began to read it. This\nwas the second letter he had received from Marya Nikolaevna. In the\nfirst letter, Marya Nikolaevna wrote that his brother had sent her away\nfor no fault of hers, and, with touching simplicity, added that though\nshe was in want again, she asked for nothing, and wished for nothing,\nbut was only tormented by the thought that Nikolay Dmitrievitch would\ncome to grief without her, owing to the weak state of his health, and\nbegged his brother to look after him. Now she wrote quite differently.\nShe had found Nikolay Dmitrievitch, had again made it up with him in\nMoscow, and had moved with him to a provincial town, where he had\nreceived a post in the government service. But that he had quarreled\nwith the head official, and was on his way back to Moscow, only he had\nbeen taken so ill on the road that it was doubtful if he would ever\nleave his bed again, she wrote. \"It's always of you he has talked, and,\nbesides, he has no more money left.\"\n\n\"Read this; Dolly writes about you,\" Kitty was beginning, with a smile;\nbut she stopped suddenly, noticing the changed expression on her\nhusband's face.\n\n\"What is it? What's the matter?\"\n\n\"She writes to me that Nikolay, my brother, is at death's door. I shall\ngo to him.\"\n\nKitty's face changed at once. Thoughts of Tanya as a marquise, of Dolly,\nall had vanished.\n\n\"When are you going?\" she said.\n\n\"Tomorrow.\"\n\n\"And I will go with you, can I?\" she said.\n\n\"Kitty! What are you thinking of?\" he said reproachfully.\n\n\"How do you mean?\" offended that he should seem to take her suggestion\nunwillingly and with vexation. \"Why shouldn't I go? I shan't be in your\nway. I...\"\n\n\"I'm going because my brother is dying,\" said Levin. \"Why should you...\"\n\n\"Why? For the same reason as you.\"\n\n\"And, at a moment of such gravity for me, she only thinks of her being\ndull by herself,\" thought Levin. And this lack of candor in a matter of\nsuch gravity infuriated him.\n\n\"It's out of the question,\" he said sternly.\n\nAgafea Mihalovna, seeing that it was coming to a quarrel, gently put\ndown her cup and withdrew. Kitty did not even notice her. The tone in\nwhich her husband had said the last words wounded her, especially\nbecause he evidently did not believe what she had said.\n\n\"I tell you, that if you go, I shall come with you; I shall certainly\ncome,\" she said hastily and wrathfully. \"Why out of the question? Why do\nyou say it's out of the question?\"\n\n\"Because it'll be going God knows where, by all sorts of roads and to\nall sorts of hotels. You would be a hindrance to me,\" said Levin, trying\nto be cool.\n\n\"Not at all. I don't want anything. Where you can go, I can....\"\n\n\"Well, for one thing then, because this woman's there whom you can't\nmeet.\"\n\n\"I don't know and don't care to know who's there and what. I know that\nmy husband's brother is dying and my husband is going to him, and I go\nwith my husband too....\"\n\n\"Kitty! Don't get angry. But just think a little: this is a matter of\nsuch importance that I can't bear to think that you should bring in a\nfeeling of weakness, of dislike to being left alone. Come, you'll be\ndull alone, so go and stay at Moscow a little.\"\n\n\"There, you always ascribe base, vile motives to me,\" she said with\ntears of wounded pride and fury. \"I didn't mean, it wasn't weakness, it\nwasn't ... I feel that it's my duty to be with my husband when he's in\ntrouble, but you try on purpose to hurt me, you try on purpose not to\nunderstand....\"\n\n\"No; this is awful! To be such a slave!\" cried Levin, getting up, and\nunable to restrain his anger any longer. But at the same second he felt\nthat he was beating himself.\n\n\"Then why did you marry? You could have been free. Why did you, if you\nregret it?\" she said, getting up and running away into the drawing room.\n\nWhen he went to her, she was sobbing.\n\nHe began to speak, trying to find words not to dissuade but simply to\nsoothe her. But she did not heed him, and would not agree to anything.\nHe bent down to her and took her hand, which resisted him. He kissed her\nhand, kissed her hair, kissed her hand again--still she was silent. But\nwhen he took her face in both his hands and said \"Kitty!\" she suddenly\nrecovered herself, and began to cry, and they were reconciled.\n\nIt was decided that they should go together the next day. Levin told his\nwife that he believed she wanted to go simply in order to be of use,\nagreed that Marya Nikolaevna's being with his brother did not make her\ngoing improper, but he set off at the bottom of his heart dissatisfied\nboth with her and with himself. He was dissatisfied with her for being\nunable to make up her mind to let him go when it was necessary (and how\nstrange it was for him to think that he, so lately hardly daring to\nbelieve in such happiness as that she could love him--now was unhappy\nbecause she loved him too much!), and he was dissatisfied with himself\nfor not showing more strength of will. Even greater was the feeling of\ndisagreement at the bottom of his heart as to her not needing to\nconsider the woman who was with his brother, and he thought with horror\nof all the contingencies they might meet with. The mere idea of his\nwife, his Kitty, being in the same room with a common wench, set him\nshuddering with horror and loathing.\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\n\nThe hotel of the provincial town where Nikolay Levin was lying ill was\none of those provincial hotels which are constructed on the newest model\nof modern improvements, with the best intentions of cleanliness,\ncomfort, and even elegance, but owing to the public that patronizes\nthem, are with astounding rapidity transformed into filthy taverns with\na pretension of modern improvement that only makes them worse than the\nold-fashioned, honestly filthy hotels. This hotel had already reached\nthat stage, and the soldier in a filthy uniform smoking in the entry,\nsupposed to stand for a hall-porter, and the cast-iron, slippery, dark,\nand disagreeable staircase, and the free and easy waiter in a filthy\nfrock coat, and the common dining room with a dusty bouquet of wax\nflowers adorning the table, and filth, dust, and disorder everywhere,\nand at the same time the sort of modern up-to-date self-complacent\nrailway uneasiness of this hotel, aroused a most painful feeling in\nLevin after their fresh young life, especially because the impression of\nfalsity made by the hotel was so out of keeping with what awaited them.\n\nAs is invariably the case, after they had been asked at what price they\nwanted rooms, it appeared that there was not one decent room for them;\none decent room had been taken by the inspector of railroads, another by\na lawyer from Moscow, a third by Princess Astafieva from the country.\nThere remained only one filthy room, next to which they promised that\nanother should be empty by the evening. Feeling angry with his wife\nbecause what he had expected had come to pass, which was that at the\nmoment of arrival, when his heart throbbed with emotion and anxiety to\nknow how his brother was getting on, he should have to be seeing after\nher, instead of rushing straight to his brother, Levin conducted her to\nthe room assigned them.\n\n\"Go, do go!\" she said, looking at him with timid and guilty eyes.\n\nHe went out of the door without a word, and at once stumbled over Marya\nNikolaevna, who had heard of his arrival and had not dared to go in to\nsee him. She was just the same as when he saw her in Moscow; the same\nwoolen gown, and bare arms and neck, and the same good-naturedly stupid,\npockmarked face, only a little plumper.\n\n\"Well, how is he? how is he?\"\n\n\"Very bad. He can't get up. He has kept expecting you. He.... Are you\n... with your wife?\"\n\nLevin did not for the first moment understand what it was confused her,\nbut she immediately enlightened him.\n\n\"I'll go away. I'll go down to the kitchen,\" she brought out. \"Nikolay\nDmitrievitch will be delighted. He heard about it, and knows your lady,\nand remembers her abroad.\"\n\nLevin realized that she meant his wife, and did not know what answer to\nmake.\n\n\"Come along, come along to him!\" he said.\n\nBut as soon as he moved, the door of his room opened and Kitty peeped\nout. Levin crimsoned both from shame and anger with his wife, who had\nput herself and him in such a difficult position; but Marya Nikolaevna\ncrimsoned still more. She positively shrank together and flushed to the\npoint of tears, and clutching the ends of her apron in both hands,\ntwisted them in her red fingers without knowing what to say and what to\ndo.\n\nFor the first instant Levin saw an expression of eager curiosity in the\neyes with which Kitty looked at this awful woman, so incomprehensible to\nher; but it lasted only a single instant.\n\n\"Well! how is he?\" she turned to her husband and then to her.\n\n\"But one can't go on talking in the passage like this!\" Levin said,\nlooking angrily at a gentleman who walked jauntily at that instant\nacross the corridor, as though about his affairs.\n\n\"Well then, come in,\" said Kitty, turning to Marya Nikolaevna, who had\nrecovered herself, but noticing her husband's face of dismay, \"or go on;\ngo, and then come for me,\" she said, and went back into the room.\n\nLevin went to his brother's room. He had not in the least expected what\nhe saw and felt in his brother's room. He had expected to find him in\nthe same state of self-deception which he had heard was so frequent with\nthe consumptive, and which had struck him so much during his brother's\nvisit in the autumn. He had expected to find the physical signs of the\napproach of death more marked--greater weakness, greater emaciation, but\nstill almost the same condition of things. He had expected himself to\nfeel the same distress at the loss of the brother he loved and the same\nhorror in face of death as he had felt then, only in a greater degree.\nAnd he had prepared himself for this; but he found something utterly\ndifferent.\n\nIn a little dirty room with the painted panels of its walls filthy with\nspittle, and conversation audible through the thin partition from the\nnext room, in a stifling atmosphere saturated with impurities, on a\nbedstead moved away from the wall, there lay covered with a quilt, a\nbody. One arm of this body was above the quilt, and the wrist, huge as a\nrake-handle, was attached, inconceivably it seemed, to the thin, long\nbone of the arm smooth from the beginning to the middle. The head lay\nsideways on the pillow. Levin could see the scanty locks wet with sweat\non the temples and tense, transparent-looking forehead.\n\n\"It cannot be that that fearful body was my brother Nikolay?\" thought\nLevin. But he went closer, saw the face, and doubt became impossible. In\nspite of the terrible change in the face, Levin had only to glance at\nthose eager eyes raised at his approach, only to catch the faint\nmovement of the mouth under the sticky mustache, to realize the terrible\ntruth that this death-like body was his living brother.\n\nThe glittering eyes looked sternly and reproachfully at his brother as\nhe drew near. And immediately this glance established a living\nrelationship between living men. Levin immediately felt the reproach in\nthe eyes fixed on him, and felt remorse at his own happiness.\n\nWhen Konstantin took him by the hand, Nikolay smiled. The smile was\nfaint, scarcely perceptible, and in spite of the smile the stern\nexpression of the eyes was unchanged.\n\n\"You did not expect to find me like this,\" he articulated with effort.\n\n\"Yes ... no,\" said Levin, hesitating over his words. \"How was it you\ndidn't let me know before, that is, at the time of my wedding? I made\ninquiries in all directions.\"\n\nHe had to talk so as not to be silent, and he did not know what to say,\nespecially as his brother made no reply, and simply stared without\ndropping his eyes, and evidently penetrated to the inner meaning of each\nword. Levin told his brother that his wife had come with him. Nikolay\nexpressed pleasure, but said he was afraid of frightening her by his\ncondition. A silence followed. Suddenly Nikolay stirred, and began to\nsay something. Levin expected something of peculiar gravity and\nimportance from the expression of his face, but Nikolay began speaking\nof his health. He found fault with the doctor, regretting he had not a\ncelebrated Moscow doctor. Levin saw that he still hoped.\n\nSeizing the first moment of silence, Levin got up, anxious to escape, if\nonly for an instant, from his agonizing emotion, and said that he would\ngo and fetch his wife.\n\n\"Very well, and I'll tell her to tidy up here. It's dirty and stinking\nhere, I expect. Marya! clear up the room,\" the sick man said with\neffort. \"Oh, and when you've cleared up, go away yourself,\" he added,\nlooking inquiringly at his brother.\n\nLevin made no answer. Going out into the corridor, he stopped short. He\nhad said he would fetch his wife, but now, taking stock of the emotion\nhe was feeling, he decided that he would try on the contrary to persuade\nher not to go in to the sick man. \"Why should she suffer as I am\nsuffering?\" he thought.\n\n\"Well, how is he?\" Kitty asked with a frightened face.\n\n\"Oh, it's awful, it's awful! What did you come for?\" said Levin.\n\nKitty was silent for a few seconds, looking timidly and ruefully at her\nhusband; then she went up and took him by the elbow with both hands.\n\n\"Kostya! take me to him; it will be easier for us to bear it together.\nYou only take me, take me to him, please, and go away,\" she said. \"You\nmust understand that for me to see you, and not to see him, is far more\npainful. There I might be a help to you and to him. Please, let me!\" she\nbesought her husband, as though the happiness of her life depended on\nit.\n\nLevin was obliged to agree, and regaining his composure, and completely\nforgetting about Marya Nikolaevna by now, he went again in to his\nbrother with Kitty.\n\nStepping lightly, and continually glancing at her husband, showing him a\nvalorous and sympathetic face, Kitty went into the sick-room, and,\nturning without haste, noiselessly closed the door. With inaudible steps\nshe went quickly to the sick man's bedside, and going up so that he had\nnot to turn his head, she immediately clasped in her fresh young hand\nthe skeleton of his huge hand, pressed it, and began speaking with that\nsoft eagerness, sympathetic and not jarring, which is peculiar to women.\n\n\"We have met, though we were not acquainted, at Soden,\" she said. \"You\nnever thought I was to be your sister?\"\n\n\"You would not have recognized me?\" he said, with a radiant smile at her\nentrance.\n\n\"Yes, I should. What a good thing you let us know! Not a day has passed\nthat Kostya has not mentioned you, and been anxious.\"\n\nBut the sick man's interest did not last long.\n\nBefore she had finished speaking, there had come back into his face the\nstern, reproachful expression of the dying man's envy of the living.\n\n\"I am afraid you are not quite comfortable here,\" she said, turning away\nfrom his fixed stare, and looking about the room. \"We must ask about\nanother room,\" she said to her husband, \"so that we might be nearer.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\n\nLevin could not look calmly at his brother; he could not himself be\nnatural and calm in his presence. When he went in to the sick man, his\neyes and his attention were unconsciously dimmed, and he did not see and\ndid not distinguish the details of his brother's position. He smelt the\nawful odor, saw the dirt, disorder, and miserable condition, and heard\nthe groans, and felt that nothing could be done to help. It never\nentered his head to analyze the details of the sick man's situation, to\nconsider how that body was lying under the quilt, how those emaciated\nlegs and thighs and spine were lying huddled up, and whether they could\nnot be made more comfortable, whether anything could not be done to make\nthings, if not better, at least less bad. It made his blood run cold\nwhen he began to think of all these details. He was absolutely convinced\nthat nothing could be done to prolong his brother's life or to relieve\nhis suffering. But a sense of his regarding all aid as out of the\nquestion was felt by the sick man, and exasperated him. And this made it\nstill more painful for Levin. To be in the sick-room was agony to him,\nnot to be there still worse. And he was continually, on various\npretexts, going out of the room, and coming in again, because he was\nunable to remain alone.\n\nBut Kitty thought, and felt, and acted quite differently. On seeing the\nsick man, she pitied him. And pity in her womanly heart did not arouse\nat all that feeling of horror and loathing that it aroused in her\nhusband, but a desire to act, to find out all the details of his state,\nand to remedy them. And since she had not the slightest doubt that it\nwas her duty to help him, she had no doubt either that it was possible,\nand immediately set to work. The very details, the mere thought of which\nreduced her husband to terror, immediately engaged her attention. She\nsent for the doctor, sent to the chemist's, set the maid who had come\nwith her and Marya Nikolaevna to sweep and dust and scrub; she herself\nwashed up something, washed out something else, laid something under the\nquilt. Something was by her directions brought into the sick-room,\nsomething else was carried out. She herself went several times to her\nroom, regardless of the men she met in the corridor, got out and brought\nin sheets, pillow cases, towels, and shirts.\n\nThe waiter, who was busy with a party of engineers dining in the dining\nhall, came several times with an irate countenance in answer to her\nsummons, and could not avoid carrying out her orders, as she gave them\nwith such gracious insistence that there was no evading her. Levin did\nnot approve of all this; he did not believe it would be of any good to\nthe patient. Above all, he feared the patient would be angry at it. But\nthe sick man, though he seemed and was indifferent about it, was not\nangry, but only abashed, and on the whole as it were interested in what\nshe was doing with him. Coming back from the doctor to whom Kitty had\nsent him, Levin, on opening the door, came upon the sick man at the\ninstant when, by Kitty's directions, they were changing his linen. The\nlong white ridge of his spine, with the huge, prominent shoulder blades\nand jutting ribs and vertebrae, was bare, and Marya Nikolaevna and the\nwaiter were struggling with the sleeve of the night shirt, and could not\nget the long, limp arm into it. Kitty, hurriedly closing the door after\nLevin, was not looking that way; but the sick man groaned, and she moved\nrapidly towards him.\n\n\"Make haste,\" she said.\n\n\"Oh, don't you come,\" said the sick man angrily. \"I'll do it my\nmyself....\"\n\n\"What say?\" queried Marya Nikolaevna. But Kitty heard and saw he was\nashamed and uncomfortable at being naked before her.\n\n\"I'm not looking, I'm not looking!\" she said, putting the arm in. \"Marya\nNikolaevna, you come this side, you do it,\" she added.\n\n\"Please go for me, there's a little bottle in my small bag,\" she said,\nturning to her husband, \"you know, in the side pocket; bring it, please,\nand meanwhile they'll finish clearing up here.\"\n\nReturning with the bottle, Levin found the sick man settled comfortably\nand everything about him completely changed. The heavy smell was\nreplaced by the smell of aromatic vinegar, which Kitty with pouting lips\nand puffed-out, rosy cheeks was squirting through a little pipe. There\nwas no dust visible anywhere, a rug was laid by the bedside. On the\ntable stood medicine bottles and decanters tidily arranged, and the\nlinen needed was folded up there, and Kitty's _broderie anglaise_. On\nthe other table by the patient's bed there were candles and drink and\npowders. The sick man himself, washed and combed, lay in clean sheets on\nhigh raised pillows, in a clean night-shirt with a white collar about\nhis astoundingly thin neck, and with a new expression of hope looked\nfixedly at Kitty.\n\nThe doctor brought by Levin, and found by him at the club, was not the\none who had been attending Nikolay Levin, as the patient was\ndissatisfied with him. The new doctor took up a stethoscope and sounded\nthe patient, shook his head, prescribed medicine, and with extreme\nminuteness explained first how to take the medicine and then what diet\nwas to be kept to. He advised eggs, raw or hardly cooked, and seltzer\nwater, with warm milk at a certain temperature. When the doctor had gone\naway the sick man said something to his brother, of which Levin could\ndistinguish only the last words: \"Your Katya.\" By the expression with\nwhich he gazed at her, Levin saw that he was praising her. He called\nindeed to Katya, as he called her.\n\n\"I'm much better already,\" he said. \"Why, with you I should have got\nwell long ago. How nice it is!\" he took her hand and drew it towards his\nlips, but as though afraid she would dislike it he changed his mind, let\nit go, and only stroked it. Kitty took his hand in both hers and pressed\nit.\n\n\"Now turn me over on the left side and go to bed,\" he said.\n\nNo one could make out what he said but Kitty; she alone understood. She\nunderstood because she was all the while mentally keeping watch on what\nhe needed.\n\n\"On the other side,\" she said to her husband, \"he always sleeps on that\nside. Turn him over, it's so disagreeable calling the servants. I'm not\nstrong enough. Can you?\" she said to Marya Nikolaevna.\n\n\"I'm afraid not,\" answered Marya Nikolaevna.\n\nTerrible as it was to Levin to put his arms round that terrible body, to\ntake hold of that under the quilt, of which he preferred to know\nnothing, under his wife's influence he made his resolute face that she\nknew so well, and putting his arms into the bed took hold of the body,\nbut in spite of his own strength he was struck by the strange heaviness\nof those powerless limbs. While he was turning him over, conscious of\nthe huge emaciated arm about his neck, Kitty swiftly and noiselessly\nturned the pillow, beat it up and settled in it the sick man's head,\nsmoothing back his hair, which was sticking again to his moist brow.\n\nThe sick man kept his brother's hand in his own. Levin felt that he\nmeant to do something with his hand and was pulling it somewhere. Levin\nyielded with a sinking heart: yes, he drew it to his mouth and kissed\nit. Levin, shaking with sobs and unable to articulate a word, went out\nof the room.\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\n\n\"Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed\nthem unto babes.\" So Levin thought about his wife as he talked to her\nthat evening.\n\nLevin thought of the text, not because he considered himself \"wise and\nprudent.\" He did not so consider himself, but he could not help knowing\nthat he had more intellect than his wife and Agafea Mihalovna, and he\ncould not help knowing that when he thought of death, he thought with\nall the force of his intellect. He knew too that the brains of many\ngreat men, whose thoughts he had read, had brooded over death and yet\nknew not a hundredth part of what his wife and Agafea Mihalovna knew\nabout it. Different as those two women were, Agafea Mihalovna and Katya,\nas his brother Nikolay had called her, and as Levin particularly liked\nto call her now, they were quite alike in this. Both knew, without a\nshade of doubt, what sort of thing life was and what was death, and\nthough neither of them could have answered, and would even not have\nunderstood the questions that presented themselves to Levin, both had no\ndoubt of the significance of this event, and were precisely alike in\ntheir way of looking at it, which they shared with millions of people.\nThe proof that they knew for a certainty the nature of death lay in the\nfact that they knew without a second of hesitation how to deal with the\ndying, and were not frightened of them. Levin and other men like him,\nthough they could have said a great deal about death, obviously did not\nknow this since they were afraid of death, and were absolutely at a loss\nwhat to do when people were dying. If Levin had been alone now with his\nbrother Nikolay, he would have looked at him with terror, and with still\ngreater terror waited, and would not have known what else to do.\n\nMore than that, he did not know what to say, how to look, how to move.\nTo talk of outside things seemed to him shocking, impossible, to talk of\ndeath and depressing subjects--also impossible. To be silent, also\nimpossible. \"If I look at him he will think I am studying him, I am\nafraid; if I don't look at him, he'll think I'm thinking of other\nthings. If I walk on tiptoe, he will be vexed; to tread firmly, I'm\nashamed.\" Kitty evidently did not think of herself, and had no time to\nthink about herself: she was thinking about him because she knew\nsomething, and all went well. She told him about herself even and about\nher wedding, and smiled and sympathized with him and petted him, and\ntalked of cases of recovery and all went well; so then she must know.\nThe proof that her behavior and Agafea Mihalovna's was not instinctive,\nanimal, irrational, was that apart from the physical treatment, the\nrelief of suffering, both Agafea Mihalovna and Kitty required for the\ndying man something else more important than the physical treatment, and\nsomething which had nothing in common with physical conditions. Agafea\nMihalovna, speaking of the man just dead, had said: \"Well, thank God, he\ntook the sacrament and received absolution; God grant each one of us\nsuch a death.\" Katya in just the same way, besides all her care about\nlinen, bedsores, drink, found time the very first day to persuade the\nsick man of the necessity of taking the sacrament and receiving\nabsolution.\n\nOn getting back from the sick-room to their own two rooms for the night,\nLevin sat with hanging head not knowing what to do. Not to speak of\nsupper, of preparing for bed, of considering what they were going to do,\nhe could not even talk to his wife; he was ashamed to. Kitty, on the\ncontrary, was more active than usual. She was even livelier than usual.\nShe ordered supper to be brought, herself unpacked their things, and\nherself helped to make the beds, and did not even forget to sprinkle\nthem with Persian powder. She showed that alertness, that swiftness of\nreflection comes out in men before a battle, in conflict, in the\ndangerous and decisive moments of life--those moments when a man shows\nonce and for all his value, and that all his past has not been wasted\nbut has been a preparation for these moments.\n\nEverything went rapidly in her hands, and before it was twelve o'clock\nall their things were arranged cleanly and tidily in her rooms, in such\na way that the hotel rooms seemed like home: the beds were made,\nbrushes, combs, looking-glasses were put out, table napkins were spread.\n\nLevin felt that it was unpardonable to eat, to sleep, to talk even now,\nand it seemed to him that every movement he made was unseemly. She\narranged the brushes, but she did it all so that there was nothing\nshocking in it.\n\nThey could neither of them eat, however, and for a long while they could\nnot sleep, and did not even go to bed.\n\n\"I am very glad I persuaded him to receive extreme unction tomorrow,\"\nshe said, sitting in her dressing jacket before her folding looking\nglass, combing her soft, fragrant hair with a fine comb. \"I have never\nseen it, but I know, mamma has told me, there are prayers said for\nrecovery.\"\n\n\"Do you suppose he can possibly recover?\" said Levin, watching a slender\ntress at the back of her round little head that was continually hidden\nwhen she passed the comb through the front.\n\n\"I asked the doctor; he said he couldn't live more than three days. But\ncan they be sure? I'm very glad, anyway, that I persuaded him,\" she\nsaid, looking askance at her husband through her hair. \"Anything is\npossible,\" she added with that peculiar, rather sly expression that was\nalways in her face when she spoke of religion.\n\nSince their conversation about religion when they were engaged neither\nof them had ever started a discussion of the subject, but she performed\nall the ceremonies of going to church, saying her prayers, and so on,\nalways with the unvarying conviction that this ought to be so. In spite\nof his assertion to the contrary, she was firmly persuaded that he was\nas much a Christian as she, and indeed a far better one; and all that he\nsaid about it was simply one of his absurd masculine freaks, just as he\nwould say about her _broderie anglaise_ that good people patch holes,\nbut that she cut them on purpose, and so on.\n\n\"Yes, you see this woman, Marya Nikolaevna, did not know how to manage\nall this,\" said Levin. \"And ... I must own I'm very, very glad you came.\nYou are such purity that....\" He took her hand and did not kiss it (to\nkiss her hand in such closeness to death seemed to him improper); he\nmerely squeezed it with a penitent air, looking at her brightening eyes.\n\n\"It would have been miserable for you to be alone,\" she said, and\nlifting her hands which hid her cheeks flushing with pleasure, twisted\nher coil of hair on the nape of her neck and pinned it there. \"No,\" she\nwent on, \"she did not know how.... Luckily, I learned a lot at Soden.\"\n\n\"Surely there are not people there so ill?\"\n\n\"Worse.\"\n\n\"What's so awful to me is that I can't see him as he was when he was\nyoung. You would not believe how charming he was as a youth, but I did\nnot understand him then.\"\n\n\"I can quite, quite believe it. How I feel that we might have been\nfriends!\" she said; and, distressed at what she had said, she looked\nround at her husband, and tears came into her eyes.\n\n\"Yes, _might have been_,\" he said mournfully. \"He's just one of those\npeople of whom they say they're not for this world.\"\n\n\"But we have many days before us; we must go to bed,\" said Kitty,\nglancing at her tiny watch.\n\n\n\nChapter 20\n\n\nThe next day the sick man received the sacrament and extreme unction.\nDuring the ceremony Nikolay Levin prayed fervently. His great eyes,\nfastened on the holy image that was set out on a card table covered with\na colored napkin, expressed such passionate prayer and hope that it was\nawful to Levin to see it. Levin knew that this passionate prayer and\nhope would only make him feel more bitterly parting from the life he so\nloved. Levin knew his brother and the workings of his intellect: he knew\nthat his unbelief came not from life being easier for him without faith,\nbut had grown up because step by step the contemporary scientific\ninterpretation of natural phenomena crushed out the possibility of\nfaith; and so he knew that his present return was not a legitimate one,\nbrought about by way of the same working of his intellect, but simply a\ntemporary, interested return to faith in a desperate hope of recovery.\nLevin knew too that Kitty had strengthened his hope by accounts of the\nmarvelous recoveries she had heard of. Levin knew all this; and it was\nagonizingly painful to him to behold the supplicating, hopeful eyes and\nthe emaciated wrist, lifted with difficulty, making the sign of the\ncross on the tense brow, and the prominent shoulders and hollow, gasping\nchest, which one could not feel consistent with the life the sick man\nwas praying for. During the sacrament Levin did what he, an unbeliever,\nhad done a thousand times. He said, addressing God, \"If Thou dost exist,\nmake this man to recover\" (of course this same thing has been repeated\nmany times), \"and Thou wilt save him and me.\"\n\nAfter extreme unction the sick man became suddenly much better. He did\nnot cough once in the course of an hour, smiled, kissed Kitty's hand,\nthanking her with tears, and said he was comfortable, free from pain,\nand that he felt strong and had an appetite. He even raised himself when\nhis soup was brought, and asked for a cutlet as well. Hopelessly ill as\nhe was, obvious as it was at the first glance that he could not recover,\nLevin and Kitty were for that hour both in the same state of excitement,\nhappy, though fearful of being mistaken.\n\n\"Is he better?\"\n\n\"Yes, much.\"\n\n\"It's wonderful.\"\n\n\"There's nothing wonderful in it.\"\n\n\"Anyway, he's better,\" they said in a whisper, smiling to one another.\n\nThis self-deception was not of long duration. The sick man fell into a\nquiet sleep, but he was waked up half an hour later by his cough. And\nall at once every hope vanished in those about him and in himself. The\nreality of his suffering crushed all hopes in Levin and Kitty and in the\nsick man himself, leaving no doubt, no memory even of past hopes.\n\nWithout referring to what he had believed in half an hour before, as\nthough ashamed even to recall it, he asked for iodine to inhale in a\nbottle covered with perforated paper. Levin gave him the bottle, and the\nsame look of passionate hope with which he had taken the sacrament was\nnow fastened on his brother, demanding from him the confirmation of the\ndoctor's words that inhaling iodine worked wonders.\n\n\"Is Katya not here?\" he gasped, looking round while Levin reluctantly\nassented to the doctor's words. \"No; so I can say it.... It was for her\nsake I went through that farce. She's so sweet; but you and I can't\ndeceive ourselves. This is what I believe in,\" he said, and, squeezing\nthe bottle in his bony hand, he began breathing over it.\n\nAt eight o'clock in the evening Levin and his wife were drinking tea in\ntheir room when Marya Nikolaevna ran in to them breathlessly. She was\npale, and her lips were quivering. \"He is dying!\" she whispered. \"I'm\nafraid will die this minute.\"\n\nBoth of them ran to him. He was sitting raised up with one elbow on the\nbed, his long back bent, and his head hanging low.\n\n\"How do you feel?\" Levin asked in a whisper, after a silence.\n\n\"I feel I'm setting off,\" Nikolay said with difficulty, but with extreme\ndistinctness, screwing the words out of himself. He did not raise his\nhead, but simply turned his eyes upwards, without their reaching his\nbrother's face. \"Katya, go away!\" he added.\n\nLevin jumped up, and with a peremptory whisper made her go out.\n\n\"I'm setting off,\" he said again.\n\n\"Why do you think so?\" said Levin, so as to say something.\n\n\"Because I'm setting off,\" he repeated, as though he had a liking for\nthe phrase. \"It's the end.\"\n\nMarya Nikolaevna went up to him.\n\n\"You had better lie down; you'd be easier,\" she said.\n\n\"I shall lie down soon enough,\" he pronounced slowly, \"when I'm dead,\"\nhe said sarcastically, wrathfully. \"Well, you can lay me down if you\nlike.\"\n\nLevin laid his brother on his back, sat down beside him, and gazed at\nhis face, holding his breath. The dying man lay with closed eyes, but\nthe muscles twitched from time to time on his forehead, as with one\nthinking deeply and intensely. Levin involuntarily thought with him of\nwhat it was that was happening to him now, but in spite of all his\nmental efforts to go along with him he saw by the expression of that\ncalm, stern face that for the dying man all was growing clearer and\nclearer that was still as dark as ever for Levin.\n\n\"Yes, yes, so,\" the dying man articulated slowly at intervals. \"Wait a\nlittle.\" He was silent. \"Right!\" he pronounced all at once reassuringly,\nas though all were solved for him. \"O Lord!\" he murmured, and sighed\ndeeply.\n\nMarya Nikolaevna felt his feet. \"They're getting cold,\" she whispered.\n\nFor a long while, a very long while it seemed to Levin, the sick man lay\nmotionless. But he was still alive, and from time to time he sighed.\nLevin by now was exhausted from mental strain. He felt that, with no\nmental effort, could he understand what it was that was _right_. He\ncould not even think of the problem of death itself, but with no will of\nhis own thoughts kept coming to him of what he had to do next; closing\nthe dead man's eyes, dressing him, ordering the coffin. And, strange to\nsay, he felt utterly cold, and was not conscious of sorrow nor of loss,\nless still of pity for his brother. If he had any feeling for his\nbrother at that moment, it was envy for the knowledge the dying man had\nnow that he could not have.\n\nA long time more he sat over him so, continually expecting the end. But\nthe end did not come. The door opened and Kitty appeared. Levin got up\nto stop her. But at the moment he was getting up, he caught the sound of\nthe dying man stirring.\n\n\"Don't go away,\" said Nikolay and held out his hand. Levin gave him his,\nand angrily waved to his wife to go away.\n\nWith the dying man's hand in his hand, he sat for half an hour, an hour,\nanother hour. He did not think of death at all now. He wondered what\nKitty was doing; who lived in the next room; whether the doctor lived in\na house of his own. He longed for food and for sleep. He cautiously drew\naway his hand and felt the feet. The feet were cold, but the sick man\nwas still breathing. Levin tried again to move away on tiptoe, but the\nsick man stirred again and said: \"Don't go.\"\n\n ----\n\nThe dawn came; the sick man's condition was unchanged. Levin stealthily\nwithdrew his hand, and without looking at the dying man, went off to his\nown room and went to sleep. When he woke up, instead of news of his\nbrother's death which he expected, he learned that the sick man had\nreturned to his earlier condition. He had begun sitting up again,\ncoughing, had begun eating again, talking again, and again had ceased to\ntalk of death, again had begun to express hope of his recovery, and had\nbecome more irritable and more gloomy than ever. No one, neither his\nbrother nor Kitty, could soothe him. He was angry with everyone, and\nsaid nasty things to everyone, reproached everyone for his sufferings,\nand insisted that they should get him a celebrated doctor from Moscow.\nTo all inquiries made him as to how he felt, he made the same answer\nwith an expression of vindictive reproachfulness, \"I'm suffering\nhorribly, intolerably!\"\n\nThe sick man was suffering more and more, especially from bedsores,\nwhich it was impossible now to remedy, and grew more and more angry with\neveryone about him, blaming them for everything, and especially for not\nhaving brought him a doctor from Moscow. Kitty tried in every possible\nway to relieve him, to soothe him; but it was all in vain, and Levin saw\nthat she herself was exhausted both physically and morally, though she\nwould not admit it. The sense of death, which had been evoked in all by\nhis taking leave of life on the night when he had sent for his brother,\nwas broken up. Everyone knew that he must inevitably die soon, that he\nwas half dead already. Everyone wished for nothing but that he should\ndie as soon as possible, and everyone, concealing this, gave him\nmedicines, tried to find remedies and doctors, and deceived him and\nthemselves and each other. All this was falsehood, disgusting,\nirreverent deceit. And owing to the bent of his character, and because\nhe loved the dying man more than anyone else did, Levin was most\npainfully conscious of this deceit.\n\nLevin, who had long been possessed by the idea of reconciling his\nbrothers, at least in face of death, had written to his brother, Sergey\nIvanovitch, and having received an answer from him, he read this letter\nto the sick man. Sergey Ivanovitch wrote that he could not come himself,\nand in touching terms he begged his brother's forgiveness.\n\nThe sick man said nothing.\n\n\"What am I to write to him?\" said Levin. \"I hope you are not angry with\nhim?\"\n\n\"No, not the least!\" Nikolay answered, vexed at the question. \"Tell him\nto send me a doctor.\"\n\nThree more days of agony followed; the sick man was still in the same\ncondition. The sense of longing for his death was felt by everyone now\nat the mere sight of him, by the waiters and the hotel-keeper and all\nthe people staying in the hotel, and the doctor and Marya Nikolaevna and\nLevin and Kitty. The sick man alone did not express this feeling, but on\nthe contrary was furious at their not getting him doctors, and went on\ntaking medicine and talking of life. Only at rare moments, when the\nopium gave him an instant's relief from the never-ceasing pain, he would\nsometimes, half asleep, utter what was ever more intense in his heart\nthan in all the others: \"Oh, if it were only the end!\" or: \"When will it\nbe over?\"\n\nHis sufferings, steadily growing more intense, did their work and\nprepared him for death. There was no position in which he was not in\npain, there was not a minute in which he was unconscious of it, not a\nlimb, not a part of his body that did not ache and cause him agony. Even\nthe memories, the impressions, the thoughts of this body awakened in him\nnow the same aversion as the body itself. The sight of other people,\ntheir remarks, his own reminiscences, everything was for him a source of\nagony. Those about him felt this, and instinctively did not allow\nthemselves to move freely, to talk, to express their wishes before him.\nAll his life was merged in the one feeling of suffering and desire to be\nrid of it.\n\nThere was evidently coming over him that revulsion that would make him\nlook upon death as the goal of his desires, as happiness. Hitherto each\nindividual desire, aroused by suffering or privation, such as hunger,\nfatigue, thirst, had been satisfied by some bodily function giving\npleasure. But now no physical craving or suffering received relief, and\nthe effort to relieve them only caused fresh suffering. And so all\ndesires were merged in one--the desire to be rid of all his sufferings\nand their source, the body. But he had no words to express this desire\nof deliverance, and so he did not speak of it, and from habit asked for\nthe satisfaction of desires which could not now be satisfied. \"Turn me\nover on the other side,\" he would say, and immediately after he would\nask to be turned back again as before. \"Give me some broth. Take away\nthe broth. Talk of something: why are you silent?\" And directly they\nbegan to talk he would close his eyes, and would show weariness,\nindifference, and loathing.\n\nOn the tenth day from their arrival at the town, Kitty was unwell. She\nsuffered from headache and sickness, and she could not get up all the\nmorning.\n\nThe doctor opined that the indisposition arose from fatigue and\nexcitement, and prescribed rest.\n\nAfter dinner, however, Kitty got up and went as usual with her work to\nthe sick man. He looked at her sternly when she came in, and smiled\ncontemptuously when she said she had been unwell. That day he was\ncontinually blowing his nose, and groaning piteously.\n\n\"How do you feel?\" she asked him.\n\n\"Worse,\" he articulated with difficulty. \"In pain!\"\n\n\"In pain, where?\"\n\n\"Everywhere.\"\n\n\"It will be over today, you will see,\" said Marya Nikolaevna. Though it\nwas said in a whisper, the sick man, whose hearing Levin had noticed was\nvery keen, must have heard. Levin said hush to her, and looked round at\nthe sick man. Nikolay had heard; but these words produced no effect on\nhim. His eyes had still the same intense, reproachful look.\n\n\"Why do you think so?\" Levin asked her, when she had followed him into\nthe corridor.\n\n\"He has begun picking at himself,\" said Marya Nikolaevna.\n\n\"How do you mean?\"\n\n\"Like this,\" she said, tugging at the folds of her woolen skirt. Levin\nnoticed, indeed, that all that day the patient pulled at himself, as it\nwere, trying to snatch something away.\n\nMarya Nikolaevna's prediction came true. Towards night the sick man was\nnot able to lift his hands, and could only gaze before him with the same\nintensely concentrated expression in his eyes. Even when his brother or\nKitty bent over him, so that he could see them, he looked just the same.\nKitty sent for the priest to read the prayer for the dying.\n\nWhile the priest was reading it, the dying man did not show any sign of\nlife; his eyes were closed. Levin, Kitty, and Marya Nikolaevna stood at\nthe bedside. The priest had not quite finished reading the prayer when\nthe dying man stretched, sighed, and opened his eyes. The priest, on\nfinishing the prayer, put the cross to the cold forehead, then slowly\nreturned it to the stand, and after standing for two minutes more in\nsilence, he touched the huge, bloodless hand that was turning cold.\n\n\"He is gone,\" said the priest, and would have moved away; but suddenly\nthere was a faint stir in the mustaches of the dead man that seemed\nglued together, and quite distinctly in the hush they heard from the\nbottom of the chest the sharply defined sounds:\n\n\"Not quite ... soon.\"\n\nAnd a minute later the face brightened, a smile came out under the\nmustaches, and the women who had gathered round began carefully laying\nout the corpse.\n\nThe sight of his brother, and the nearness of death, revived in Levin\nthat sense of horror in face of the insoluble enigma, together with the\nnearness and inevitability of death, that had come upon him that autumn\nevening when his brother had come to him. This feeling was now even\nstronger than before; even less than before did he feel capable of\napprehending the meaning of death, and its inevitability rose up before\nhim more terrible than ever. But now, thanks to his wife's presence,\nthat feeling did not reduce him to despair. In spite of death, he felt\nthe need of life and love. He felt that love saved him from despair, and\nthat this love, under the menace of despair, had become still stronger\nand purer. The one mystery of death, still unsolved, had scarcely passed\nbefore his eyes, when another mystery had arisen, as insoluble, urging\nhim to love and to life.\n\nThe doctor confirmed his suppositions in regard to Kitty. Her\nindisposition was a symptom that she was with child.\n\n\n\nChapter 21\n\n\nFrom the moment when Alexey Alexandrovitch understood from his\ninterviews with Betsy and with Stepan Arkadyevitch that all that was\nexpected of him was to leave his wife in peace, without burdening her\nwith his presence, and that his wife herself desired this, he felt so\ndistraught that he could come to no decision of himself; he did not know\nhimself what he wanted now, and putting himself in the hands of those\nwho were so pleased to interest themselves in his affairs, he met\neverything with unqualified assent. It was only when Anna had left his\nhouse, and the English governess sent to ask him whether she should dine\nwith him or separately, that for the first time he clearly comprehended\nhis position, and was appalled by it. Most difficult of all in this\nposition was the fact that he could not in any way connect and reconcile\nhis past with what was now. It was not the past when he had lived\nhappily with his wife that troubled him. The transition from that past\nto a knowledge of his wife's unfaithfulness he had lived through\nmiserably already; that state was painful, but he could understand it.\nIf his wife had then, on declaring to him her unfaithfulness, left him,\nhe would have been wounded, unhappy, but he would not have been in the\nhopeless position--incomprehensible to himself--in which he felt himself\nnow. He could not now reconcile his immediate past, his tenderness, his\nlove for his sick wife, and for the other man's child with what was now\nthe case, that is with the fact that, as it were, in return for all this\nhe now found himself alone, put to shame, a laughing-stock, needed by no\none, and despised by everyone.\n\nFor the first two days after his wife's departure Alexey Alexandrovitch\nreceived applicants for assistance and his chief secretary, drove to the\ncommittee, and went down to dinner in the dining room as usual. Without\ngiving himself a reason for what he was doing, he strained every nerve\nof his being for those two days, simply to preserve an appearance of\ncomposure, and even of indifference. Answering inquiries about the\ndisposition of Anna Arkadyevna's rooms and belongings, he had exercised\nimmense self-control to appear like a man in whose eyes what had\noccurred was not unforeseen nor out of the ordinary course of events,\nand he attained his aim: no one could have detected in him signs of\ndespair. But on the second day after her departure, when Korney gave him\na bill from a fashionable draper's shop, which Anna had forgotten to\npay, and announced that the clerk from the shop was waiting, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch told him to show the clerk up.\n\n\"Excuse me, your excellency, for venturing to trouble you. But if you\ndirect us to apply to her excellency, would you graciously oblige us\nwith her address?\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch pondered, as it seemed to the clerk, and all at\nonce, turning round, he sat down at the table. Letting his head sink\ninto his hands, he sat for a long while in that position, several times\nattempted to speak and stopped short. Korney, perceiving his master's\nemotion, asked the clerk to call another time. Left alone, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch recognized that he had not the strength to keep up the\nline of firmness and composure any longer. He gave orders for the\ncarriage that was awaiting him to be taken back, and for no one to be\nadmitted, and he did not go down to dinner.\n\nHe felt that he could not endure the weight of universal contempt and\nexasperation, which he had distinctly seen in the face of the clerk and\nof Korney, and of everyone, without exception, whom he had met during\nthose two days. He felt that he could not turn aside from himself the\nhatred of men, because that hatred did not come from his being bad (in\nthat case he could have tried to be better), but from his being\nshamefully and repulsively unhappy. He knew that for this, for the very\nfact that his heart was torn with grief, they would be merciless to him.\nHe felt that men would crush him as dogs strangle a torn dog yelping\nwith pain. He knew that his sole means of security against people was to\nhide his wounds from them, and instinctively he tried to do this for two\ndays, but now he felt incapable of keeping up the unequal struggle.\n\nHis despair was even intensified by the consciousness that he was\nutterly alone in his sorrow. In all Petersburg there was not a human\nbeing to whom he could express what he was feeling, who would feel for\nhim, not as a high official, not as a member of society, but simply as a\nsuffering man; indeed he had not such a one in the whole world.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch grew up an orphan. There were two brothers. They\ndid not remember their father, and their mother died when Alexey\nAlexandrovitch was ten years old. The property was a small one. Their\nuncle, Karenin, a government official of high standing, at one time a\nfavorite of the late Tsar, had brought them up.\n\nOn completing his high school and university courses with medals, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch had, with his uncle's aid, immediately started in a\nprominent position in the service, and from that time forward he had\ndevoted himself exclusively to political ambition. In the high school\nand the university, and afterwards in the service, Alexey Alexandrovitch\nhad never formed a close friendship with anyone. His brother had been\nthe person nearest to his heart, but he had a post in the Ministry of\nForeign Affairs, and was always abroad, where he had died shortly after\nAlexey Alexandrovitch's marriage.\n\nWhile he was governor of a province, Anna's aunt, a wealthy provincial\nlady, had thrown him--middle-aged as he was, though young for a\ngovernor--with her niece, and had succeeded in putting him in such a\nposition that he had either to declare himself or to leave the town.\nAlexey Alexandrovitch was not long in hesitation. There were at the time\nas many reasons for the step as against it, and there was no\noverbalancing consideration to outweigh his invariable rule of\nabstaining when in doubt. But Anna's aunt had through a common\nacquaintance insinuated that he had already compromised the girl, and\nthat he was in honor bound to make her an offer. He made the offer, and\nconcentrated on his betrothed and his wife all the feeling of which he\nwas capable.\n\nThe attachment he felt to Anna precluded in his heart every need of\nintimate relations with others. And now among all his acquaintances he\nhad not one friend. He had plenty of so-called connections, but no\nfriendships. Alexey Alexandrovitch had plenty of people whom he could\ninvite to dinner, to whose sympathy he could appeal in any public affair\nhe was concerned about, whose interest he could reckon upon for anyone\nhe wished to help, with whom he could candidly discuss other people's\nbusiness and affairs of state. But his relations with these people were\nconfined to one clearly defined channel, and had a certain routine from\nwhich it was impossible to depart. There was one man, a comrade of his\nat the university, with whom he had made friends later, and with whom he\ncould have spoken of a personal sorrow; but this friend had a post in\nthe Department of Education in a remote part of Russia. Of the people in\nPetersburg the most intimate and most possible were his chief secretary\nand his doctor.\n\nMihail Vassilievitch Sludin, the chief secretary, was a straightforward,\nintelligent, good-hearted, and conscientious man, and Alexey\nAlexandrovitch was aware of his personal goodwill. But their five years\nof official work together seemed to have put a barrier between them that\ncut off warmer relations.\n\nAfter signing the papers brought him, Alexey Alexandrovitch had sat for\na long while in silence, glancing at Mihail Vassilievitch, and several\ntimes he attempted to speak, but could not. He had already prepared the\nphrase: \"You have heard of my trouble?\" But he ended by saying, as\nusual: \"So you'll get this ready for me?\" and with that dismissed him.\n\nThe other person was the doctor, who had also a kindly feeling for him;\nbut there had long existed a taciturn understanding between them that\nboth were weighed down by work, and always in a hurry.\n\nOf his women friends, foremost amongst them Countess Lidia Ivanovna,\nAlexey Alexandrovitch never thought. All women, simply as women, were\nterrible and distasteful to him.\n\n\n\nChapter 22\n\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch had forgotten the Countess Lidia Ivanovna, but she\nhad not forgotten him. At the bitterest moment of his lonely despair she\ncame to him, and without waiting to be announced, walked straight into\nhis study. She found him as he was sitting with his head in both hands.\n\n\"_J'ai force la consigne_,\" she said, walking in with rapid steps and\nbreathing hard with excitement and rapid exercise. \"I have heard all!\nAlexey Alexandrovitch! Dear friend!\" she went on, warmly squeezing his\nhand in both of hers and gazing with her fine pensive eyes into his.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, frowning, got up, and disengaging his hand, moved\nher a chair.\n\n\"Won't you sit down, countess? I'm seeing no one because I'm unwell,\ncountess,\" he said, and his lips twitched.\n\n\"Dear friend!\" repeated Countess Lidia Ivanovna, never taking her eyes\noff his, and suddenly her eyebrows rose at the inner corners, describing\na triangle on her forehead, her ugly yellow face became still uglier,\nbut Alexey Alexandrovitch felt that she was sorry for him and was\npreparing to cry. And he too was softened; he snatched her plump hand\nand proceeded to kiss it.\n\n\"Dear friend!\" she said in a voice breaking with emotion. \"You ought not\nto give way to grief. Your sorrow is a great one, but you ought to find\nconsolation.\"\n\n\"I am crushed, I am annihilated, I am no longer a man!\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, letting go her hand, but still gazing into her brimming\neyes. \"My position is so awful because I can find nowhere, I cannot find\nwithin me strength to support me.\"\n\n\"You will find support; seek it--not in me, though I beseech you to\nbelieve in my friendship,\" she said, with a sigh. \"Our support is love,\nthat love that He has vouchsafed us. His burden is light,\" she said,\nwith the look of ecstasy Alexey Alexandrovitch knew so well. \"He will be\nyour support and your succor.\"\n\nAlthough there was in these words a flavor of that sentimental emotion\nat her own lofty feelings, and that new mystical fervor which had lately\ngained ground in Petersburg, and which seemed to Alexey Alexandrovitch\ndisproportionate, still it was pleasant to him to hear this now.\n\n\"I am weak. I am crushed. I foresaw nothing, and now I understand\nnothing.\"\n\n\"Dear friend,\" repeated Lidia Ivanovna.\n\n\"It's not the loss of what I have not now, it's not that!\" pursued\nAlexey Alexandrovitch. \"I do not grieve for that. But I cannot help\nfeeling humiliated before other people for the position I am placed in.\nIt is wrong, but I can't help it, I can't help it.\"\n\n\"Not you it was performed that noble act of forgiveness, at which I was\nmoved to ecstasy, and everyone else too, but He, working within your\nheart,\" said Countess Lidia Ivanovna, raising her eyes rapturously, \"and\nso you cannot be ashamed of your act.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch knitted his brows, and crooking his hands, he\ncracked his fingers.\n\n\"One must know all the facts,\" he said in his thin voice. \"A man's\nstrength has its limits, countess, and I have reached my limits. The\nwhole day I have had to be making arrangements, arrangements about\nhousehold matters arising\" (he emphasized the word _arising_) \"from my\nnew, solitary position. The servants, the governess, the accounts....\nThese pinpricks have stabbed me to the heart, and I have not the\nstrength to bear it. At dinner ... yesterday, I was almost getting up\nfrom the dinner table. I could not bear the way my son looked at me. He\ndid not ask me the meaning of it all, but he wanted to ask, and I could\nnot bear the look in his eyes. He was afraid to look at me, but that is\nnot all....\" Alexey Alexandrovitch would have referred to the bill that\nhad been brought him, but his voice shook, and he stopped. That bill on\nblue paper, for a hat and ribbons, he could not recall without a rush of\nself-pity.\n\n\"I understand, dear friend,\" said Lidia Ivanovna. \"I understand it all.\nSuccor and comfort you will find not in me, though I have come only to\naid you if I can. If I could take from off you all these petty,\nhumiliating cares ... I understand that a woman's word, a woman's\nsuperintendence is needed. You will intrust it to me?\"\n\nSilently and gratefully Alexey Alexandrovitch pressed her hand.\n\n\"Together we will take care of Seryozha. Practical affairs are not my\nstrong point. But I will set to work. I will be your housekeeper. Don't\nthank me. I do it not from myself...\"\n\n\"I cannot help thanking you.\"\n\n\"But, dear friend, do not give way to the feeling of which you\nspoke--being ashamed of what is the Christian's highest glory: _he who\nhumbles himself shall be exalted_. And you cannot thank me. You must\nthank Him, and pray to Him for succor. In Him alone we find peace,\nconsolation, salvation, and love,\" she said, and turning her eyes\nheavenwards, she began praying, as Alexey Alexandrovitch gathered from\nher silence.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch listened to her now, and those expressions which\nhad seemed to him, if not distasteful, at least exaggerated, now seemed\nto him natural and consolatory. Alexey Alexandrovitch had disliked this\nnew enthusiastic fervor. He was a believer, who was interested in\nreligion primarily in its political aspect, and the new doctrine which\nventured upon several new interpretations, just because it paved the way\nto discussion and analysis, was in principle disagreeable to him. He had\nhitherto taken up a cold and even antagonistic attitude to this new\ndoctrine, and with Countess Lidia Ivanovna, who had been carried away by\nit, he had never argued, but by silence had assiduously parried her\nattempts to provoke him into argument. Now for the first time he heard\nher words with pleasure, and did not inwardly oppose them.\n\n\"I am very, very grateful to you, both for your deeds and for your\nwords,\" he said, when she had finished praying.\n\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna once more pressed both her friend's hands.\n\n\"Now I will enter upon my duties,\" she said with a smile after a pause,\nas she wiped away the traces of tears. \"I am going to Seryozha. Only in\nthe last extremity shall I apply to you.\" And she got up and went out.\n\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna went into Seryozha's part of the house, and\ndropping tears on the scared child's cheeks, she told him that his\nfather was a saint and his mother was dead.\n\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna kept her promise. She did actually take upon\nherself the care of the organization and management of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's household. But she had not overstated the case when\nsaying that practical affairs were not her strong point. All her\narrangements had to be modified because they could not be carried out,\nand they were modified by Korney, Alexey Alexandrovitch's valet, who,\nthough no one was aware of the fact, now managed Karenin's household,\nand quietly and discreetly reported to his master while he was dressing\nall it was necessary for him to know. But Lidia Ivanovna's help was none\nthe less real; she gave Alexey Alexandrovitch moral support in the\nconsciousness of her love and respect for him, and still more, as it was\nsoothing to her to believe, in that she almost turned him to\nChristianity--that is, from an indifferent and apathetic believer she\nturned him into an ardent and steadfast adherent of the new\ninterpretation of Christian doctrine, which had been gaining ground of\nlate in Petersburg. It was easy for Alexey Alexandrovitch to believe in\nthis teaching. Alexey Alexandrovitch, like Lidia Ivanovna indeed, and\nothers who shared their views, was completely devoid of vividness of\nimagination, that spiritual faculty in virtue of which the conceptions\nevoked by the imagination become so vivid that they must needs be in\nharmony with other conceptions, and with actual fact. He saw nothing\nimpossible and inconceivable in the idea that death, though existing for\nunbelievers, did not exist for him, and that, as he was possessed of the\nmost perfect faith, of the measure of which he was himself the judge,\ntherefore there was no sin in his soul, and he was experiencing complete\nsalvation here on earth.\n\nIt is true that the erroneousness and shallowness of this conception of\nhis faith was dimly perceptible to Alexey Alexandrovitch, and he knew\nthat when, without the slightest idea that his forgiveness was the\naction of a higher power, he had surrendered directly to the feeling of\nforgiveness, he had felt more happiness than now when he was thinking\nevery instant that Christ was in his heart, and that in signing official\npapers he was doing His will. But for Alexey Alexandrovitch it was a\nnecessity to think in that way; it was such a necessity for him in his\nhumiliation to have some elevated standpoint, however imaginary, from\nwhich, looked down upon by all, he could look down on others, that he\nclung, as to his one salvation, to his delusion of salvation.\n\n\n\nChapter 23\n\n\nThe Countess Lidia Ivanovna had, as a very young and sentimental girl,\nbeen married to a wealthy man of high rank, an extremely good-natured,\njovial, and extremely dissipated rake. Two months after marriage her\nhusband abandoned her, and her impassioned protestations of affection he\nmet with a sarcasm and even hostility that people knowing the count's\ngood heart, and seeing no defects in the sentimental Lidia, were at a\nloss to explain. Though they were divorced and lived apart, yet whenever\nthe husband met the wife, he invariably behaved to her with the same\nmalignant irony, the cause of which was incomprehensible.\n\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna had long given up being in love with her\nhusband, but from that time she had never given up being in love with\nsomeone. She was in love with several people at once, both men and\nwomen; she had been in love with almost everyone who had been\nparticularly distinguished in any way. She was in love with all the new\nprinces and princesses who married into the imperial family; she had\nbeen in love with a high dignitary of the Church, a vicar, and a parish\npriest; she had been in love with a journalist, three Slavophiles, with\nKomissarov, with a minister, a doctor, an English missionary and\nKarenin. All these passions constantly waning or growing more ardent,\ndid not prevent her from keeping up the most extended and complicated\nrelations with the court and fashionable society. But from the time that\nafter Karenin's trouble she took him under her special protection, from\nthe time that she set to work in Karenin's household looking after his\nwelfare, she felt that all her other attachments were not the real\nthing, and that she was now genuinely in love, and with no one but\nKarenin. The feeling she now experienced for him seemed to her stronger\nthan any of her former feelings. Analyzing her feeling, and comparing it\nwith former passions, she distinctly perceived that she would not have\nbeen in love with Komissarov if he had not saved the life of the Tsar,\nthat she would not have been in love with Ristitch-Kudzhitsky if there\nhad been no Slavonic question, but that she loved Karenin for himself,\nfor his lofty, uncomprehended soul, for the sweet--to her--high notes of\nhis voice, for his drawling intonation, his weary eyes, his character,\nand his soft white hands with their swollen veins. She was not simply\noverjoyed at meeting him, but she sought in his face signs of the\nimpression she was making on him. She tried to please him, not by her\nwords only, but in her whole person. For his sake it was that she now\nlavished more care on her dress than before. She caught herself in\nreveries on what might have been, if she had not been married and he had\nbeen free. She blushed with emotion when he came into the room, she\ncould not repress a smile of rapture when he said anything amiable to\nher.\n\nFor several days now Countess Lidia Ivanovna had been in a state of\nintense excitement. She had learned that Anna and Vronsky were in\nPetersburg. Alexey Alexandrovitch must be saved from seeing her, he must\nbe saved even from the torturing knowledge that that awful woman was in\nthe same town with him, and that he might meet her any minute.\n\nLidia Ivanovna made inquiries through her friends as to what those\n_infamous people_, as she called Anna and Vronsky, intended doing, and\nshe endeavored so to guide every movement of her friend during those\ndays that he could not come across them. The young adjutant, an\nacquaintance of Vronsky, through whom she obtained her information, and\nwho hoped through Countess Lidia Ivanovna to obtain a concession, told\nher that they had finished their business and were going away next day.\nLidia Ivanovna had already begun to calm down, when the next morning a\nnote was brought her, the handwriting of which she recognized with\nhorror. It was the handwriting of Anna Karenina. The envelope was of\npaper as thick as bark; on the oblong yellow paper there was a huge\nmonogram, and the letter smelt of agreeable scent.\n\n\"Who brought it?\"\n\n\"A commissionaire from the hotel.\"\n\nIt was some time before Countess Lidia Ivanovna could sit down to read\nthe letter. Her excitement brought on an attack of asthma, to which she\nwas subject. When she had recovered her composure, she read the\nfollowing letter in French:\n\n \"Madame la Comtesse,\n\n \"The Christian feelings with which your heart is filled give me\n the, I feel, unpardonable boldness to write to you. I am\n miserable at being separated from my son. I entreat permission\n to see him once before my departure. Forgive me for recalling\n myself to your memory. I apply to you and not to Alexey\n Alexandrovitch, simply because I do not wish to cause that\n generous man to suffer in remembering me. Knowing your\n friendship for him, I know you will understand me. Could you\n send Seryozha to me, or should I come to the house at some fixed\n hour, or will you let me know when and where I could see him\n away from home? I do not anticipate a refusal, knowing the\n magnanimity of him with whom it rests. You cannot conceive the\n craving I have to see him, and so cannot conceive the gratitude\n your help will arouse in me.\n\n Anna\"\n\nEverything in this letter exasperated Countess Lidia Ivanovna: its\ncontents and the allusion to magnanimity, and especially its free and\neasy--as she considered--tone.\n\n\"Say that there is no answer,\" said Countess Lidia Ivanovna, and\nimmediately opening her blotting-book, she wrote to Alexey\nAlexandrovitch that she hoped to see him at one o'clock at the levee.\n\n\"I must talk with you of a grave and painful subject. There we will\narrange where to meet. Best of all at my house, where I will order tea\n_as you like it_. Urgent. He lays the cross, but He gives the strength\nto bear it,\" she added, so as to give him some slight preparation.\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna usually wrote some two or three letters a day to\nAlexey Alexandrovitch. She enjoyed that form of communication, which\ngave opportunity for a refinement and air of mystery not afforded by\ntheir personal interviews.\n\n\n\nChapter 24\n\n\nThe levee was drawing to a close. People met as they were going away,\nand gossiped of the latest news, of the newly bestowed honors and the\nchanges in the positions of the higher functionaries.\n\n\"If only Countess Marya Borissovna were Minister of War, and Princess\nVatkovskaya were Commander-in-Chief,\" said a gray-headed, little old man\nin a gold-embroidered uniform, addressing a tall, handsome maid of honor\nwho had questioned him about the new appointments.\n\n\"And me among the adjutants,\" said the maid of honor, smiling.\n\n\"You have an appointment already. You're over the ecclesiastical\ndepartment. And your assistant's Karenin.\"\n\n\"Good-day, prince!\" said the little old man to a man who came up to him.\n\n\"What were you saying of Karenin?\" said the prince.\n\n\"He and Putyatov have received the Alexander Nevsky.\"\n\n\"I thought he had it already.\"\n\n\"No. Just look at him,\" said the little old man, pointing with his\nembroidered hat to Karenin in a court uniform with the new red ribbon\nacross his shoulders, standing in the doorway of the hall with an\ninfluential member of the Imperial Council. \"Pleased and happy as a\nbrass farthing,\" he added, stopping to shake hands with a handsome\ngentleman of the bedchamber of colossal proportions.\n\n\"No; he's looking older,\" said the gentleman of the bedchamber.\n\n\"From overwork. He's always drawing up projects nowadays. He won't let a\npoor devil go nowadays till he's explained it all to him under heads.\"\n\n\"Looking older, did you say? _Il fait des passions_. I believe Countess\nLidia Ivanovna's jealous now of his wife.\"\n\n\"Oh, come now, please don't say any harm of Countess Lidia Ivanovna.\"\n\n\"Why, is there any harm in her being in love with Karenin?\"\n\n\"But is it true Madame Karenina's here?\"\n\n\"Well, not here in the palace, but in Petersburg. I met her yesterday\nwith Alexey Vronsky, _bras dessous, bras dessous_, in the Morsky.\"\n\n\"C'est un homme qui n'a pas...\" the gentleman of the bedchamber was\nbeginning, but he stopped to make room, bowing, for a member of the\nImperial family to pass.\n\nThus people talked incessantly of Alexey Alexandrovitch, finding fault\nwith him and laughing at him, while he, blocking up the way of the\nmember of the Imperial Council he had captured, was explaining to him\npoint by point his new financial project, never interrupting his\ndiscourse for an instant for fear he should escape.\n\nAlmost at the same time that his wife left Alexey Alexandrovitch there\nhad come to him that bitterest moment in the life of an official--the\nmoment when his upward career comes to a full stop. This full stop had\narrived and everyone perceived it, but Alexey Alexandrovitch himself was\nnot yet aware that his career was over. Whether it was due to his feud\nwith Stremov, or his misfortune with his wife, or simply that Alexey\nAlexandrovitch had reached his destined limits, it had become evident to\neveryone in the course of that year that his career was at an end. He\nstill filled a position of consequence, he sat on many commissions and\ncommittees, but he was a man whose day was over, and from whom nothing\nwas expected. Whatever he said, whatever he proposed, was heard as\nthough it were something long familiar, and the very thing that was not\nneeded. But Alexey Alexandrovitch was not aware of this, and, on the\ncontrary, being cut off from direct participation in governmental\nactivity, he saw more clearly than ever the errors and defects in the\naction of others, and thought it his duty to point out means for their\ncorrection. Shortly after his separation from his wife, he began writing\nhis first note on the new judicial procedure, the first of the endless\nseries of notes he was destined to write in the future.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch did not merely fail to observe his hopeless\nposition in the official world, he was not merely free from anxiety on\nthis head, he was positively more satisfied than ever with his own\nactivity.\n\n\"He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how\nhe may please the Lord: But he that is married careth for the things\nthat are of the world, how he may please his wife,\" says the Apostle\nPaul, and Alexey Alexandrovitch, who was now guided in every action by\nScripture, often recalled this text. It seemed to him that ever since he\nhad been left without a wife, he had in these very projects of reform\nbeen serving the Lord more zealously than before.\n\nThe unmistakable impatience of the member of the Council trying to get\naway from him did not trouble Alexey Alexandrovitch; he gave up his\nexposition only when the member of the Council, seizing his chance when\none of the Imperial family was passing, slipped away from him.\n\nLeft alone, Alexey Alexandrovitch looked down, collecting his thoughts,\nthen looked casually about him and walked towards the door, where he\nhoped to meet Countess Lidia Ivanovna.\n\n\"And how strong they all are, how sound physically,\" thought Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, looking at the powerfully built gentleman of the\nbedchamber with his well-combed, perfumed whiskers, and at the red neck\nof the prince, pinched by his tight uniform. He had to pass them on his\nway. \"Truly is it said that all the world is evil,\" he thought, with\nanother sidelong glance at the calves of the gentleman of the\nbedchamber.\n\nMoving forward deliberately, Alexey Alexandrovitch bowed with his\ncustomary air of weariness and dignity to the gentleman who had been\ntalking about him, and looking towards the door, his eyes sought\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna.\n\n\"Ah! Alexey Alexandrovitch!\" said the little old man, with a malicious\nlight in his eyes, at the moment when Karenin was on a level with them,\nand was nodding with a frigid gesture, \"I haven't congratulated you\nyet,\" said the old man, pointing to his newly received ribbon.\n\n\"Thank you,\" answered Alexey Alexandrovitch. \"What an _exquisite_ day\ntoday,\" he added, laying emphasis in his peculiar way on the word\n_exquisite_.\n\nThat they laughed at him he was well aware, but he did not expect\nanything but hostility from them; he was used to that by now.\n\nCatching sight of the yellow shoulders of Lidia Ivanovna jutting out\nabove her corset, and her fine pensive eyes bidding him to her, Alexey\nAlexandrovitch smiled, revealing untarnished white teeth, and went\ntowards her.\n\nLidia Ivanovna's dress had cost her great pains, as indeed all her\ndresses had done of late. Her aim in dress was now quite the reverse of\nthat she had pursued thirty years before. Then her desire had been to\nadorn herself with something, and the more adorned the better. Now, on\nthe contrary, she was perforce decked out in a way so inconsistent with\nher age and her figure, that her one anxiety was to contrive that the\ncontrast between these adornments and her own exterior should not be too\nappalling. And as far as Alexey Alexandrovitch was concerned she\nsucceeded, and was in his eyes attractive. For him she was the one\nisland not only of goodwill to him, but of love in the midst of the sea\nof hostility and jeering that surrounded him.\n\nPassing through rows of ironical eyes, he was drawn as naturally to her\nloving glance as a plant to the sun.\n\n\"I congratulate you,\" she said to him, her eyes on his ribbon.\n\nSuppressing a smile of pleasure, he shrugged his shoulders, closing his\neyes, as though to say that that could not be a source of joy to him.\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna was very well aware that it was one of his chief\nsources of satisfaction, though he never admitted it.\n\n\"How is our angel?\" said Countess Lidia Ivanovna, meaning Seryozha.\n\n\"I can't say I was quite pleased with him,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch,\nraising his eyebrows and opening his eyes. \"And Sitnikov is not\nsatisfied with him.\" (Sitnikov was the tutor to whom Seryozha's secular\neducation had been intrusted.) \"As I have mentioned to you, there's a\nsort of coldness in him towards the most important questions which ought\nto touch the heart of every man and every child....\" Alexey\nAlexandrovitch began expounding his views on the sole question that\ninterested him besides the service--the education of his son.\n\nWhen Alexey Alexandrovitch with Lidia Ivanovna's help had been brought\nback anew to life and activity, he felt it his duty to undertake the\neducation of the son left on his hands. Having never before taken any\ninterest in educational questions, Alexey Alexandrovitch devoted some\ntime to the theoretical study of the subject. After reading several\nbooks on anthropology, education, and didactics, Alexey Alexandrovitch\ndrew up a plan of education, and engaging the best tutor in Petersburg\nto superintend it, he set to work, and the subject continually absorbed\nhim.\n\n\"Yes, but the heart. I see in him his father's heart, and with such a\nheart a child cannot go far wrong,\" said Lidia Ivanovna with enthusiasm.\n\n\"Yes, perhaps.... As for me, I do my duty. It's all I can do.\"\n\n\"You're coming to me,\" said Countess Lidia Ivanovna, after a pause; \"we\nhave to speak of a subject painful for you. I would give anything to\nhave spared you certain memories, but others are not of the same mind. I\nhave received a letter from _her_. _She_ is here in Petersburg.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch shuddered at the allusion to his wife, but\nimmediately his face assumed the deathlike rigidity which expressed\nutter helplessness in the matter.\n\n\"I was expecting it,\" he said.\n\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna looked at him ecstatically, and tears of rapture\nat the greatness of his soul came into her eyes.\n\n\n\nChapter 25\n\n\nWhen Alexey Alexandrovitch came into the Countess Lidia Ivanovna's snug\nlittle boudoir, decorated with old china and hung with portraits, the\nlady herself had not yet made her appearance.\n\nShe was changing her dress.\n\nA cloth was laid on a round table, and on it stood a china tea service\nand a silver spirit-lamp and tea kettle. Alexey Alexandrovitch looked\nidly about at the endless familiar portraits which adorned the room, and\nsitting down to the table, he opened a New Testament lying upon it. The\nrustle of the countess's silk skirt drew his attention off.\n\n\"Well now, we can sit quietly,\" said Countess Lidia Ivanovna, slipping\nhurriedly with an agitated smile between the table and the sofa, \"and\ntalk over our tea.\"\n\nAfter some words of preparation, Countess Lidia Ivanovna, breathing hard\nand flushing crimson, gave into Alexey Alexandrovitch's hands the letter\nshe had received.\n\nAfter reading the letter, he sat a long while in silence.\n\n\"I don't think I have the right to refuse her,\" he said, timidly lifting\nhis eyes.\n\n\"Dear friend, you never see evil in anyone!\"\n\n\"On the contrary, I see that all is evil. But whether it is just...\"\n\nHis face showed irresolution, and a seeking for counsel, support, and\nguidance in a matter he did not understand.\n\n\"No,\" Countess Lidia Ivanovna interrupted him; \"there are limits to\neverything. I can understand immorality,\" she said, not quite\ntruthfully, since she never could understand that which leads women to\nimmorality; \"but I don't understand cruelty: to whom? to you! How can\nshe stay in the town where you are? No, the longer one lives the more\none learns. And I'm learning to understand your loftiness and her\nbaseness.\"\n\n\"Who is to throw a stone?\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, unmistakably\npleased with the part he had to play. \"I have forgiven all, and so I\ncannot deprive her of what is exacted by love in her--by her love for\nher son....\"\n\n\"But is that love, my friend? Is it sincere? Admitting that you have\nforgiven--that you forgive--have we the right to work on the feelings of\nthat angel? He looks on her as dead. He prays for her, and beseeches God\nto have mercy on her sins. And it is better so. But now what will he\nthink?\"\n\n\"I had not thought of that,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, evidently\nagreeing.\n\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna hid her face in her hands and was silent. She\nwas praying.\n\n\"If you ask my advice,\" she said, having finished her prayer and\nuncovered her face, \"I do not advise you to do this. Do you suppose I\ndon't see how you are suffering, how this has torn open your wounds? But\nsupposing that, as always, you don't think of yourself, what can it lead\nto?--to fresh suffering for you, to torture for the child. If there were\na trace of humanity left in her, she ought not to wish for it herself.\nNo, I have no hesitation in saying I advise not, and if you will intrust\nit to me, I will write to her.\"\n\nAnd Alexey Alexandrovitch consented, and Countess Lidia Ivanovna sent\nthe following letter in French:\n\n \"Dear Madame,\n\n \"To be reminded of you might have results for your son in\n leading to questions on his part which could not be answered\n without implanting in the child's soul a spirit of censure\n towards what should be for him sacred, and therefore I beg you\n to interpret your husband's refusal in the spirit of Christian\n love. I pray to Almighty God to have mercy on you.\n\n Countess Lidia\"\n\nThis letter attained the secret object which Countess Lidia Ivanovna had\nconcealed from herself. It wounded Anna to the quick.\n\nFor his part, Alexey Alexandrovitch, on returning home from Lidia\nIvanovna's, could not all that day concentrate himself on his usual\npursuits, and find that spiritual peace of one saved and believing which\nhe had felt of late.\n\nThe thought of his wife, who had so greatly sinned against him, and\ntowards whom he had been so saintly, as Countess Lidia Ivanovna had so\njustly told him, ought not to have troubled him; but he was not easy; he\ncould not understand the book he was reading; he could not drive away\nharassing recollections of his relations with her, of the mistake which,\nas it now seemed, he had made in regard to her. The memory of how he had\nreceived her confession of infidelity on their way home from the races\n(especially that he had insisted only on the observance of external\ndecorum, and had not sent a challenge) tortured him like a remorse. He\nwas tortured too by the thought of the letter he had written her; and\nmost of all, his forgiveness, which nobody wanted, and his care of the\nother man's child made his heart burn with shame and remorse.\n\nAnd just the same feeling of shame and regret he felt now, as he\nreviewed all his past with her, recalling the awkward words in which,\nafter long wavering, he had made her an offer.\n\n\"But how have I been to blame?\" he said to himself. And this question\nalways excited another question in him--whether they felt differently,\ndid their loving and marrying differently, these Vronskys and Oblonskys\n... these gentlemen of the bedchamber, with their fine calves. And there\npassed before his mind a whole series of these mettlesome, vigorous,\nself-confident men, who always and everywhere drew his inquisitive\nattention in spite of himself. He tried to dispel these thoughts, he\ntried to persuade himself that he was not living for this transient\nlife, but for the life of eternity, and that there was peace and love in\nhis heart.\n\nBut the fact that he had in this transient, trivial life made, as it\nseemed to him, a few trivial mistakes tortured him as though the eternal\nsalvation in which he believed had no existence. But this temptation did\nnot last long, and soon there was reestablished once more in Alexey\nAlexandrovitch's soul the peace and the elevation by virtue of which he\ncould forget what he did not want to remember.\n\n\n\nChapter 26\n\n\n\"Well, Kapitonitch?\" said Seryozha, coming back rosy and good-humored\nfrom his walk the day before his birthday, and giving his overcoat to\nthe tall old hall porter, who smiled down at the little person from the\nheight of his long figure. \"Well, has the bandaged clerk been here\ntoday? Did papa see him?\"\n\n\"He saw him. The minute the chief secretary came out, I announced him,\"\nsaid the hall porter with a good-humored wink. \"Here, I'll take it off.\"\n\n\"Seryozha!\" said the tutor, stopping in the doorway leading to the inner\nrooms. \"Take it off yourself.\" But Seryozha, though he heard his tutor's\nfeeble voice, did not pay attention to it. He stood keeping hold of the\nhall porter's belt, and gazing into his face.\n\n\"Well, and did papa do what he wanted for him?\"\n\nThe hall porter nodded his head affirmatively. The clerk with his face\ntied up, who had already been seven times to ask some favor of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, interested both Seryozha and the hall porter. Seryozha\nhad come upon him in the hall, and had heard him plaintively beg the\nhall porter to announce him, saying that he and his children had death\nstaring them in the face.\n\nSince then Seryozha, having met him a second time in the hall, took\ngreat interest in him.\n\n\"Well, was he very glad?\" he asked.\n\n\"Glad? I should think so! Almost dancing as he walked away.\"\n\n\"And has anything been left?\" asked Seryozha, after a pause.\n\n\"Come, sir,\" said the hall-porter; then with a shake of his head he\nwhispered, \"Something from the countess.\"\n\nSeryozha understood at once that what the hall porter was speaking of\nwas a present from Countess Lidia Ivanovna for his birthday.\n\n\"What do you say? Where?\"\n\n\"Korney took it to your papa. A fine plaything it must be too!\"\n\n\"How big? Like this?\"\n\n\"Rather small, but a fine thing.\"\n\n\"A book.\"\n\n\"No, a thing. Run along, run along, Vassily Lukitch is calling you,\"\nsaid the porter, hearing the tutor's steps approaching, and carefully\ntaking away from his belt the little hand in the glove half pulled off,\nhe signed with his head towards the tutor.\n\n\"Vassily Lukitch, in a tiny minute!\" answered Seryozha with that gay and\nloving smile which always won over the conscientious Vassily Lukitch.\n\nSeryozha was too happy, everything was too delightful for him to be able\nto help sharing with his friend the porter the family good fortune of\nwhich he had heard during his walk in the public gardens from Lidia\nIvanovna's niece. This piece of good news seemed to him particularly\nimportant from its coming at the same time with the gladness of the\nbandaged clerk and his own gladness at toys having come for him. It\nseemed to Seryozha that this was a day on which everyone ought to be\nglad and happy.\n\n\"You know papa's received the Alexander Nevsky today?\"\n\n\"To be sure I do! People have been already to congratulate him.\"\n\n\"And is he glad?\"\n\n\"Glad at the Tsar's gracious favor! I should think so! It's a proof he's\ndeserved it,\" said the porter severely and seriously.\n\nSeryozha fell to dreaming, gazing up at the face of the porter, which he\nhad thoroughly studied in every detail, especially the chin that hung\ndown between the gray whiskers, never seen by anyone but Seryozha, who\nsaw him only from below.\n\n\"Well, and has your daughter been to see you lately?\"\n\nThe porter's daughter was a ballet dancer.\n\n\"When is she to come on week-days? They've their lessons to learn too.\nAnd you've your lesson, sir; run along.\"\n\nOn coming into the room, Seryozha, instead of sitting down to his\nlessons, told his tutor of his supposition that what had been brought\nhim must be a machine. \"What do you think?\" he inquired.\n\nBut Vassily Lukitch was thinking of nothing but the necessity of\nlearning the grammar lesson for the teacher, who was coming at two.\n\n\"No, do just tell me, Vassily Lukitch,\" he asked suddenly, when he was\nseated at their work table with the book in his hands, \"what is greater\nthan the Alexander Nevsky? You know papa's received the Alexander\nNevsky?\"\n\nVassily Lukitch replied that the Vladimir was greater than the Alexander\nNevsky.\n\n\"And higher still?\"\n\n\"Well, highest of all is the Andrey Pervozvanny.\"\n\n\"And higher than the Andrey?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\n\"What, you don't know?\" and Seryozha, leaning on his elbows, sank into\ndeep meditation.\n\nHis meditations were of the most complex and diverse character. He\nimagined his father's having suddenly been presented with both the\nVladimir and the Andrey today, and in consequence being much better\ntempered at his lesson, and dreamed how, when he was grown up, he would\nhimself receive all the orders, and what they might invent higher than\nthe Andrey. Directly any higher order were invented, he would win it.\nThey would make a higher one still, and he would immediately win that\ntoo.\n\nThe time passed in such meditations, and when the teacher came, the\nlesson about the adverbs of place and time and manner of action was not\nready, and the teacher was not only displeased, but hurt. This touched\nSeryozha. He felt he was not to blame for not having learned the lesson;\nhowever much he tried, he was utterly unable to do that. As long as the\nteacher was explaining to him, he believed him and seemed to comprehend,\nbut as soon as he was left alone, he was positively unable to recollect\nand to understand that the short and familiar word \"suddenly\" is an\nadverb of manner of action. Still he was sorry that he had disappointed\nthe teacher.\n\nHe chose a moment when the teacher was looking in silence at the book.\n\n\"Mihail Ivanitch, when is your birthday?\" he asked all, of a sudden.\n\n\"You'd much better be thinking about your work. Birthdays are of no\nimportance to a rational being. It's a day like any other on which one\nhas to do one's work.\"\n\nSeryozha looked intently at the teacher, at his scanty beard, at his\nspectacles, which had slipped down below the ridge on his nose, and fell\ninto so deep a reverie that he heard nothing of what the teacher was\nexplaining to him. He knew that the teacher did not think what he said;\nhe felt it from the tone in which it was said. \"But why have they all\nagreed to speak just in the same manner always the dreariest and most\nuseless stuff? Why does he keep me off; why doesn't he love me?\" he\nasked himself mournfully, and could not think of an answer.\n\n\n\nChapter 27\n\n\nAfter the lesson with the grammar teacher came his father's lesson.\nWhile waiting for his father, Seryozha sat at the table playing with a\npenknife, and fell to dreaming. Among Seryozha's favorite occupations\nwas searching for his mother during his walks. He did not believe in\ndeath generally, and in her death in particular, in spite of what Lidia\nIvanovna had told him and his father had confirmed, and it was just\nbecause of that, and after he had been told she was dead, that he had\nbegun looking for her when out for a walk. Every woman of full, graceful\nfigure with dark hair was his mother. At the sight of such a woman such\na feeling of tenderness was stirred within him that his breath failed\nhim, and tears came into his eyes. And he was on the tiptoe of\nexpectation that she would come up to him, would lift her veil. All her\nface would be visible, she would smile, she would hug him, he would\nsniff her fragrance, feel the softness of her arms, and cry with\nhappiness, just as he had one evening lain on her lap while she tickled\nhim, and he laughed and bit her white, ring-covered fingers. Later, when\nhe accidentally learned from his old nurse that his mother was not dead,\nand his father and Lidia Ivanovna had explained to him that she was dead\nto him because she was wicked (which he could not possibly believe,\nbecause he loved her), he went on seeking her and expecting her in the\nsame way. That day in the public gardens there had been a lady in a\nlilac veil, whom he had watched with a throbbing heart, believing it to\nbe she as she came towards them along the path. The lady had not come up\nto them, but had disappeared somewhere. That day, more intensely than\never, Seryozha felt a rush of love for her, and now, waiting for his\nfather, he forgot everything, and cut all round the edge of the table\nwith his penknife, staring straight before him with sparkling eyes and\ndreaming of her.\n\n\"Here is your papa!\" said Vassily Lukitch, rousing him.\n\nSeryozha jumped up and went up to his father, and kissing his hand,\nlooked at him intently, trying to discover signs of his joy at receiving\nthe Alexander Nevsky.\n\n\"Did you have a nice walk?\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, sitting down in\nhis easy chair, pulling the volume of the Old Testament to him and\nopening it. Although Alexey Alexandrovitch had more than once told\nSeryozha that every Christian ought to know Scripture history\nthoroughly, he often referred to the Bible himself during the lesson,\nand Seryozha observed this.\n\n\"Yes, it was very nice indeed, papa,\" said Seryozha, sitting sideways on\nhis chair and rocking it, which was forbidden. \"I saw Nadinka\" (Nadinka\nwas a niece of Lidia Ivanovna's who was being brought up in her house).\n\"She told me you'd been given a new star. Are you glad, papa?\"\n\n\"First of all, don't rock your chair, please,\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch. \"And secondly, it's not the reward that's precious, but\nthe work itself. And I could have wished you understood that. If you now\nare going to work, to study in order to win a reward, then the work will\nseem hard to you; but when you work\" (Alexey Alexandrovitch, as he\nspoke, thought of how he had been sustained by a sense of duty through\nthe wearisome labor of the morning, consisting of signing one hundred\nand eighty papers), \"loving your work, you will find your reward in it.\"\n\nSeryozha's eyes, that had been shining with gaiety and tenderness, grew\ndull and dropped before his father's gaze. This was the same\nlong-familiar tone his father always took with him, and Seryozha had\nlearned by now to fall in with it. His father always talked to him--so\nSeryozha felt--as though he were addressing some boy of his own\nimagination, one of those boys that exist in books, utterly unlike\nhimself. And Seryozha always tried with his father to act being the\nstory-book boy.\n\n\"You understand that, I hope?\" said his father.\n\n\"Yes, papa,\" answered Seryozha, acting the part of the imaginary boy.\n\nThe lesson consisted of learning by heart several verses out of the\nGospel and the repetition of the beginning of the Old Testament. The\nverses from the Gospel Seryozha knew fairly well, but at the moment when\nhe was saying them he became so absorbed in watching the sharply\nprotruding, bony knobbiness of his father's forehead, that he lost the\nthread, and he transposed the end of one verse and the beginning of\nanother. So it was evident to Alexey Alexandrovitch that he did not\nunderstand what he was saying, and that irritated him.\n\nHe frowned, and began explaining what Seryozha had heard many times\nbefore and never could remember, because he understood it too well, just\nas that \"suddenly\" is an adverb of manner of action. Seryozha looked\nwith scared eyes at his father, and could think of nothing but whether\nhis father would make him repeat what he had said, as he sometimes did.\nAnd this thought so alarmed Seryozha that he now understood nothing. But\nhis father did not make him repeat it, and passed on to the lesson out\nof the Old Testament. Seryozha recounted the events themselves well\nenough, but when he had to answer questions as to what certain events\nprefigured, he knew nothing, though he had already been punished over\nthis lesson. The passage at which he was utterly unable to say anything,\nand began fidgeting and cutting the table and swinging his chair, was\nwhere he had to repeat the patriarchs before the Flood. He did not know\none of them, except Enoch, who had been taken up alive to heaven. Last\ntime he had remembered their names, but now he had forgotten them\nutterly, chiefly because Enoch was the personage he liked best in the\nwhole of the Old Testament, and Enoch's translation to heaven was\nconnected in his mind with a whole long train of thought, in which he\nbecame absorbed now while he gazed with fascinated eyes at his father's\nwatch-chain and a half-unbuttoned button on his waistcoat.\n\nIn death, of which they talked to him so often, Seryozha disbelieved\nentirely. He did not believe that those he loved could die, above all\nthat he himself would die. That was to him something utterly\ninconceivable and impossible. But he had been told that all men die; he\nhad asked people, indeed, whom he trusted, and they too, had confirmed\nit; his old nurse, too, said the same, though reluctantly. But Enoch had\nnot died, and so it followed that everyone did not die. \"And why cannot\nanyone else so serve God and be taken alive to heaven?\" thought\nSeryozha. Bad people, that is those Seryozha did not like, they might\ndie, but the good might all be like Enoch.\n\n\"Well, what are the names of the patriarchs?\"\n\n\"Enoch, Enos--\"\n\n\"But you have said that already. This is bad, Seryozha, very bad. If you\ndon't try to learn what is more necessary than anything for a\nChristian,\" said his father, getting up, \"whatever can interest you? I\nam displeased with you, and Piotr Ignatitch\" (this was the most\nimportant of his teachers) \"is displeased with you.... I shall have to\npunish you.\"\n\nHis father and his teacher were both displeased with Seryozha, and he\ncertainly did learn his lessons very badly. But still it could not be\nsaid he was a stupid boy. On the contrary, he was far cleverer than the\nboys his teacher held up as examples to Seryozha. In his father's\nopinion, he did not want to learn what he was taught. In reality he\ncould not learn that. He could not, because the claims of his own soul\nwere more binding on him than those claims his father and his teacher\nmade upon him. Those claims were in opposition, and he was in direct\nconflict with his education. He was nine years old; he was a child; but\nhe knew his own soul, it was precious to him, he guarded it as the\neyelid guards the eye, and without the key of love he let no one into\nhis soul. His teachers complained that he would not learn, while his\nsoul was brimming over with thirst for knowledge. And he learned from\nKapitonitch, from his nurse, from Nadinka, from Vassily Lukitch, but not\nfrom his teachers. The spring his father and his teachers reckoned upon\nto turn their mill-wheels had long dried up at the source, but its\nwaters did their work in another channel.\n\nHis father punished Seryozha by not letting him go to see Nadinka, Lidia\nIvanovna's niece; but this punishment turned out happily for Seryozha.\nVassily Lukitch was in a good humor, and showed him how to make\nwindmills. The whole evening passed over this work and in dreaming how\nto make a windmill on which he could turn himself--clutching at the\nsails or tying himself on and whirling round. Of his mother Seryozha did\nnot think all the evening, but when he had gone to bed, he suddenly\nremembered her, and prayed in his own words that his mother tomorrow for\nhis birthday might leave off hiding herself and come to him.\n\n\"Vassily Lukitch, do you know what I prayed for tonight extra besides\nthe regular things?\"\n\n\"That you might learn your lessons better?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Toys?\"\n\n\"No. You'll never guess. A splendid thing; but it's a secret! When it\ncomes to pass I'll tell you. Can't you guess!\"\n\n\"No, I can't guess. You tell me,\" said Vassily Lukitch with a smile,\nwhich was rare with him. \"Come, lie down, I'm putting out the candle.\"\n\n\"Without the candle I can see better what I see and what I prayed for.\nThere! I was almost telling the secret!\" said Seryozha, laughing gaily.\n\nWhen the candle was taken away, Seryozha heard and felt his mother. She\nstood over him, and with loving eyes caressed him. But then came\nwindmills, a knife, everything began to be mixed up, and he fell asleep.\n\n\n\nChapter 28\n\n\nOn arriving in Petersburg, Vronsky and Anna stayed at one of the best\nhotels; Vronsky apart in a lower story, Anna above with her child, its\nnurse, and her maid, in a large suite of four rooms.\n\nOn the day of his arrival Vronsky went to his brother's. There he found\nhis mother, who had come from Moscow on business. His mother and\nsister-in-law greeted him as usual: they asked him about his stay\nabroad, and talked of their common acquaintances, but did not let drop a\nsingle word in allusion to his connection with Anna. His brother came\nthe next morning to see Vronsky, and of his own accord asked him about\nher, and Alexey Vronsky told him directly that he looked upon his\nconnection with Madame Karenina as marriage; that he hoped to arrange a\ndivorce, and then to marry her, and until then he considered her as much\na wife as any other wife, and he begged him to tell their mother and his\nwife so.\n\n\"If the world disapproves, I don't care,\" said Vronsky; \"but if my\nrelations want to be on terms of relationship with me, they will have to\nbe on the same terms with my wife.\"\n\nThe elder brother, who had always a respect for his younger brother's\njudgment, could not well tell whether he was right or not till the world\nhad decided the question; for his part he had nothing against it, and\nwith Alexey he went up to see Anna.\n\nBefore his brother, as before everyone, Vronsky addressed Anna with a\ncertain formality, treating her as he might a very intimate friend, but\nit was understood that his brother knew their real relations, and they\ntalked about Anna's going to Vronsky's estate.\n\nIn spite of all his social experience Vronsky was, in consequence of the\nnew position in which he was placed, laboring under a strange\nmisapprehension. One would have thought he must have understood that\nsociety was closed for him and Anna; but now some vague ideas had sprung\nup in his brain that this was only the case in old-fashioned days, and\nthat now with the rapidity of modern progress (he had unconsciously\nbecome by now a partisan of every sort of progress) the views of society\nhad changed, and that the question whether they would be received in\nsociety was not a foregone conclusion. \"Of course,\" he thought, \"she\nwould not be received at court, but intimate friends can and must look\nat it in the proper light.\" One may sit for several hours at a stretch\nwith one's legs crossed in the same position, if one knows that there's\nnothing to prevent one's changing one's position; but if a man knows\nthat he must remain sitting so with crossed legs, then cramps come on,\nthe legs begin to twitch and to strain towards the spot to which one\nwould like to draw them. This was what Vronsky was experiencing in\nregard to the world. Though at the bottom of his heart he knew that the\nworld was shut on them, he put it to the test whether the world had not\nchanged by now and would not receive them. But he very quickly perceived\nthat though the world was open for him personally, it was closed for\nAnna. Just as in the game of cat and mouse, the hands raised for him\nwere dropped to bar the way for Anna.\n\nOne of the first ladies of Petersburg society whom Vronsky saw was his\ncousin Betsy.\n\n\"At last!\" she greeted him joyfully. \"And Anna? How glad I am! Where are\nyou stopping? I can fancy after your delightful travels you must find\nour poor Petersburg horrid. I can fancy your honeymoon in Rome. How\nabout the divorce? Is that all over?\"\n\nVronsky noticed that Betsy's enthusiasm waned when she learned that no\ndivorce had as yet taken place.\n\n\"People will throw stones at me, I know,\" she said, \"but I shall come\nand see Anna; yes, I shall certainly come. You won't be here long, I\nsuppose?\"\n\nAnd she did certainly come to see Anna the same day, but her tone was\nnot at all the same as in former days. She unmistakably prided herself\non her courage, and wished Anna to appreciate the fidelity of her\nfriendship. She only stayed ten minutes, talking of society gossip, and\non leaving she said:\n\n\"You've never told me when the divorce is to be? Supposing I'm ready to\nfling my cap over the mill, other starchy people will give you the cold\nshoulder until you're married. And that's so simple nowadays. _Ca se\nfait_. So you're going on Friday? Sorry we shan't see each other again.\"\n\nFrom Betsy's tone Vronsky might have grasped what he had to expect from\nthe world; but he made another effort in his own family. His mother he\ndid not reckon upon. He knew that his mother, who had been so\nenthusiastic over Anna at their first acquaintance, would have no mercy\non her now for having ruined her son's career. But he had more hope of\nVarya, his brother's wife. He fancied she would not throw stones, and\nwould go simply and directly to see Anna, and would receive her in her\nown house.\n\nThe day after his arrival Vronsky went to her, and finding her alone,\nexpressed his wishes directly.\n\n\"You know, Alexey,\" she said after hearing him, \"how fond I am of you,\nand how ready I am to do anything for you; but I have not spoken,\nbecause I knew I could be of no use to you and to Anna Arkadyevna,\" she\nsaid, articulating the name \"Anna Arkadyevna\" with particular care.\n\"Don't suppose, please, that I judge her. Never; perhaps in her place I\nshould have done the same. I don't and can't enter into that,\" she said,\nglancing timidly at his gloomy face. \"But one must call things by their\nnames. You want me to go and see her, to ask her here, and to\nrehabilitate her in society; but do understand that I _cannot_ do so. I\nhave daughters growing up, and I must live in the world for my husband's\nsake. Well, I'm ready to come and see Anna Arkadyevna: she will\nunderstand that I can't ask her here, or I should have to do so in such\na way that she would not meet people who look at things differently;\nthat would offend her. I can't raise her...\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't regard her as fallen more than hundreds of women you do\nreceive!\" Vronsky interrupted her still more gloomily, and he got up in\nsilence, understanding that his sister-in-law's decision was not to be\nshaken.\n\n\"Alexey! don't be angry with me. Please understand that I'm not to\nblame,\" began Varya, looking at him with a timid smile.\n\n\"I'm not angry with you,\" he said still as gloomily; \"but I'm sorry in\ntwo ways. I'm sorry, too, that this means breaking up our friendship--if\nnot breaking up, at least weakening it. You will understand that for me,\ntoo, it cannot be otherwise.\"\n\nAnd with that he left her.\n\nVronsky knew that further efforts were useless, and that he had to spend\nthese few days in Petersburg as though in a strange town, avoiding every\nsort of relation with his own old circle in order not to be exposed to\nthe annoyances and humiliations which were so intolerable to him. One of\nthe most unpleasant features of his position in Petersburg was that\nAlexey Alexandrovitch and his name seemed to meet him everywhere. He\ncould not begin to talk of anything without the conversation turning on\nAlexey Alexandrovitch; he could not go anywhere without risk of meeting\nhim. So at least it seemed to Vronsky, just as it seems to a man with a\nsore finger that he is continually, as though on purpose, grazing his\nsore finger on everything.\n\nTheir stay in Petersburg was the more painful to Vronsky that he\nperceived all the time a sort of new mood that he could not understand\nin Anna. At one time she would seem in love with him, and then she would\nbecome cold, irritable, and impenetrable. She was worrying over\nsomething, and keeping something back from him, and did not seem to\nnotice the humiliations which poisoned his existence, and for her, with\nher delicate intuition, must have been still more unbearable.\n\n\n\nChapter 29\n\n\nOne of Anna's objects in coming back to Russia had been to see her son.\nFrom the day she left Italy the thought of it had never ceased to\nagitate her. And as she got nearer to Petersburg, the delight and\nimportance of this meeting grew ever greater in her imagination. She did\nnot even put to herself the question how to arrange it. It seemed to her\nnatural and simple to see her son when she should be in the same town\nwith him. But on her arrival in Petersburg she was suddenly made\ndistinctly aware of her present position in society, and she grasped the\nfact that to arrange this meeting was no easy matter.\n\nShe had now been two days in Petersburg. The thought of her son never\nleft her for a single instant, but she had not yet seen him. To go\nstraight to the house, where she might meet Alexey Alexandrovitch, that\nshe felt she had no right to do. She might be refused admittance and\ninsulted. To write and so enter into relations with her husband--that it\nmade her miserable to think of doing; she could only be at peace when\nshe did not think of her husband. To get a glimpse of her son out\nwalking, finding out where and when he went out, was not enough for her;\nshe had so looked forward to this meeting, she had so much she must say\nto him, she so longed to embrace him, to kiss him. Seryozha's old nurse\nmight be a help to her and show her what to do. But the nurse was not\nnow living in Alexey Alexandrovitch's house. In this uncertainty, and in\nefforts to find the nurse, two days had slipped by.\n\nHearing of the close intimacy between Alexey Alexandrovitch and Countess\nLidia Ivanovna, Anna decided on the third day to write to her a letter,\nwhich cost her great pains, and in which she intentionally said that\npermission to see her son must depend on her husband's generosity. She\nknew that if the letter were shown to her husband, he would keep up his\ncharacter of magnanimity, and would not refuse her request.\n\nThe commissionaire who took the letter had brought her back the most\ncruel and unexpected answer, that there was no answer. She had never\nfelt so humiliated as at the moment when, sending for the\ncommissionaire, she heard from him the exact account of how he had\nwaited, and how afterwards he had been told there was no answer. Anna\nfelt humiliated, insulted, but she saw that from her point of view\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna was right. Her suffering was the more poignant\nthat she had to bear it in solitude. She could not and would not share\nit with Vronsky. She knew that to him, although he was the primary cause\nof her distress, the question of her seeing her son would seem a matter\nof very little consequence. She knew that he would never be capable of\nunderstanding all the depth of her suffering, that for his cool tone at\nany allusion to it she would begin to hate him. And she dreaded that\nmore than anything in the world, and so she hid from him everything that\nrelated to her son. Spending the whole day at home she considered ways\nof seeing her son, and had reached a decision to write to her husband.\nShe was just composing this letter when she was handed the letter from\nLidia Ivanovna. The countess's silence had subdued and depressed her,\nbut the letter, all that she read between the lines in it, so\nexasperated her, this malice was so revolting beside her passionate,\nlegitimate tenderness for her son, that she turned against other people\nand left off blaming herself.\n\n\"This coldness--this pretense of feeling!\" she said to herself. \"They\nmust needs insult me and torture the child, and I am to submit to it!\nNot on any consideration! She is worse than I am. I don't lie, anyway.\"\nAnd she decided on the spot that next day, Seryozha's birthday, she\nwould go straight to her husband's house, bribe or deceive the servants,\nbut at any cost see her son and overturn the hideous deception with\nwhich they were encompassing the unhappy child.\n\nShe went to a toy shop, bought toys and thought over a plan of action.\nShe would go early in the morning at eight o'clock, when Alexey\nAlexandrovitch would be certain not to be up. She would have money in\nher hand to give the hall porter and the footman, so that they should\nlet her in, and not raising her veil, she would say that she had come\nfrom Seryozha's godfather to congratulate him, and that she had been\ncharged to leave the toys at his bedside. She had prepared everything\nbut the words she should say to her son. Often as she had dreamed of it,\nshe could never think of anything.\n\nThe next day, at eight o'clock in the morning, Anna got out of a hired\nsledge and rang at the front entrance of her former home.\n\n\"Run and see what's wanted. Some lady,\" said Kapitonitch, who, not yet\ndressed, in his overcoat and galoshes, had peeped out of the window and\nseen a lady in a veil standing close up to the door. His assistant, a\nlad Anna did not know, had no sooner opened the door to her than she\ncame in, and pulling a three-rouble note out of her muff put it\nhurriedly into his hand.\n\n\"Seryozha--Sergey Alexeitch,\" she said, and was going on. Scrutinizing\nthe note, the porter's assistant stopped her at the second glass door.\n\n\"Whom do you want?\" he asked.\n\nShe did not hear his words and made no answer.\n\nNoticing the embarrassment of the unknown lady, Kapitonitch went out to\nher, opened the second door for her, and asked her what she was pleased\nto want.\n\n\"From Prince Skorodumov for Sergey Alexeitch,\" she said.\n\n\"His honor's not up yet,\" said the porter, looking at her attentively.\n\nAnna had not anticipated that the absolutely unchanged hall of the house\nwhere she had lived for nine years would so greatly affect her. Memories\nsweet and painful rose one after another in her heart, and for a moment\nshe forgot what she was here for.\n\n\"Would you kindly wait?\" said Kapitonitch, taking off her fur cloak.\n\nAs he took off the cloak, Kapitonitch glanced at her face, recognized\nher, and made her a low bow in silence.\n\n\"Please walk in, your excellency,\" he said to her.\n\nShe tried to say something, but her voice refused to utter any sound;\nwith a guilty and imploring glance at the old man she went with light,\nswift steps up the stairs. Bent double, and his galoshes catching in the\nsteps, Kapitonitch ran after her, trying to overtake her.\n\n\"The tutor's there; maybe he's not dressed. I'll let him know.\"\n\nAnna still mounted the familiar staircase, not understanding what the\nold man was saying.\n\n\"This way, to the left, if you please. Excuse its not being tidy. His\nhonor's in the old parlor now,\" the hall porter said, panting. \"Excuse\nme, wait a little, your excellency; I'll just see,\" he said, and\novertaking her, he opened the high door and disappeared behind it. Anna\nstood still waiting. \"He's only just awake,\" said the hall porter,\ncoming out. And at the very instant the porter said this, Anna caught\nthe sound of a childish yawn. From the sound of this yawn alone she knew\nher son and seemed to see him living before her eyes.\n\n\"Let me in; go away!\" she said, and went in through the high doorway. On\nthe right of the door stood a bed, and sitting up in the bed was the\nboy. His little body bent forward with his nightshirt unbuttoned, he was\nstretching and still yawning. The instant his lips came together they\ncurved into a blissfully sleepy smile, and with that smile he slowly and\ndeliciously rolled back again.\n\n\"Seryozha!\" she whispered, going noiselessly up to him.\n\nWhen she was parted from him, and all this latter time when she had been\nfeeling a fresh rush of love for him, she had pictured him as he was at\nfour years old, when she had loved him most of all. Now he was not even\nthe same as when she had left him; he was still further from the\nfour-year-old baby, more grown and thinner. How thin his face was, how\nshort his hair was! What long hands! How he had changed since she left\nhim! But it was he with his head, his lips, his soft neck and broad\nlittle shoulders.\n\n\"Seryozha!\" she repeated just in the child's ear.\n\nHe raised himself again on his elbow, turned his tangled head from side\nto side as though looking for something, and opened his eyes. Slowly and\ninquiringly he looked for several seconds at his mother standing\nmotionless before him, then all at once he smiled a blissful smile, and\nshutting his eyes, rolled not backwards but towards her into her arms.\n\n\"Seryozha! my darling boy!\" she said, breathing hard and putting her\narms round his plump little body. \"Mother!\" he said, wriggling about in\nher arms so as to touch her hands with different parts of him.\n\nSmiling sleepily still with closed eyes, he flung fat little arms round\nher shoulders, rolled towards her, with the delicious sleepy warmth and\nfragrance that is only found in children, and began rubbing his face\nagainst her neck and shoulders.\n\n\"I know,\" he said, opening his eyes; \"it's my birthday today. I knew\nyou'd come. I'll get up directly.\"\n\nAnd saying that he dropped asleep.\n\nAnna looked at him hungrily; she saw how he had grown and changed in her\nabsence. She knew, and did not know, the bare legs so long now, that\nwere thrust out below the quilt, those short-cropped curls on his neck\nin which she had so often kissed him. She touched all this and could say\nnothing; tears choked her.\n\n\"What are you crying for, mother?\" he said, waking completely up.\n\"Mother, what are you crying for?\" he cried in a tearful voice.\n\n\"I won't cry ... I'm crying for joy. It's so long since I've seen you. I\nwon't, I won't,\" she said, gulping down her tears and turning away.\n\"Come, it's time for you to dress now,\" she added, after a pause, and,\nnever letting go his hands, she sat down by his bedside on the chair,\nwhere his clothes were put ready for him.\n\n\"How do you dress without me? How...\" she tried to begin talking simply\nand cheerfully, but she could not, and again she turned away.\n\n\"I don't have a cold bath, papa didn't order it. And you've not seen\nVassily Lukitch? He'll come in soon. Why, you're sitting on my clothes!\"\n\nAnd Seryozha went off into a peal of laughter. She looked at him and\nsmiled.\n\n\"Mother, darling, sweet one!\" he shouted, flinging himself on her again\nand hugging her. It was as though only now, on seeing her smile, he\nfully grasped what had happened.\n\n\"I don't want that on,\" he said, taking off her hat. And as it were,\nseeing her afresh without her hat, he fell to kissing her again.\n\n\"But what did you think about me? You didn't think I was dead?\"\n\n\"I never believed it.\"\n\n\"You didn't believe it, my sweet?\"\n\n\"I knew, I knew!\" he repeated his favorite phrase, and snatching the\nhand that was stroking his hair, he pressed the open palm to his mouth\nand kissed it.\n\n\n\nChapter 30\n\n\nMeanwhile Vassily Lukitch had not at first understood who this lady was,\nand had learned from their conversation that it was no other person than\nthe mother who had left her husband, and whom he had not seen, as he had\nentered the house after her departure. He was in doubt whether to go in\nor not, or whether to communicate with Alexey Alexandrovitch. Reflecting\nfinally that his duty was to get Seryozha up at the hour fixed, and that\nit was therefore not his business to consider who was there, the mother\nor anyone else, but simply to do his duty, he finished dressing, went to\nthe door and opened it.\n\nBut the embraces of the mother and child, the sound of their voices, and\nwhat they were saying, made him change his mind.\n\nHe shook his head, and with a sigh he closed the door. \"I'll wait\nanother ten minutes,\" he said to himself, clearing his throat and wiping\naway tears.\n\nAmong the servants of the household there was intense excitement all\nthis time. All had heard that their mistress had come, and that\nKapitonitch had let her in, and that she was even now in the nursery,\nand that their master always went in person to the nursery at nine\no'clock, and every one fully comprehended that it was impossible for the\nhusband and wife to meet, and that they must prevent it. Korney, the\nvalet, going down to the hall porter's room, asked who had let her in,\nand how it was he had done so, and ascertaining that Kapitonitch had\nadmitted her and shown her up, he gave the old man a talking-to. The\nhall porter was doggedly silent, but when Korney told him he ought to be\nsent away, Kapitonitch darted up to him, and waving his hands in\nKorney's face, began:\n\n\"Oh yes, to be sure you'd not have let her in! After ten years' service,\nand never a word but of kindness, and there you'd up and say, 'Be off,\ngo along, get away with you!' Oh yes, you're a shrewd one at politics, I\ndare say! You don't need to be taught how to swindle the master, and to\nfilch fur coats!\"\n\n\"Soldier!\" said Korney contemptuously, and he turned to the nurse who\nwas coming in. \"Here, what do you think, Marya Efimovna: he let her in\nwithout a word to anyone,\" Korney said addressing her. \"Alexey\nAlexandrovitch will be down immediately--and go into the nursery!\"\n\n\"A pretty business, a pretty business!\" said the nurse. \"You, Korney\nVassilievitch, you'd best keep him some way or other, the master, while\nI'll run and get her away somehow. A pretty business!\"\n\nWhen the nurse went into the nursery, Seryozha was telling his mother\nhow he and Nadinka had had a fall in sledging downhill, and had turned\nover three times. She was listening to the sound of his voice, watching\nhis face and the play of expression on it, touching his hand, but she\ndid not follow what he was saying. She must go, she must leave\nhim,--this was the only thing she was thinking and feeling. She heard\nthe steps of Vassily Lukitch coming up to the door and coughing; she\nheard, too, the steps of the nurse as she came near; but she sat like\none turned to stone, incapable of beginning to speak or to get up.\n\n\"Mistress, darling!\" began the nurse, going up to Anna and kissing her\nhands and shoulders. \"God has brought joy indeed to our boy on his\nbirthday. You aren't changed one bit.\"\n\n\"Oh, nurse dear, I didn't know you were in the house,\" said Anna,\nrousing herself for a moment.\n\n\"I'm not living here, I'm living with my daughter. I came for the\nbirthday, Anna Arkadyevna, darling!\"\n\nThe nurse suddenly burst into tears, and began kissing her hand again.\n\nSeryozha, with radiant eyes and smiles, holding his mother by one hand\nand his nurse by the other, pattered on the rug with his fat little bare\nfeet. The tenderness shown by his beloved nurse to his mother threw him\ninto an ecstasy.\n\n\"Mother! She often comes to see me, and when she comes...\" he was\nbeginning, but he stopped, noticing that the nurse was saying something\nin a whisper to his mother, and that in his mother's face there was a\nlook of dread and something like shame, which was so strangely\nunbecoming to her.\n\nShe went up to him.\n\n\"My sweet!\" she said.\n\nShe could not say _good-bye_, but the expression on her face said it,\nand he understood. \"Darling, darling Kootik!\" she used the name by which\nshe had called him when he was little, \"you won't forget me? You...\" but\nshe could not say more.\n\nHow often afterwards she thought of words she might have said. But now\nshe did not know how to say it, and could say nothing. But Seryozha knew\nall she wanted to say to him. He understood that she was unhappy and\nloved him. He understood even what the nurse had whispered. He had\ncaught the words \"always at nine o'clock,\" and he knew that this was\nsaid of his father, and that his father and mother could not meet. That\nhe understood, but one thing he could not understand--why there should\nbe a look of dread and shame in her face?... She was not in fault, but\nshe was afraid of him and ashamed of something. He would have liked to\nput a question that would have set at rest this doubt, but he did not\ndare; he saw that she was miserable, and he felt for her. Silently he\npressed close to her and whispered, \"Don't go yet. He won't come just\nyet.\"\n\nThe mother held him away from her to see what he was thinking, what to\nsay to him, and in his frightened face she read not only that he was\nspeaking of his father, but, as it were, asking her what he ought to\nthink about his father.\n\n\"Seryozha, my darling,\" she said, \"love him; he's better and kinder than\nI am, and I have done him wrong. When you grow up you will judge.\"\n\n\"There's no one better than you!...\" he cried in despair through his\ntears, and, clutching her by the shoulders, he began squeezing her with\nall his force to him, his arms trembling with the strain.\n\n\"My sweet, my little one!\" said Anna, and she cried as weakly and\nchildishly as he.\n\nAt that moment the door opened. Vassily Lukitch came in.\n\nAt the other door there was the sound of steps, and the nurse in a\nscared whisper said, \"He's coming,\" and gave Anna her hat.\n\nSeryozha sank onto the bed and sobbed, hiding his face in his hands.\nAnna removed his hands, once more kissed his wet face, and with rapid\nsteps went to the door. Alexey Alexandrovitch walked in, meeting her.\nSeeing her, he stopped short and bowed his head.\n\nAlthough she had just said he was better and kinder than she, in the\nrapid glance she flung at him, taking in his whole figure in all its\ndetails, feelings of repulsion and hatred for him and jealousy over her\nson took possession of her. With a swift gesture she put down her veil,\nand, quickening her pace, almost ran out of the room.\n\nShe had not time to undo, and so carried back with her, the parcel of\ntoys she had chosen the day before in a toy shop with such love and\nsorrow.\n\n\n\nChapter 31\n\n\nAs intensely as Anna had longed to see her son, and long as she had been\nthinking of it and preparing herself for it, she had not in the least\nexpected that seeing him would affect her so deeply. On getting back to\nher lonely rooms in the hotel she could not for a long while understand\nwhy she was there. \"Yes, it's all over, and I am again alone,\" she said\nto herself, and without taking off her hat she sat down in a low chair\nby the hearth. Fixing her eyes on a bronze clock standing on a table\nbetween the windows, she tried to think.\n\nThe French maid brought from abroad came in to suggest she should dress.\nShe gazed at her wonderingly and said, \"Presently.\" A footman offered\nher coffee. \"Later on,\" she said.\n\nThe Italian nurse, after having taken the baby out in her best, came in\nwith her, and brought her to Anna. The plump, well-fed little baby, on\nseeing her mother, as she always did, held out her fat little hands, and\nwith a smile on her toothless mouth, began, like a fish with a float,\nbobbing her fingers up and down the starched folds of her embroidered\nskirt, making them rustle. It was impossible not to smile, not to kiss\nthe baby, impossible not to hold out a finger for her to clutch, crowing\nand prancing all over; impossible not to offer her a lip which she\nsucked into her little mouth by way of a kiss. And all this Anna did,\nand took her in her arms and made her dance, and kissed her fresh little\ncheek and bare little elbows; but at the sight of this child it was\nplainer than ever to her that the feeling she had for her could not be\ncalled love in comparison with what she felt for Seryozha. Everything in\nthis baby was charming, but for some reason all this did not go deep to\nher heart. On her first child, though the child of an unloved father,\nhad been concentrated all the love that had never found satisfaction.\nHer baby girl had been born in the most painful circumstances and had\nnot had a hundredth part of the care and thought which had been\nconcentrated on her first child. Besides, in the little girl everything\nwas still in the future, while Seryozha was by now almost a personality,\nand a personality dearly loved. In him there was a conflict of thought\nand feeling; he understood her, he loved her, he judged her, she\nthought, recalling his words and his eyes. And she was forever--not\nphysically only but spiritually--divided from him, and it was impossible\nto set this right.\n\nShe gave the baby back to the nurse, let her go, and opened the locket\nin which there was Seryozha's portrait when he was almost of the same\nage as the girl. She got up, and, taking off her hat, took up from a\nlittle table an album in which there were photographs of her son at\ndifferent ages. She wanted to compare them, and began taking them out of\nthe album. She took them all out except one, the latest and best\nphotograph. In it he was in a white smock, sitting astride a chair, with\nfrowning eyes and smiling lips. It was his best, most characteristic\nexpression. With her little supple hands, her white, delicate fingers,\nthat moved with a peculiar intensity today, she pulled at a corner of\nthe photograph, but the photograph had caught somewhere, and she could\nnot get it out. There was no paper knife on the table, and so, pulling\nout the photograph that was next to her son's (it was a photograph of\nVronsky taken at Rome in a round hat and with long hair), she used it to\npush out her son's photograph. \"Oh, here is he!\" she said, glancing at\nthe portrait of Vronsky, and she suddenly recalled that he was the cause\nof her present misery. She had not once thought of him all the morning.\nBut now, coming all at once upon that manly, noble face, so familiar and\nso dear to her, she felt a sudden rush of love for him.\n\n\"But where is he? How is it he leaves me alone in my misery?\" she\nthought all at once with a feeling of reproach, forgetting she had\nherself kept from him everything concerning her son. She sent to ask him\nto come to her immediately; with a throbbing heart she awaited him,\nrehearsing to herself the words in which she would tell him all, and the\nexpressions of love with which he would console her. The messenger\nreturned with the answer that he had a visitor with him, but that he\nwould come immediately, and that he asked whether she would let him\nbring with him Prince Yashvin, who had just arrived in Petersburg. \"He's\nnot coming alone, and since dinner yesterday he has not seen me,\" she\nthought; \"he's not coming so that I could tell him everything, but\ncoming with Yashvin.\" And all at once a strange idea came to her: what\nif he had ceased to love her?\n\nAnd going over the events of the last few days, it seemed to her that\nshe saw in everything a confirmation of this terrible idea. The fact\nthat he had not dined at home yesterday, and the fact that he had\ninsisted on their taking separate sets of rooms in Petersburg, and that\neven now he was not coming to her alone, as though he were trying to\navoid meeting her face to face.\n\n\"But he ought to tell me so. I must know that it is so. If I knew it,\nthen I know what I should do,\" she said to herself, utterly unable to\npicture to herself the position she would be in if she were convinced of\nhis not caring for her. She thought he had ceased to love her, she felt\nclose upon despair, and consequently she felt exceptionally alert. She\nrang for her maid and went to her dressing room. As she dressed, she\ntook more care over her appearance than she had done all those days, as\nthough he might, if he had grown cold to her, fall in love with her\nagain because she had dressed and arranged her hair in the way most\nbecoming to her.\n\nShe heard the bell ring before she was ready. When she went into the\ndrawing room it was not he, but Yashvin, who met her eyes. Vronsky was\nlooking through the photographs of her son, which she had forgotten on\nthe table, and he made no haste to look round at her.\n\n\"We have met already,\" she said, putting her little hand into the huge\nhand of Yashvin, whose bashfulness was so queerly out of keeping with\nhis immense frame and coarse face. \"We met last year at the races. Give\nthem to me,\" she said, with a rapid movement snatching from Vronsky the\nphotographs of her son, and glancing significantly at him with flashing\neyes. \"Were the races good this year? Instead of them I saw the races in\nthe Corso in Rome. But you don't care for life abroad,\" she said with a\ncordial smile. \"I know you and all your tastes, though I have seen so\nlittle of you.\"\n\n\"I'm awfully sorry for that, for my tastes are mostly bad,\" said\nYashvin, gnawing at his left mustache.\n\nHaving talked a little while, and noticing that Vronsky glanced at the\nclock, Yashvin asked her whether she would be staying much longer in\nPetersburg, and unbending his huge figure reached after his cap.\n\n\"Not long, I think,\" she said hesitatingly, glancing at Vronsky.\n\n\"So then we shan't meet again?\"\n\n\"Come and dine with me,\" said Anna resolutely, angry it seemed with\nherself for her embarrassment, but flushing as she always did when she\ndefined her position before a fresh person. \"The dinner here is not\ngood, but at least you will see him. There is no one of his old friends\nin the regiment Alexey cares for as he does for you.\"\n\n\"Delighted,\" said Yashvin with a smile, from which Vronsky could see\nthat he liked Anna very much.\n\nYashvin said good-bye and went away; Vronsky stayed behind.\n\n\"Are you going too?\" she said to him.\n\n\"I'm late already,\" he answered. \"Run along! I'll catch you up in a\nmoment,\" he called to Yashvin.\n\nShe took him by the hand, and without taking her eyes off him, gazed at\nhim while she ransacked her mind for the words to say that would keep\nhim.\n\n\"Wait a minute, there's something I want to say to you,\" and taking his\nbroad hand she pressed it on her neck. \"Oh, was it right my asking him\nto dinner?\"\n\n\"You did quite right,\" he said with a serene smile that showed his even\nteeth, and he kissed her hand.\n\n\"Alexey, you have not changed to me?\" she said, pressing his hand in\nboth of hers. \"Alexey, I am miserable here. When are we going away?\"\n\n\"Soon, soon. You wouldn't believe how disagreeable our way of living\nhere is to me too,\" he said, and he drew away his hand.\n\n\"Well, go, go!\" she said in a tone of offense, and she walked quickly\naway from him.\n\n\n\nChapter 32\n\n\nWhen Vronsky returned home, Anna was not yet home. Soon after he had\nleft, some lady, so they told him, had come to see her, and she had gone\nout with her. That she had gone out without leaving word where she was\ngoing, that she had not yet come back, and that all the morning she had\nbeen going about somewhere without a word to him--all this, together\nwith the strange look of excitement in her face in the morning, and the\nrecollection of the hostile tone with which she had before Yashvin\nalmost snatched her son's photographs out of his hands, made him\nserious. He decided he absolutely must speak openly with her. And he\nwaited for her in her drawing room. But Anna did not return alone, but\nbrought with her her old unmarried aunt, Princess Oblonskaya. This was\nthe lady who had come in the morning, and with whom Anna had gone out\nshopping. Anna appeared not to notice Vronsky's worried and inquiring\nexpression, and began a lively account of her morning's shopping. He saw\nthat there was something working within her; in her flashing eyes, when\nthey rested for a moment on him, there was an intense concentration, and\nin her words and movements there was that nervous rapidity and grace\nwhich, during the early period of their intimacy, had so fascinated him,\nbut which now so disturbed and alarmed him.\n\nThe dinner was laid for four. All were gathered together and about to go\ninto the little dining room when Tushkevitch made his appearance with a\nmessage from Princess Betsy. Princess Betsy begged her to excuse her not\nhaving come to say good-bye; she had been indisposed, but begged Anna to\ncome to her between half-past six and nine o'clock. Vronsky glanced at\nAnna at the precise limit of time, so suggestive of steps having been\ntaken that she should meet no one; but Anna appeared not to notice it.\n\n\"Very sorry that I can't come just between half-past six and nine,\" she\nsaid with a faint smile.\n\n\"The princess will be very sorry.\"\n\n\"And so am I.\"\n\n\"You're going, no doubt, to hear Patti?\" said Tushkevitch.\n\n\"Patti? You suggest the idea to me. I would go if it were possible to\nget a box.\"\n\n\"I can get one,\" Tushkevitch offered his services.\n\n\"I should be very, very grateful to you,\" said Anna. \"But won't you dine\nwith us?\"\n\nVronsky gave a hardly perceptible shrug. He was at a complete loss to\nunderstand what Anna was about. What had she brought the old Princess\nOblonskaya home for, what had she made Tushkevitch stay to dinner for,\nand, most amazing of all, why was she sending him for a box? Could she\npossibly think in her position of going to Patti's benefit, where all\nthe circle of her acquaintances would be? He looked at her with serious\neyes, but she responded with that defiant, half-mirthful, half-desperate\nlook, the meaning of which he could not comprehend. At dinner Anna was\nin aggressively high spirits--she almost flirted both with Tushkevitch\nand with Yashvin. When they got up from dinner and Tushkevitch had gone\nto get a box at the opera, Yashvin went to smoke, and Vronsky went down\nwith him to his own rooms. After sitting there for some time he ran\nupstairs. Anna was already dressed in a low-necked gown of light silk\nand velvet that she had had made in Paris, and with costly white lace on\nher head, framing her face, and particularly becoming, showing up her\ndazzling beauty.\n\n\"Are you really going to the theater?\" he said, trying not to look at\nher.\n\n\"Why do you ask with such alarm?\" she said, wounded again at his not\nlooking at her. \"Why shouldn't I go?\"\n\nShe appeared not to understand the motive of his words.\n\n\"Oh, of course, there's no reason whatever,\" he said, frowning.\n\n\"That's just what I say,\" she said, willfully refusing to see the irony\nof his tone, and quietly turning back her long, perfumed glove.\n\n\"Anna, for God's sake! what is the matter with you?\" he said, appealing\nto her exactly as once her husband had done.\n\n\"I don't understand what you are asking.\"\n\n\"You know that it's out of the question to go.\"\n\n\"Why so? I'm not going alone. Princess Varvara has gone to dress, she is\ngoing with me.\"\n\nHe shrugged his shoulders with an air of perplexity and despair.\n\n\"But do you mean to say you don't know?...\" he began.\n\n\"But I don't care to know!\" she almost shrieked. \"I don't care to. Do I\nregret what I have done? No, no, no! If it were all to do again from the\nbeginning, it would be the same. For us, for you and for me, there is\nonly one thing that matters, whether we love each other. Other people we\nneed not consider. Why are we living here apart and not seeing each\nother? Why can't I go? I love you, and I don't care for anything,\" she\nsaid in Russian, glancing at him with a peculiar gleam in her eyes that\nhe could not understand. \"If you have not changed to me, why don't you\nlook at me?\"\n\nHe looked at her. He saw all the beauty of her face and full dress,\nalways so becoming to her. But now her beauty and elegance were just\nwhat irritated him.\n\n\"My feeling cannot change, you know, but I beg you, I entreat you,\" he\nsaid again in French, with a note of tender supplication in his voice,\nbut with coldness in his eyes.\n\nShe did not hear his words, but she saw the coldness of his eyes, and\nanswered with irritation:\n\n\"And I beg you to explain why I should not go.\"\n\n\"Because it might cause you...\" he hesitated.\n\n\"I don't understand. Yashvin _n'est pas compromettant_, and Princess\nVarvara is no worse than others. Oh, here she is!\"\n\n\n\nChapter 33\n\n\nVronsky for the first time experienced a feeling of anger against Anna,\nalmost a hatred for her willfully refusing to understand her own\nposition. This feeling was aggravated by his being unable to tell her\nplainly the cause of his anger. If he had told her directly what he was\nthinking, he would have said:\n\n\"In that dress, with a princess only too well known to everyone, to show\nyourself at the theater is equivalent not merely to acknowledging your\nposition as a fallen woman, but is flinging down a challenge to society,\nthat is to say, cutting yourself off from it forever.\"\n\nHe could not say that to her. \"But how can she fail to see it, and what\nis going on in her?\" he said to himself. He felt at the same time that\nhis respect for her was diminished while his sense of her beauty was\nintensified.\n\nHe went back scowling to his rooms, and sitting down beside Yashvin,\nwho, with his long legs stretched out on a chair, was drinking brandy\nand seltzer water, he ordered a glass of the same for himself.\n\n\"You were talking of Lankovsky's Powerful. That's a fine horse, and I\nwould advise you to buy him,\" said Yashvin, glancing at his comrade's\ngloomy face. \"His hind-quarters aren't quite first-rate, but the legs\nand head--one couldn't wish for anything better.\"\n\n\"I think I will take him,\" answered Vronsky.\n\nTheir conversation about horses interested him, but he did not for an\ninstant forget Anna, and could not help listening to the sound of steps\nin the corridor and looking at the clock on the chimney piece.\n\n\"Anna Arkadyevna gave orders to announce that she has gone to the\ntheater.\"\n\nYashvin, tipping another glass of brandy into the bubbling water, drank\nit and got up, buttoning his coat.\n\n\"Well, let's go,\" he said, faintly smiling under his mustache, and\nshowing by this smile that he knew the cause of Vronsky's gloominess,\nand did not attach any significance to it.\n\n\"I'm not going,\" Vronsky answered gloomily.\n\n\"Well, I must, I promised to. Good-bye, then. If you do, come to the\nstalls; you can take Kruzin's stall,\" added Yashvin as he went out.\n\n\"No, I'm busy.\"\n\n\"A wife is a care, but it's worse when she's not a wife,\" thought\nYashvin, as he walked out of the hotel.\n\nVronsky, left alone, got up from his chair and began pacing up and down\nthe room.\n\n\"And what's today? The fourth night.... Yegor and his wife are there,\nand my mother, most likely. Of course all Petersburg's there. Now she's\ngone in, taken off her cloak and come into the light. Tushkevitch,\nYashvin, Princess Varvara,\" he pictured them to himself.... \"What about\nme? Either that I'm frightened or have given up to Tushkevitch the right\nto protect her? From every point of view--stupid, stupid!... And why is\nshe putting me in such a position?\" he said with a gesture of despair.\n\nWith that gesture he knocked against the table, on which there was\nstanding the seltzer water and the decanter of brandy, and almost upset\nit. He tried to catch it, let it slip, and angrily kicked the table over\nand rang.\n\n\"If you care to be in my service,\" he said to the valet who came in,\n\"you had better remember your duties. This shouldn't be here. You ought\nto have cleared away.\"\n\nThe valet, conscious of his own innocence, would have defended himself,\nbut glancing at his master, he saw from his face that the only thing to\ndo was to be silent, and hurriedly threading his way in and out, dropped\ndown on the carpet and began gathering up the whole and broken glasses\nand bottles.\n\n\"That's not your duty; send the waiter to clear away, and get my dress\ncoat out.\"\n\nVronsky went into the theater at half-past eight. The performance was in\nfull swing. The little old box-keeper, recognizing Vronsky as he helped\nhim off with his fur coat, called him \"Your Excellency,\" and suggested\nhe should not take a number but should simply call Fyodor. In the\nbrightly lighted corridor there was no one but the box-opener and two\nattendants with fur cloaks on their arms listening at the doors. Through\nthe closed doors came the sounds of the discreet _staccato_\naccompaniment of the orchestra, and a single female voice rendering\ndistinctly a musical phrase. The door opened to let the box-opener slip\nthrough, and the phrase drawing to the end reached Vronsky's hearing\nclearly. But the doors were closed again at once, and Vronsky did not\nhear the end of the phrase and the cadence of the accompaniment, though\nhe knew from the thunder of applause that it was over. When he entered\nthe hall, brilliantly lighted with chandeliers and gas jets, the noise\nwas still going on. On the stage the singer, bowing and smiling, with\nbare shoulders flashing with diamonds, was, with the help of the tenor\nwho had given her his arm, gathering up the bouquets that were flying\nawkwardly over the footlights. Then she went up to a gentleman with\nglossy pomaded hair parted down the center, who was stretching across\nthe footlights holding out something to her, and all the public in the\nstalls as well as in the boxes was in excitement, craning forward,\nshouting and clapping. The conductor in his high chair assisted in\npassing the offering, and straightened his white tie. Vronsky walked\ninto the middle of the stalls, and, standing still, began looking about\nhim. That day less than ever was his attention turned upon the familiar,\nhabitual surroundings, the stage, the noise, all the familiar,\nuninteresting, particolored herd of spectators in the packed theater.\n\nThere were, as always, the same ladies of some sort with officers of\nsome sort in the back of the boxes; the same gaily dressed women--God\nknows who--and uniforms and black coats; the same dirty crowd in the\nupper gallery; and among the crowd, in the boxes and in the front rows,\nwere some forty of the _real_ people. And to those oases Vronsky at once\ndirected his attention, and with them he entered at once into relation.\n\nThe act was over when he went in, and so he did not go straight to his\nbrother's box, but going up to the first row of stalls stopped at the\nfootlights with Serpuhovskoy, who, standing with one knee raised and his\nheel on the footlights, caught sight of him in the distance and beckoned\nto him, smiling.\n\nVronsky had not yet seen Anna. He purposely avoided looking in her\ndirection. But he knew by the direction of people's eyes where she was.\nHe looked round discreetly, but he was not seeking her; expecting the\nworst, his eyes sought for Alexey Alexandrovitch. To his relief Alexey\nAlexandrovitch was not in the theater that evening.\n\n\"How little of the military man there is left in you!\" Serpuhovskoy was\nsaying to him. \"A diplomat, an artist, something of that sort, one would\nsay.\"\n\n\"Yes, it was like going back home when I put on a black coat,\" answered\nVronsky, smiling and slowly taking out his opera glass.\n\n\"Well, I'll own I envy you there. When I come back from abroad and put\non this,\" he touched his epaulets, \"I regret my freedom.\"\n\nSerpuhovskoy had long given up all hope of Vronsky's career, but he\nliked him as before, and was now particularly cordial to him.\n\n\"What a pity you were not in time for the first act!\"\n\nVronsky, listening with one ear, moved his opera glass from the stalls\nand scanned the boxes. Near a lady in a turban and a bald old man, who\nseemed to wave angrily in the moving opera glass, Vronsky suddenly\ncaught sight of Anna's head, proud, strikingly beautiful, and smiling in\nthe frame of lace. She was in the fifth box, twenty paces from him. She\nwas sitting in front, and slightly turning, was saying something to\nYashvin. The setting of her head on her handsome, broad shoulders, and\nthe restrained excitement and brilliance of her eyes and her whole face\nreminded him of her just as he had seen her at the ball in Moscow. But\nhe felt utterly different towards her beauty now. In his feeling for her\nnow there was no element of mystery, and so her beauty, though it\nattracted him even more intensely than before, gave him now a sense of\ninjury. She was not looking in his direction, but Vronsky felt that she\nhad seen him already.\n\nWhen Vronsky turned the opera glass again in that direction, he noticed\nthat Princess Varvara was particularly red, and kept laughing\nunnaturally and looking round at the next box. Anna, folding her fan and\ntapping it on the red velvet, was gazing away and did not see, and\nobviously did not wish to see, what was taking place in the next box.\nYashvin's face wore the expression which was common when he was losing\nat cards. Scowling, he sucked the left end of his mustache further and\nfurther into his mouth, and cast sidelong glances at the next box.\n\nIn that box on the left were the Kartasovs. Vronsky knew them, and knew\nthat Anna was acquainted with them. Madame Kartasova, a thin little\nwoman, was standing up in her box, and, her back turned upon Anna, she\nwas putting on a mantle that her husband was holding for her. Her face\nwas pale and angry, and she was talking excitedly. Kartasov, a fat, bald\nman, was continually looking round at Anna, while he attempted to soothe\nhis wife. When the wife had gone out, the husband lingered a long while,\nand tried to catch Anna's eye, obviously anxious to bow to her. But\nAnna, with unmistakable intention, avoided noticing him, and talked to\nYashvin, whose cropped head was bent down to her. Kartasov went out\nwithout making his salutation, and the box was left empty.\n\nVronsky could not understand exactly what had passed between the\nKartasovs and Anna, but he saw that something humiliating for Anna had\nhappened. He knew this both from what he had seen, and most of all from\nthe face of Anna, who, he could see, was taxing every nerve to carry\nthrough the part she had taken up. And in maintaining this attitude of\nexternal composure she was completely successful. Anyone who did not\nknow her and her circle, who had not heard all the utterances of the\nwomen expressive of commiseration, indignation, and amazement, that she\nshould show herself in society, and show herself so conspicuously with\nher lace and her beauty, would have admired the serenity and loveliness\nof this woman without a suspicion that she was undergoing the sensations\nof a man in the stocks.\n\nKnowing that something had happened, but not knowing precisely what,\nVronsky felt a thrill of agonizing anxiety, and hoping to find out\nsomething, he went towards his brother's box. Purposely choosing the way\nround furthest from Anna's box, he jostled as he came out against the\ncolonel of his old regiment talking to two acquaintances. Vronsky heard\nthe name of Madame Karenina, and noticed how the colonel hastened to\naddress Vronsky loudly by name, with a meaning glance at his companions.\n\n\"Ah, Vronsky! When are you coming to the regiment? We can't let you off\nwithout a supper. You're one of the old set,\" said the colonel of his\nregiment.\n\n\"I can't stop, awfully sorry, another time,\" said Vronsky, and he ran\nupstairs towards his brother's box.\n\nThe old countess, Vronsky's mother, with her steel-gray curls, was in\nhis brother's box. Varya with the young Princess Sorokina met him in the\ncorridor.\n\nLeaving the Princess Sorokina with her mother, Varya held out her hand\nto her brother-in-law, and began immediately to speak of what interested\nhim. She was more excited than he had ever seen her.\n\n\"I think it's mean and hateful, and Madame Kartasova had no right to do\nit. Madame Karenina...\" she began.\n\n\"But what is it? I don't know.\"\n\n\"What? you've not heard?\"\n\n\"You know I should be the last person to hear of it.\"\n\n\"There isn't a more spiteful creature than that Madame Kartasova!\"\n\n\"But what did she do?\"\n\n\"My husband told me.... She has insulted Madame Karenina. Her husband\nbegan talking to her across the box, and Madame Kartasova made a scene.\nShe said something aloud, he says, something insulting, and went away.\"\n\n\"Count, your maman is asking for you,\" said the young Princess Sorokina,\npeeping out of the door of the box.\n\n\"I've been expecting you all the while,\" said his mother, smiling\nsarcastically. \"You were nowhere to be seen.\"\n\nHer son saw that she could not suppress a smile of delight.\n\n\"Good evening, maman. I have come to you,\" he said coldly.\n\n\"Why aren't you going to _faire la cour a Madame Karenina?_\" she went\non, when Princess Sorokina had moved away. \"_Elle fait sensation. On\noublie la Patti pour elle_.\"\n\n\"Maman, I have asked you not to say anything to me of that,\" he\nanswered, scowling.\n\n\"I'm only saying what everyone's saying.\"\n\nVronsky made no reply, and saying a few words to Princess Sorokina, he\nwent away. At the door he met his brother.\n\n\"Ah, Alexey!\" said his brother. \"How disgusting! Idiot of a woman,\nnothing else.... I wanted to go straight to her. Let's go together.\"\n\nVronsky did not hear him. With rapid steps he went downstairs; he felt\nthat he must do something, but he did not know what. Anger with her for\nhaving put herself and him in such a false position, together with pity\nfor her suffering, filled his heart. He went down, and made straight for\nAnna's box. At her box stood Stremov, talking to her.\n\n\"There are no more tenors. _Le moule en est brise!_\"\n\nVronsky bowed to her and stopped to greet Stremov.\n\n\"You came in late, I think, and have missed the best song,\" Anna said to\nVronsky, glancing ironically, he thought, at him.\n\n\"I am a poor judge of music,\" he said, looking sternly at her.\n\n\"Like Prince Yashvin,\" she said smiling, \"who considers that Patti sings\ntoo loud.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" she said, her little hand in its long glove taking the\nplaybill Vronsky picked up, and suddenly at that instant her lovely face\nquivered. She got up and went into the interior of the box.\n\nNoticing in the next act that her box was empty, Vronsky, rousing\nindignant \"hushes\" in the silent audience, went out in the middle of a\nsolo and drove home.\n\nAnna was already at home. When Vronsky went up to her, she was in the\nsame dress as she had worn at the theater. She was sitting in the first\narmchair against the wall, looking straight before her. She looked at\nhim, and at once resumed her former position.\n\n\"Anna,\" he said.\n\n\"You, you are to blame for everything!\" she cried, with tears of despair\nand hatred in her voice, getting up.\n\n\"I begged, I implored you not to go, I knew it would be unpleasant....\"\n\n\"Unpleasant!\" she cried--\"hideous! As long as I live I shall never\nforget it. She said it was a disgrace to sit beside me.\"\n\n\"A silly woman's chatter,\" he said: \"but why risk it, why provoke?...\"\n\n\"I hate your calm. You ought not to have brought me to this. If you had\nloved me...\"\n\n\"Anna! How does the question of my love come in?\"\n\n\"Oh, if you loved me, as I love, if you were tortured as I am!...\" she\nsaid, looking at him with an expression of terror.\n\nHe was sorry for her, and angry notwithstanding. He assured her of his\nlove because he saw that this was the only means of soothing her, and he\ndid not reproach her in words, but in his heart he reproached her.\n\nAnd the asseverations of his love, which seemed to him so vulgar that he\nwas ashamed to utter them, she drank in eagerly, and gradually became\ncalmer. The next day, completely reconciled, they left for the country.\n\n\n\n\nPART SIX\n\n\n\nChapter 1\n\n\nDarya Alexandrovna spent the summer with her children at Pokrovskoe, at\nher sister Kitty Levin's. The house on her own estate was quite in\nruins, and Levin and his wife had persuaded her to spend the summer with\nthem. Stepan Arkadyevitch greatly approved of the arrangement. He said\nhe was very sorry his official duties prevented him from spending the\nsummer in the country with his family, which would have been the\ngreatest happiness for him; and remaining in Moscow, he came down to the\ncountry from time to time for a day or two. Besides the Oblonskys, with\nall their children and their governess, the old princess too came to\nstay that summer with the Levins, as she considered it her duty to watch\nover her inexperienced daughter in her _interesting condition_.\nMoreover, Varenka, Kitty's friend abroad, kept her promise to come to\nKitty when she was married, and stayed with her friend. All of these\nwere friends or relations of Levin's wife. And though he liked them all,\nhe rather regretted his own Levin world and ways, which was smothered by\nthis influx of the \"Shtcherbatsky element,\" as he called it to himself.\nOf his own relations there stayed with him only Sergey Ivanovitch, but\nhe too was a man of the Koznishev and not the Levin stamp, so that the\nLevin spirit was utterly obliterated.\n\nIn the Levins' house, so long deserted, there were now so many people\nthat almost all the rooms were occupied, and almost every day it\nhappened that the old princess, sitting down to table, counted them all\nover, and put the thirteenth grandson or granddaughter at a separate\ntable. And Kitty, with her careful housekeeping, had no little trouble\nto get all the chickens, turkeys, and geese, of which so many were\nneeded to satisfy the summer appetites of the visitors and children.\n\nThe whole family were sitting at dinner. Dolly's children, with their\ngoverness and Varenka, were making plans for going to look for\nmushrooms. Sergey Ivanovitch, who was looked up to by all the party for\nhis intellect and learning, with a respect that almost amounted to awe,\nsurprised everyone by joining in the conversation about mushrooms.\n\n\"Take me with you. I am very fond of picking mushrooms,\" he said,\nlooking at Varenka; \"I think it's a very nice occupation.\"\n\n\"Oh, we shall be delighted,\" answered Varenka, coloring a little. Kitty\nexchanged meaningful glances with Dolly. The proposal of the learned and\nintellectual Sergey Ivanovitch to go looking for mushrooms with Varenka\nconfirmed certain theories of Kitty's with which her mind had been very\nbusy of late. She made haste to address some remark to her mother, so\nthat her look should not be noticed. After dinner Sergey Ivanovitch sat\nwith his cup of coffee at the drawing-room window, and while he took\npart in a conversation he had begun with his brother, he watched the\ndoor through which the children would start on the mushroom-picking\nexpedition. Levin was sitting in the window near his brother.\n\nKitty stood beside her husband, evidently awaiting the end of a\nconversation that had no interest for her, in order to tell him\nsomething.\n\n\"You have changed in many respects since your marriage, and for the\nbetter,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, smiling to Kitty, and obviously little\ninterested in the conversation, \"but you have remained true to your\npassion for defending the most paradoxical theories.\"\n\n\"Katya, it's not good for you to stand,\" her husband said to her,\nputting a chair for her and looking significantly at her.\n\n\"Oh, and there's no time either,\" added Sergey Ivanovitch, seeing the\nchildren running out.\n\nAt the head of them all Tanya galloped sideways, in her tightly-drawn\nstockings, and waving a basket and Sergey Ivanovitch's hat, she ran\nstraight up to him.\n\nBoldly running up to Sergey Ivanovitch with shining eyes, so like her\nfather's fine eyes, she handed him his hat and made as though she would\nput it on for him, softening her freedom by a shy and friendly smile.\n\n\"Varenka's waiting,\" she said, carefully putting his hat on, seeing from\nSergey Ivanovitch's smile that she might do so.\n\nVarenka was standing at the door, dressed in a yellow print gown, with a\nwhite kerchief on her head.\n\n\"I'm coming, I'm coming, Varvara Andreevna,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch,\nfinishing his cup of coffee, and putting into their separate pockets his\nhandkerchief and cigar-case.\n\n\"And how sweet my Varenka is! eh?\" said Kitty to her husband, as soon as\nSergey Ivanovitch rose. She spoke so that Sergey Ivanovitch could hear,\nand it was clear that she meant him to do so. \"And how good-looking she\nis--such a refined beauty! Varenka!\" Kitty shouted. \"Shall you be in the\nmill copse? We'll come out to you.\"\n\n\"You certainly forget your condition, Kitty,\" said the old princess,\nhurriedly coming out at the door. \"You mustn't shout like that.\"\n\nVarenka, hearing Kitty's voice and her mother's reprimand, went with\nlight, rapid steps up to Kitty. The rapidity of her movement, her\nflushed and eager face, everything betrayed that something out of the\ncommon was going on in her. Kitty knew what this was, and had been\nwatching her intently. She called Varenka at that moment merely in order\nmentally to give her a blessing for the important event which, as Kitty\nfancied, was bound to come to pass that day after dinner in the wood.\n\n\"Varenka, I should be very happy if a certain something were to happen,\"\nshe whispered as she kissed her.\n\n\"And are you coming with us?\" Varenka said to Levin in confusion,\npretending not to have heard what had been said.\n\n\"I am coming, but only as far as the threshing-floor, and there I shall\nstop.\"\n\n\"Why, what do you want there?\" said Kitty.\n\n\"I must go to have a look at the new wagons, and to check the invoice,\"\nsaid Levin; \"and where will you be?\"\n\n\"On the terrace.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\n\nOn the terrace were assembled all the ladies of the party. They always\nliked sitting there after dinner, and that day they had work to do there\ntoo. Besides the sewing and knitting of baby clothes, with which all of\nthem were busy, that afternoon jam was being made on the terrace by a\nmethod new to Agafea Mihalovna, without the addition of water. Kitty had\nintroduced this new method, which had been in use in her home. Agafea\nMihalovna, to whom the task of jam-making had always been intrusted,\nconsidering that what had been done in the Levin household could not be\namiss, had nevertheless put water with the strawberries, maintaining\nthat the jam could not be made without it. She had been caught in the\nact, and was now making jam before everyone, and it was to be proved to\nher conclusively that jam could be very well made without water.\n\nAgafea Mihalovna, her face heated and angry, her hair untidy, and her\nthin arms bare to the elbows, was turning the preserving-pan over the\ncharcoal stove, looking darkly at the raspberries and devoutly hoping\nthey would stick and not cook properly. The princess, conscious that\nAgafea Mihalovna's wrath must be chiefly directed against her, as the\nperson responsible for the raspberry jam-making, tried to appear to be\nabsorbed in other things and not interested in the jam, talked of other\nmatters, but cast stealthy glances in the direction of the stove.\n\n\"I always buy my maids' dresses myself, of some cheap material,\" the\nprincess said, continuing the previous conversation. \"Isn't it time to\nskim it, my dear?\" she added, addressing Agafea Mihalovna. \"There's not\nthe slightest need for you to do it, and it's hot for you,\" she said,\nstopping Kitty.\n\n\"I'll do it,\" said Dolly, and getting up, she carefully passed the spoon\nover the frothing sugar, and from time to time shook off the clinging\njam from the spoon by knocking it on a plate that was covered with\nyellow-red scum and blood-colored syrup. \"How they'll enjoy this at\ntea-time!\" she thought of her children, remembering how she herself as a\nchild had wondered how it was the grown-up people did not eat what was\nbest of all--the scum of the jam.\n\n\"Stiva says it's much better to give money.\" Dolly took up meanwhile the\nweighty subject under discussion, what presents should be made to\nservants. \"But...\"\n\n\"Money's out of the question!\" the princess and Kitty exclaimed with one\nvoice. \"They appreciate a present...\"\n\n\"Well, last year, for instance, I bought our Matrona Semyenovna, not a\npoplin, but something of that sort,\" said the princess.\n\n\"I remember she was wearing it on your nameday.\"\n\n\"A charming pattern--so simple and refined,--I should have liked it\nmyself, if she hadn't had it. Something like Varenka's. So pretty and\ninexpensive.\"\n\n\"Well, now I think it's done,\" said Dolly, dropping the syrup from the\nspoon.\n\n\"When it sets as it drops, it's ready. Cook it a little longer, Agafea\nMihalovna.\"\n\n\"The flies!\" said Agafea Mihalovna angrily. \"It'll be just the same,\"\nshe added.\n\n\"Ah! how sweet it is! don't frighten it!\" Kitty said suddenly, looking\nat a sparrow that had settled on the step and was pecking at the center\nof a raspberry.\n\n\"Yes, but you keep a little further from the stove,\" said her mother.\n\n\"_A propos de Varenka_,\" said Kitty, speaking in French, as they had\nbeen doing all the while, so that Agafea Mihalovna should not understand\nthem, \"you know, mamma, I somehow expect things to be settled today. You\nknow what I mean. How splendid it would be!\"\n\n\"But what a famous matchmaker she is!\" said Dolly. \"How carefully and\ncleverly she throws them together!...\"\n\n\"No; tell me, mamma, what do you think?\"\n\n\"Why, what is one to think? He\" (_he_ meant Sergey Ivanovitch) \"might at\nany time have been a match for anyone in Russia; now, of course, he's\nnot quite a young man, still I know ever so many girls would be glad to\nmarry him even now.... She's a very nice girl, but he might...\"\n\n\"Oh, no, mamma, do understand why, for him and for her too, nothing\nbetter could be imagined. In the first place, she's charming!\" said\nKitty, crooking one of her fingers.\n\n\"He thinks her very attractive, that's certain,\" assented Dolly.\n\n\"Then he occupies such a position in society that he has no need to look\nfor either fortune or position in his wife. All he needs is a good,\nsweet wife--a restful one.\"\n\n\"Well, with her he would certainly be restful,\" Dolly assented.\n\n\"Thirdly, that she should love him. And so it is ... that is, it would\nbe so splendid!... I look forward to seeing them coming out of the\nforest--and everything settled. I shall see at once by their eyes. I\nshould be so delighted! What do you think, Dolly?\"\n\n\"But don't excite yourself. It's not at all the thing for you to be\nexcited,\" said her mother.\n\n\"Oh, I'm not excited, mamma. I fancy he will make her an offer today.\"\n\n\"Ah, that's so strange, how and when a man makes an offer!... There is a\nsort of barrier, and all at once it's broken down,\" said Dolly, smiling\npensively and recalling her past with Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"Mamma, how did papa make you an offer?\" Kitty asked suddenly.\n\n\"There was nothing out of the way, it was very simple,\" answered the\nprincess, but her face beamed all over at the recollection.\n\n\"Oh, but how was it? You loved him, anyway, before you were allowed to\nspeak?\"\n\nKitty felt a peculiar pleasure in being able now to talk to her mother\non equal terms about those questions of such paramount interest in a\nwoman's life.\n\n\"Of course I did; he had come to stay with us in the country.\"\n\n\"But how was it settled between you, mamma?\"\n\n\"You imagine, I dare say, that you invented something quite new? It's\nalways just the same: it was settled by the eyes, by smiles...\"\n\n\"How nicely you said that, mamma! It's just by the eyes, by smiles that\nit's done,\" Dolly assented.\n\n\"But what words did he say?\"\n\n\"What did Kostya say to you?\"\n\n\"He wrote it in chalk. It was wonderful.... How long ago it seems!\" she\nsaid.\n\nAnd the three women all fell to musing on the same thing. Kitty was the\nfirst to break the silence. She remembered all that last winter before\nher marriage, and her passion for Vronsky.\n\n\"There's one thing ... that old love affair of Varenka's,\" she said, a\nnatural chain of ideas bringing her to this point. \"I should have liked\nto say something to Sergey Ivanovitch, to prepare him. They're all--all\nmen, I mean,\" she added, \"awfully jealous over our past.\"\n\n\"Not all,\" said Dolly. \"You judge by your own husband. It makes him\nmiserable even now to remember Vronsky. Eh? that's true, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Kitty answered, a pensive smile in her eyes.\n\n\"But I really don't know,\" the mother put in in defense of her motherly\ncare of her daughter, \"what there was in your past that could worry him?\nThat Vronsky paid you attentions--that happens to every girl.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, but we didn't mean that,\" Kitty said, flushing a little.\n\n\"No, let me speak,\" her mother went on, \"why, you yourself would not let\nme have a talk to Vronsky. Don't you remember?\"\n\n\"Oh, mamma!\" said Kitty, with an expression of suffering.\n\n\"There's no keeping you young people in check nowadays.... Your\nfriendship could not have gone beyond what was suitable. I should myself\nhave called upon him to explain himself. But, my darling, it's not right\nfor you to be agitated. Please remember that, and calm yourself.\"\n\n\"I'm perfectly calm, maman.\"\n\n\"How happy it was for Kitty that Anna came then,\" said Dolly, \"and how\nunhappy for her. It turned out quite the opposite,\" she said, struck by\nher own ideas. \"Then Anna was so happy, and Kitty thought herself\nunhappy. Now it is just the opposite. I often think of her.\"\n\n\"A nice person to think about! Horrid, repulsive woman--no heart,\" said\nher mother, who could not forget that Kitty had married not Vronsky, but\nLevin.\n\n\"What do you want to talk of it for?\" Kitty said with annoyance. \"I\nnever think about it, and I don't want to think of it.... And I don't\nwant to think of it,\" she said, catching the sound of her husband's\nwell-known step on the steps of the terrace.\n\n\"What's that you don't want to think about?\" inquired Levin, coming onto\nthe terrace.\n\nBut no one answered him, and he did not repeat the question.\n\n\"I'm sorry I've broken in on your feminine parliament,\" he said, looking\nround on every one discontentedly, and perceiving that they had been\ntalking of something which they would not talk about before him.\n\nFor a second he felt that he was sharing the feeling of Agafea\nMihalovna, vexation at their making jam without water, and altogether at\nthe outside Shtcherbatsky element. He smiled, however, and went up to\nKitty.\n\n\"Well, how are you?\" he asked her, looking at her with the expression\nwith which everyone looked at her now.\n\n\"Oh, very well,\" said Kitty, smiling, \"and how have things gone with\nyou?\"\n\n\"The wagons held three times as much as the old carts did. Well, are we\ngoing for the children? I've ordered the horses to be put in.\"\n\n\"What! you want to take Kitty in the wagonette?\" her mother said\nreproachfully.\n\n\"Yes, at a walking pace, princess.\"\n\nLevin never called the princess \"maman\" as men often do call their\nmothers-in-law, and the princess disliked his not doing so. But though\nhe liked and respected the princess, Levin could not call her so without\na sense of profaning his feeling for his dead mother.\n\n\"Come with us, maman,\" said Kitty.\n\n\"I don't like to see such imprudence.\"\n\n\"Well, I'll walk then, I'm so well.\" Kitty got up and went to her\nhusband and took his hand.\n\n\"You may be well, but everything in moderation,\" said the princess.\n\n\"Well, Agafea Mihalovna, is the jam done?\" said Levin, smiling to Agafea\nMihalovna, and trying to cheer her up. \"Is it all right in the new way?\"\n\n\"I suppose it's all right. For our notions it's boiled too long.\"\n\n\"It'll be all the better, Agafea Mihalovna, it won't mildew, even though\nour ice has begun to thaw already, so that we've no cool cellar to store\nit,\" said Kitty, at once divining her husband's motive, and addressing\nthe old housekeeper with the same feeling; \"but your pickle's so good,\nthat mamma says she never tasted any like it,\" she added, smiling, and\nputting her kerchief straight.\n\nAgafea Mihalovna looked angrily at Kitty.\n\n\"You needn't try to console me, mistress. I need only to look at you\nwith him, and I feel happy,\" she said, and something in the rough\nfamiliarity of that _with him_ touched Kitty.\n\n\"Come along with us to look for mushrooms, you will show us the best\nplaces.\" Agafea Mihalovna smiled and shook her head, as though to say:\n\"I should like to be angry with you too, but I can't.\"\n\n\"Do it, please, by my receipt,\" said the princess; \"put some paper over\nthe jam, and moisten it with a little rum, and without even ice, it will\nnever go mildewy.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\n\nKitty was particularly glad of a chance of being alone with her husband,\nfor she had noticed the shade of mortification that had passed over his\nface--always so quick to reflect every feeling--at the moment when he\nhad come onto the terrace and asked what they were talking of, and had\ngot no answer.\n\nWhen they had set off on foot ahead of the others, and had come out of\nsight of the house onto the beaten dusty road, marked with rusty wheels\nand sprinkled with grains of corn, she clung faster to his arm and\npressed it closer to her. He had quite forgotten the momentary\nunpleasant impression, and alone with her he felt, now that the thought\nof her approaching motherhood was never for a moment absent from his\nmind, a new and delicious bliss, quite pure from all alloy of sense, in\nthe being near to the woman he loved. There was no need of speech, yet\nhe longed to hear the sound of her voice, which like her eyes had\nchanged since she had been with child. In her voice, as in her eyes,\nthere was that softness and gravity which is found in people continually\nconcentrated on some cherished pursuit.\n\n\"So you're not tired? Lean more on me,\" said he.\n\n\"No, I'm so glad of a chance of being alone with you, and I must own,\nthough I'm happy with them, I do regret our winter evenings alone.\"\n\n\"That was good, but this is even better. Both are better,\" he said,\nsqueezing her hand.\n\n\"Do you know what we were talking about when you came in?\"\n\n\"About jam?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, about jam too; but afterwards, about how men make offers.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Levin, listening more to the sound of her voice than to the\nwords she was saying, and all the while paying attention to the road,\nwhich passed now through the forest, and avoiding places where she might\nmake a false step.\n\n\"And about Sergey Ivanovitch and Varenka. You've noticed?... I'm very\nanxious for it,\" she went on. \"What do you think about it?\" And she\npeeped into his face.\n\n\"I don't know what to think,\" Levin answered, smiling. \"Sergey seems\nvery strange to me in that way. I told you, you know...\"\n\n\"Yes, that he was in love with that girl who died....\"\n\n\"That was when I was a child; I know about it from hearsay and\ntradition. I remember him then. He was wonderfully sweet. But I've\nwatched him since with women; he is friendly, some of them he likes, but\none feels that to him they're simply people, not women.\"\n\n\"Yes, but now with Varenka ... I fancy there's something...\"\n\n\"Perhaps there is.... But one has to know him.... He's a peculiar,\nwonderful person. He lives a spiritual life only. He's too pure, too\nexalted a nature.\"\n\n\"Why? Would this lower him, then?\"\n\n\"No, but he's so used to a spiritual life that he can't reconcile\nhimself with actual fact, and Varenka is after all fact.\"\n\nLevin had grown used by now to uttering his thought boldly, without\ntaking the trouble of clothing it in exact language. He knew that his\nwife, in such moments of loving tenderness as now, would understand what\nhe meant to say from a hint, and she did understand him.\n\n\"Yes, but there's not so much of that actual fact about her as about me.\nI can see that he would never have cared for me. She is altogether\nspiritual.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, he is so fond of you, and I am always so glad when my people\nlike you....\"\n\n\"Yes, he's very nice to me; but...\"\n\n\"It's not as it was with poor Nikolay ... you really cared for each\nother,\" Levin finished. \"Why not speak of him?\" he added. \"I sometimes\nblame myself for not; it ends in one's forgetting. Ah, how terrible and\ndear he was!... Yes, what were we talking about?\" Levin said, after a\npause.\n\n\"You think he can't fall in love,\" said Kitty, translating into her own\nlanguage.\n\n\"It's not so much that he can't fall in love,\" Levin said, smiling, \"but\nhe has not the weakness necessary.... I've always envied him, and even\nnow, when I'm so happy, I still envy him.\"\n\n\"You envy him for not being able to fall in love?\"\n\n\"I envy him for being better than I,\" said Levin. \"He does not live for\nhimself. His whole life is subordinated to his duty. And that's why he\ncan be calm and contented.\"\n\n\"And you?\" Kitty asked, with an ironical and loving smile.\n\nShe could never have explained the chain of thought that made her smile;\nbut the last link in it was that her husband, in exalting his brother\nand abasing himself, was not quite sincere. Kitty knew that this\ninsincerity came from his love for his brother, from his sense of shame\nat being too happy, and above all from his unflagging craving to be\nbetter--she loved it in him, and so she smiled.\n\n\"And you? What are you dissatisfied with?\" she asked, with the same\nsmile.\n\nHer disbelief in his self-dissatisfaction delighted him, and\nunconsciously he tried to draw her into giving utterance to the grounds\nof her disbelief.\n\n\"I am happy, but dissatisfied with myself...\" he said.\n\n\"Why, how can you be dissatisfied with yourself if you are happy?\"\n\n\"Well, how shall I say?... In my heart I really care for nothing\nwhatever but that you should not stumble--see? Oh, but really you\nmustn't skip about like that!\" he cried, breaking off to scold her for\ntoo agile a movement in stepping over a branch that lay in the path.\n\"But when I think about myself, and compare myself with others,\nespecially with my brother, I feel I'm a poor creature.\"\n\n\"But in what way?\" Kitty pursued with the same smile. \"Don't you too\nwork for others? What about your co-operative settlement, and your work\non the estate, and your book?...\"\n\n\"Oh, but I feel, and particularly just now--it's your fault,\" he said,\npressing her hand--\"that all that doesn't count. I do it in a way\nhalfheartedly. If I could care for all that as I care for you!...\nInstead of that, I do it in these days like a task that is set me.\"\n\n\"Well, what would you say about papa?\" asked Kitty. \"Is he a poor\ncreature then, as he does nothing for the public good?\"\n\n\"He?--no! But then one must have the simplicity, the\nstraightforwardness, the goodness of your father: and I haven't got\nthat. I do nothing, and I fret about it. It's all your doing. Before\nthere was you--and _this_ too,\" he added with a glance towards her waist\nthat she understood--\"I put all my energies into work; now I can't, and\nI'm ashamed; I do it just as though it were a task set me, I'm\npretending....\"\n\n\"Well, but would you like to change this minute with Sergey Ivanovitch?\"\nsaid Kitty. \"Would you like to do this work for the general good, and to\nlove the task set you, as he does, and nothing else?\"\n\n\"Of course not,\" said Levin. \"But I'm so happy that I don't understand\nanything. So you think he'll make her an offer today?\" he added after a\nbrief silence.\n\n\"I think so, and I don't think so. Only, I'm awfully anxious for it.\nHere, wait a minute.\" She stooped down and picked a wild camomile at the\nedge of the path. \"Come, count: he does propose, he doesn't,\" she said,\ngiving him the flower.\n\n\"He does, he doesn't,\" said Levin, tearing off the white petals.\n\n\"No, no!\" Kitty, snatching at his hand, stopped him. She had been\nwatching his fingers with interest. \"You picked off two.\"\n\n\"Oh, but see, this little one shan't count to make up,\" said Levin,\ntearing off a little half-grown petal. \"Here's the wagonette overtaking\nus.\"\n\n\"Aren't you tired, Kitty?\" called the princess.\n\n\"Not in the least.\"\n\n\"If you are you can get in, as the horses are quiet and walking.\"\n\nBut it was not worth while to get in, they were quite near the place,\nand all walked on together.\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\n\nVarenka, with her white kerchief on her black hair, surrounded by the\nchildren, gaily and good-humoredly looking after them, and at the same\ntime visibly excited at the possibility of receiving a declaration from\nthe man she cared for, was very attractive. Sergey Ivanovitch walked\nbeside her, and never left off admiring her. Looking at her, he recalled\nall the delightful things he had heard from her lips, all the good he\nknew about her, and became more and more conscious that the feeling he\nhad for her was something special that he had felt long, long ago, and\nonly once, in his early youth. The feeling of happiness in being near\nher continually grew, and at last reached such a point that, as he put a\nhuge, slender-stalked agaric fungus in her basket, he looked straight\ninto her face, and noticing the flush of glad and alarmed excitement\nthat overspread her face, he was confused himself, and smiled to her in\nsilence a smile that said too much.\n\n\"If so,\" he said to himself, \"I ought to think it over and make up my\nmind, and not give way like a boy to the impulse of a moment.\"\n\n\"I'm going to pick by myself apart from all the rest, or else my efforts\nwill make no show,\" he said, and he left the edge of the forest where\nthey were walking on low silky grass between old birch trees standing\nfar apart, and went more into the heart of the wood, where between the\nwhite birch trunks there were gray trunks of aspen and dark bushes of\nhazel. Walking some forty paces away, Sergey Ivanovitch, knowing he was\nout of sight, stood still behind a bushy spindle-tree in full flower\nwith its rosy red catkins. It was perfectly still all round him. Only\noverhead in the birches under which he stood, the flies, like a swarm of\nbees, buzzed unceasingly, and from time to time the children's voices\nwere floated across to him. All at once he heard, not far from the edge\nof the wood, the sound of Varenka's contralto voice, calling Grisha, and\na smile of delight passed over Sergey Ivanovitch's face. Conscious of\nthis smile, he shook his head disapprovingly at his own condition, and\ntaking out a cigar, he began lighting it. For a long while he could not\nget a match to light against the trunk of a birch tree. The soft scales\nof the white bark rubbed off the phosphorus, and the light went out. At\nlast one of the matches burned, and the fragrant cigar smoke, hovering\nuncertainly in flat, wide coils, stretched away forwards and upwards\nover a bush under the overhanging branches of a birch tree. Watching the\nstreak of smoke, Sergey Ivanovitch walked gently on, deliberating on his\nposition.\n\n\"Why not?\" he thought. \"If it were only a passing fancy or a passion, if\nit were only this attraction--this mutual attraction (I can call it a\n_mutual_ attraction), but if I felt that it was in contradiction with\nthe whole bent of my life--if I felt that in giving way to this\nattraction I should be false to my vocation and my duty ... but it's not\nso. The only thing I can say against it is that, when I lost Marie, I\nsaid to myself that I would remain faithful to her memory. That's the\nonly thing I can say against my feeling.... That's a great thing,\"\nSergey Ivanovitch said to himself, feeling at the same time that this\nconsideration had not the slightest importance for him personally, but\nwould only perhaps detract from his romantic character in the eyes of\nothers. \"But apart from that, however much I searched, I should never\nfind anything to say against my feeling. If I were choosing by\nconsiderations of suitability alone, I could not have found anything\nbetter.\"\n\nHowever many women and girls he thought of whom he knew, he could not\nthink of a girl who united to such a degree all, positively all, the\nqualities he would wish to see in his wife. She had all the charm and\nfreshness of youth, but she was not a child; and if she loved him, she\nloved him consciously as a woman ought to love; that was one thing.\nAnother point: she was not only far from being worldly, but had an\nunmistakable distaste for worldly society, and at the same time she knew\nthe world, and had all the ways of a woman of the best society, which\nwere absolutely essential to Sergey Ivanovitch's conception of the woman\nwho was to share his life. Thirdly: she was religious, and not like a\nchild, unconsciously religious and good, as Kitty, for example, was, but\nher life was founded on religious principles. Even in trifling matters,\nSergey Ivanovitch found in her all that he wanted in his wife: she was\npoor and alone in the world, so she would not bring with her a mass of\nrelations and their influence into her husband's house, as he saw now in\nKitty's case. She would owe everything to her husband, which was what he\nhad always desired too for his future family life. And this girl, who\nunited all these qualities, loved him. He was a modest man, but he could\nnot help seeing it. And he loved her. There was one consideration\nagainst it--his age. But he came of a long-lived family, he had not a\nsingle gray hair, no one would have taken him for forty, and he\nremembered Varenka's saying that it was only in Russia that men of fifty\nthought themselves old, and that in France a man of fifty considers\nhimself _dans la force de l'age_, while a man of forty is _un jeune\nhomme_. But what did the mere reckoning of years matter when he felt as\nyoung in heart as he had been twenty years ago? Was it not youth to feel\nas he felt now, when coming from the other side to the edge of the wood\nhe saw in the glowing light of the slanting sunbeams the gracious figure\nof Varenka in her yellow gown with her basket, walking lightly by the\ntrunk of an old birch tree, and when this impression of the sight of\nVarenka blended so harmoniously with the beauty of the view, of the\nyellow oatfield lying bathed in the slanting sunshine, and beyond it the\ndistant ancient forest flecked with yellow and melting into the blue of\nthe distance? His heart throbbed joyously. A softened feeling came over\nhim. He felt that he had made up his mind. Varenka, who had just\ncrouched down to pick a mushroom, rose with a supple movement and looked\nround. Flinging away the cigar, Sergey Ivanovitch advanced with resolute\nsteps towards her.\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\n\n\"Varvara Andreevna, when I was very young, I set before myself the ideal\nof the woman I loved and should be happy to call my wife. I have lived\nthrough a long life, and now for the first time I have met what I\nsought--in you. I love you, and offer you my hand.\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch was saying this to himself while he was ten paces from\nVarvara. Kneeling down, with her hands over the mushrooms to guard them\nfrom Grisha, she was calling little Masha.\n\n\"Come here, little ones! There are so many!\" she was saying in her\nsweet, deep voice.\n\nSeeing Sergey Ivanovitch approaching, she did not get up and did not\nchange her position, but everything told him that she felt his presence\nand was glad of it.\n\n\"Well, did you find some?\" she asked from under the white kerchief,\nturning her handsome, gently smiling face to him.\n\n\"Not one,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch. \"Did you?\"\n\nShe did not answer, busy with the children who thronged about her.\n\n\"That one too, near the twig,\" she pointed out to little Masha a little\nfungus, split in half across its rosy cap by the dry grass from under\nwhich it thrust itself. Varenka got up while Masha picked the fungus,\nbreaking it into two white halves. \"This brings back my childhood,\" she\nadded, moving apart from the children beside Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\nThey walked on for some steps in silence. Varenka saw that he wanted to\nspeak; she guessed of what, and felt faint with joy and panic. They had\nwalked so far away that no one could hear them now, but still he did not\nbegin to speak. It would have been better for Varenka to be silent.\nAfter a silence it would have been easier for them to say what they\nwanted to say than after talking about mushrooms. But against her own\nwill, as it were accidentally, Varenka said:\n\n\"So you found nothing? In the middle of the wood there are always fewer,\nthough.\" Sergey Ivanovitch sighed and made no answer. He was annoyed\nthat she had spoken about the mushrooms. He wanted to bring her back to\nthe first words she had uttered about her childhood; but after a pause\nof some length, as though against his own will, he made an observation\nin response to her last words.\n\n\"I have heard that the white edible funguses are found principally at\nthe edge of the wood, though I can't tell them apart.\"\n\nSome minutes more passed, they moved still further away from the\nchildren, and were quite alone. Varenka's heart throbbed so that she\nheard it beating, and felt that she was turning red and pale and red\nagain.\n\nTo be the wife of a man like Koznishev, after her position with Madame\nStahl, was to her imagination the height of happiness. Besides, she was\nalmost certain that she was in love with him. And this moment it would\nhave to be decided. She felt frightened. She dreaded both his speaking\nand his not speaking.\n\nNow or never it must be said--that Sergey Ivanovitch felt too.\nEverything in the expression, the flushed cheeks and the downcast eyes\nof Varenka betrayed a painful suspense. Sergey Ivanovitch saw it and\nfelt sorry for her. He felt even that to say nothing now would be a\nslight to her. Rapidly in his own mind he ran over all the arguments in\nsupport of his decision. He even said over to himself the words in which\nhe meant to put his offer, but instead of those words, some utterly\nunexpected reflection that occurred to him made him ask:\n\n\"What is the difference between the 'birch' mushroom and the 'white'\nmushroom?\"\n\nVarenka's lips quivered with emotion as she answered:\n\n\"In the top part there is scarcely any difference, it's in the stalk.\"\n\nAnd as soon as these words were uttered, both he and she felt that it\nwas over, that what was to have been said would not be said; and their\nemotion, which had up to then been continually growing more intense,\nbegan to subside.\n\n\"The birch mushroom's stalk suggests a dark man's chin after two days\nwithout shaving,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, speaking quite calmly now.\n\n\"Yes, that's true,\" answered Varenka smiling, and unconsciously the\ndirection of their walk changed. They began to turn towards the\nchildren. Varenka felt both sore and ashamed; at the same time she had a\nsense of relief.\n\nWhen he had got home again and went over the whole subject, Sergey\nIvanovitch thought his previous decision had been a mistaken one. He\ncould not be false to the memory of Marie.\n\n\"Gently, children, gently!\" Levin shouted quite angrily to the children,\nstanding before his wife to protect her when the crowd of children flew\nwith shrieks of delight to meet them.\n\nBehind the children Sergey Ivanovitch and Varenka walked out of the\nwood. Kitty had no need to ask Varenka; she saw from the calm and\nsomewhat crestfallen faces of both that her plans had not come off.\n\n\"Well?\" her husband questioned her as they were going home again.\n\n\"It doesn't bite,\" said Kitty, her smile and manner of speaking\nrecalling her father, a likeness Levin often noticed with pleasure.\n\n\"How doesn't bite?\"\n\n\"I'll show you,\" she said, taking her husband's hand, lifting it to her\nmouth, and just faintly brushing it with closed lips. \"Like a kiss on a\npriest's hand.\"\n\n\"Which didn't it bite with?\" he said, laughing.\n\n\"Both. But it should have been like this...\"\n\n\"There are some peasants coming...\"\n\n\"Oh, they didn't see.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\n\nDuring the time of the children's tea the grown-up people sat in the\nbalcony and talked as though nothing had happened, though they all,\nespecially Sergey Ivanovitch and Varenka, were very well aware that\nthere had happened an event which, though negative, was of very great\nimportance. They both had the same feeling, rather like that of a\nschoolboy after an examination, which has left him in the same class or\nshut him out of the school forever. Everyone present, feeling too that\nsomething had happened, talked eagerly about extraneous subjects. Levin\nand Kitty were particularly happy and conscious of their love that\nevening. And their happiness in their love seemed to imply a\ndisagreeable slur on those who would have liked to feel the same and\ncould not--and they felt a prick of conscience.\n\n\"Mark my words, Alexander will not come,\" said the old princess.\n\nThat evening they were expecting Stepan Arkadyevitch to come down by\ntrain, and the old prince had written that possibly he might come too.\n\n\"And I know why,\" the princess went on; \"he says that young people ought\nto be left alone for a while at first.\"\n\n\"But papa has left us alone. We've never seen him,\" said Kitty.\n\"Besides, we're not young people!--we're old, married people by now.\"\n\n\"Only if he doesn't come, I shall say good-bye to you children,\" said\nthe princess, sighing mournfully.\n\n\"What nonsense, mamma!\" both the daughters fell upon her at once.\n\n\"How do you suppose he is feeling? Why, now...\"\n\nAnd suddenly there was an unexpected quiver in the princess's voice. Her\ndaughters were silent, and looked at one another. \"Maman always finds\nsomething to be miserable about,\" they said in that glance. They did not\nknow that happy as the princess was in her daughter's house, and useful\nas she felt herself to be there, she had been extremely miserable, both\non her own account and her husband's, ever since they had married their\nlast and favorite daughter, and the old home had been left empty.\n\n\"What is it, Agafea Mihalovna?\" Kitty asked suddenly of Agafea\nMihalovna, who was standing with a mysterious air, and a face full of\nmeaning.\n\n\"About supper.\"\n\n\"Well, that's right,\" said Dolly; \"you go and arrange about it, and I'll\ngo and hear Grisha repeat his lesson, or else he will have nothing done\nall day.\"\n\n\"That's my lesson! No, Dolly, I'm going,\" said Levin, jumping up.\n\nGrisha, who was by now at a high school, had to go over the lessons of\nthe term in the summer holidays. Darya Alexandrovna, who had been\nstudying Latin with her son in Moscow before, had made it a rule on\ncoming to the Levins' to go over with him, at least once a day, the most\ndifficult lessons of Latin and arithmetic. Levin had offered to take her\nplace, but the mother, having once overheard Levin's lesson, and\nnoticing that it was not given exactly as the teacher in Moscow had\ngiven it, said resolutely, though with much embarrassment and anxiety\nnot to mortify Levin, that they must keep strictly to the book as the\nteacher had done, and that she had better undertake it again herself.\nLevin was amazed both at Stepan Arkadyevitch, who, by neglecting his\nduty, threw upon the mother the supervision of studies of which she had\nno comprehension, and at the teachers for teaching the children so\nbadly. But he promised his sister-in-law to give the lessons exactly as\nshe wished. And he went on teaching Grisha, not in his own way, but by\nthe book, and so took little interest in it, and often forgot the hour\nof the lesson. So it had been today.\n\n\"No, I'm going, Dolly, you sit still,\" he said. \"We'll do it all\nproperly, like the book. Only when Stiva comes, and we go out shooting,\nthen we shall have to miss it.\"\n\nAnd Levin went to Grisha.\n\nVarenka was saying the same thing to Kitty. Even in the happy,\nwell-ordered household of the Levins Varenka had succeeded in making\nherself useful.\n\n\"I'll see to the supper, you sit still,\" she said, and got up to go to\nAgafea Mihalovna.\n\n\"Yes, yes, most likely they've not been able to get chickens. If so,\nours...\"\n\n\"Agafea Mihalovna and I will see about it,\" and Varenka vanished with\nher.\n\n\"What a nice girl!\" said the princess.\n\n\"Not nice, maman; she's an exquisite girl; there's no one else like\nher.\"\n\n\"So you are expecting Stepan Arkadyevitch today?\" said Sergey\nIvanovitch, evidently not disposed to pursue the conversation about\nVarenka. \"It would be difficult to find two sons-in-law more unlike than\nyours,\" he said with a subtle smile. \"One all movement, only living in\nsociety, like a fish in water; the other our Kostya, lively, alert,\nquick in everything, but as soon as he is in society, he either sinks\ninto apathy, or struggles helplessly like a fish on land.\"\n\n\"Yes, he's very heedless,\" said the princess, addressing Sergey\nIvanovitch. \"I've been meaning, indeed, to ask you to tell him that it's\nout of the question for her\" (she indicated Kitty) \"to stay here; that\nshe positively must come to Moscow. He talks of getting a doctor\ndown...\"\n\n\"Maman, he'll do everything; he has agreed to everything,\" Kitty said,\nangry with her mother for appealing to Sergey Ivanovitch to judge in\nsuch a matter.\n\nIn the middle of their conversation they heard the snorting of horses\nand the sound of wheels on the gravel. Dolly had not time to get up to\ngo and meet her husband, when from the window of the room below, where\nGrisha was having his lesson, Levin leaped out and helped Grisha out\nafter him.\n\n\"It's Stiva!\" Levin shouted from under the balcony. \"We've finished,\nDolly, don't be afraid!\" he added, and started running like a boy to\nmeet the carriage.\n\n\"_Is ea id, ejus, ejus, ejus!_\" shouted Grisha, skipping along the\navenue.\n\n\"And some one else too! Papa, of course!\" cried Levin, stopping at the\nentrance of the avenue. \"Kitty, don't come down the steep staircase, go\nround.\"\n\nBut Levin had been mistaken in taking the person sitting in the carriage\nfor the old prince. As he got nearer to the carriage he saw beside\nStepan Arkadyevitch not the prince but a handsome, stout young man in a\nScotch cap, with long ends of ribbon behind. This was Vassenka\nVeslovsky, a distant cousin of the Shtcherbatskys, a brilliant young\ngentleman in Petersburg and Moscow society. \"A capital fellow, and a\nkeen sportsman,\" as Stepan Arkadyevitch said, introducing him.\n\nNot a whit abashed by the disappointment caused by his having come in\nplace of the old prince, Veslovsky greeted Levin gaily, claiming\nacquaintance with him in the past, and snatching up Grisha into the\ncarriage, lifted him over the pointer that Stepan Arkadyevitch had\nbrought with him.\n\nLevin did not get into the carriage, but walked behind. He was rather\nvexed at the non-arrival of the old prince, whom he liked more and more\nthe more he saw of him, and also at the arrival of this Vassenka\nVeslovsky, a quite uncongenial and superfluous person. He seemed to him\nstill more uncongenial and superfluous when, on approaching the steps\nwhere the whole party, children and grown-up, were gathered together in\nmuch excitement, Levin saw Vassenka Veslovsky, with a particularly warm\nand gallant air, kissing Kitty's hand.\n\n\"Your wife and I are cousins and very old friends,\" said Vassenka\nVeslovsky, once more shaking Levin's hand with great warmth.\n\n\"Well, are there plenty of birds?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said to Levin,\nhardly leaving time for everyone to utter their greetings. \"We've come\nwith the most savage intentions. Why, maman, they've not been in Moscow\nsince! Look, Tanya, here's something for you! Get it, please, it's in\nthe carriage, behind!\" he talked in all directions. \"How pretty you've\ngrown, Dolly,\" he said to his wife, once more kissing her hand, holding\nit in one of his, and patting it with the other.\n\nLevin, who a minute before had been in the happiest frame of mind, now\nlooked darkly at everyone, and everything displeased him.\n\n\"Who was it he kissed yesterday with those lips?\" he thought, looking at\nStepan Arkadyevitch's tender demonstrations to his wife. He looked at\nDolly, and he did not like her either.\n\n\"She doesn't believe in his love. So what is she so pleased about?\nRevolting!\" thought Levin.\n\nHe looked at the princess, who had been so dear to him a minute before,\nand he did not like the manner in which she welcomed this Vassenka, with\nhis ribbons, just as though she were in her own house.\n\nEven Sergey Ivanovitch, who had come out too onto the steps, seemed to\nhim unpleasant with the show of cordiality with which he met Stepan\nArkadyevitch, though Levin knew that his brother neither liked nor\nrespected Oblonsky.\n\nAnd Varenka, even she seemed hateful, with her air _sainte nitouche_\nmaking the acquaintance of this gentleman, while all the while she was\nthinking of nothing but getting married.\n\nAnd more hateful than anyone was Kitty for falling in with the tone of\ngaiety with which this gentleman regarded his visit in the country, as\nthough it were a holiday for himself and everyone else. And, above all,\nunpleasant was that particular smile with which she responded to his\nsmile.\n\nNoisily talking, they all went into the house; but as soon as they were\nall seated, Levin turned and went out.\n\nKitty saw something was wrong with her husband. She tried to seize a\nmoment to speak to him alone, but he made haste to get away from her,\nsaying he was wanted at the counting-house. It was long since his own\nwork on the estate had seemed to him so important as at that moment.\n\"It's all holiday for them,\" he thought; \"but these are no holiday\nmatters, they won't wait, and there's no living without them.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\n\nLevin came back to the house only when they sent to summon him to\nsupper. On the stairs were standing Kitty and Agafea Mihalovna,\nconsulting about wines for supper.\n\n\"But why are you making all this fuss? Have what we usually do.\"\n\n\"No, Stiva doesn't drink ... Kostya, stop, what's the matter?\" Kitty\nbegan, hurrying after him, but he strode ruthlessly away to the dining\nroom without waiting for her, and at once joined in the lively general\nconversation which was being maintained there by Vassenka Veslovsky and\nStepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"Well, what do you say, are we going shooting tomorrow?\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch.\n\n\"Please, do let's go,\" said Veslovsky, moving to another chair, where he\nsat down sideways, with one fat leg crossed under him.\n\n\"I shall be delighted, we will go. And have you had any shooting yet\nthis year?\" said Levin to Veslovsky, looking intently at his leg, but\nspeaking with that forced amiability that Kitty knew so well in him, and\nthat was so out of keeping with him. \"I can't answer for our finding\ngrouse, but there are plenty of snipe. Only we ought to start early.\nYou're not tired? Aren't you tired, Stiva?\"\n\n\"Me tired? I've never been tired yet. Suppose we stay up all night.\nLet's go for a walk!\"\n\n\"Yes, really, let's not go to bed at all! Capital!\" Veslovsky chimed in.\n\n\"Oh, we all know you can do without sleep, and keep other people up\ntoo,\" Dolly said to her husband, with that faint note of irony in her\nvoice which she almost always had now with her husband. \"But to my\nthinking, it's time for bed now.... I'm going, I don't want supper.\"\n\n\"No, do stay a little, Dolly,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, going round to\nher side behind the table where they were having supper. \"I've so much\nstill to tell you.\"\n\n\"Nothing really, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Do you know Veslovsky has been at Anna's, and he's going to them again?\nYou know they're hardly fifty miles from you, and I too must certainly\ngo over there. Veslovsky, come here!\"\n\nVassenka crossed over to the ladies, and sat down beside Kitty.\n\n\"Ah, do tell me, please; you have stayed with her? How was she?\" Darya\nAlexandrovna appealed to him.\n\nLevin was left at the other end of the table, and though never pausing\nin his conversation with the princess and Varenka, he saw that there was\nan eager and mysterious conversation going on between Stepan\nArkadyevitch, Dolly, Kitty, and Veslovsky. And that was not all. He saw\non his wife's face an expression of real feeling as she gazed with fixed\neyes on the handsome face of Vassenka, who was telling them something\nwith great animation.\n\n\"It's exceedingly nice at their place,\" Veslovsky was telling them about\nVronsky and Anna. \"I can't, of course, take it upon myself to judge, but\nin their house you feel the real feeling of home.\"\n\n\"What do they intend doing?\"\n\n\"I believe they think of going to Moscow.\"\n\n\"How jolly it would be for us all to go over to them together! When are\nyou going there?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch asked Vassenka.\n\n\"I'm spending July there.\"\n\n\"Will you go?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said to his wife.\n\n\"I've been wanting to a long while; I shall certainly go,\" said Dolly.\n\"I am sorry for her, and I know her. She's a splendid woman. I will go\nalone, when you go back, and then I shall be in no one's way. And it\nwill be better indeed without you.\"\n\n\"To be sure,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"And you, Kitty?\"\n\n\"I? Why should I go?\" Kitty said, flushing all over, and she glanced\nround at her husband.\n\n\"Do you know Anna Arkadyevna, then?\" Veslovsky asked her. \"She's a very\nfascinating woman.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she answered Veslovsky, crimsoning still more. She got up and\nwalked across to her husband.\n\n\"Are you going shooting, then, tomorrow?\" she said.\n\nHis jealousy had in these few moments, especially at the flush that had\noverspread her cheeks while she was talking to Veslovsky, gone far\nindeed. Now as he heard her words, he construed them in his own fashion.\nStrange as it was to him afterwards to recall it, it seemed to him at\nthe moment clear that in asking whether he was going shooting, all she\ncared to know was whether he would give that pleasure to Vassenka\nVeslovsky, with whom, as he fancied, she was in love.\n\n\"Yes, I'm going,\" he answered her in an unnatural voice, disagreeable to\nhimself.\n\n\"No, better spend the day here tomorrow, or Dolly won't see anything of\nher husband, and set off the day after,\" said Kitty.\n\nThe motive of Kitty's words was interpreted by Levin thus: \"Don't\nseparate me from _him_. I don't care about _your_ going, but do let me\nenjoy the society of this delightful young man.\"\n\n\"Oh, if you wish, we'll stay here tomorrow,\" Levin answered, with\npeculiar amiability.\n\nVassenka meanwhile, utterly unsuspecting the misery his presence had\noccasioned, got up from the table after Kitty, and watching her with\nsmiling and admiring eyes, he followed her.\n\nLevin saw that look. He turned white, and for a minute he could hardly\nbreathe. \"How dare he look at my wife like that!\" was the feeling that\nboiled within him.\n\n\"Tomorrow, then? Do, please, let us go,\" said Vassenka, sitting down on\na chair, and again crossing his leg as his habit was.\n\nLevin's jealousy went further still. Already he saw himself a deceived\nhusband, looked upon by his wife and her lover as simply necessary to\nprovide them with the conveniences and pleasures of life.... But in\nspite of that he made polite and hospitable inquiries of Vassenka about\nhis shooting, his gun, and his boots, and agreed to go shooting next\nday.\n\nHappily for Levin, the old princess cut short his agonies by getting up\nherself and advising Kitty to go to bed. But even at this point Levin\ncould not escape another agony. As he said good-night to his hostess,\nVassenka would again have kissed her hand, but Kitty, reddening, drew\nback her hand and said with a naive bluntness, for which the old\nprincess scolded her afterwards:\n\n\"We don't like that fashion.\"\n\nIn Levin's eyes she was to blame for having allowed such relations to\narise, and still more to blame for showing so awkwardly that she did not\nlike them.\n\n\"Why, how can one want to go to bed!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, who,\nafter drinking several glasses of wine at supper, was now in his most\ncharming and sentimental humor. \"Look, Kitty,\" he said, pointing to the\nmoon, which had just risen behind the lime trees--\"how exquisite!\nVeslovsky, this is the time for a serenade. You know, he has a splendid\nvoice; we practiced songs together along the road. He has brought some\nlovely songs with him, two new ones. Varvara Andreevna and he must sing\nsome duets.\"\n\nWhen the party had broken up, Stepan Arkadyevitch walked a long while\nabout the avenue with Veslovsky; their voices could be heard singing one\nof the new songs.\n\nLevin hearing these voices sat scowling in an easy-chair in his wife's\nbedroom, and maintained an obstinate silence when she asked him what was\nwrong. But when at last with a timid glance she hazarded the question:\n\"Was there perhaps something you disliked about Veslovsky?\"--it all\nburst out, and he told her all. He was humiliated himself at what he was\nsaying, and that exasperated him all the more.\n\nHe stood facing her with his eyes glittering menacingly under his\nscowling brows, and he squeezed his strong arms across his chest, as\nthough he were straining every nerve to hold himself in. The expression\nof his face would have been grim, and even cruel, if it had not at the\nsame time had a look of suffering which touched her. His jaws were\ntwitching, and his voice kept breaking.\n\n\"You must understand that I'm not jealous, that's a nasty word. I can't\nbe jealous, and believe that.... I can't say what I feel, but this is\nawful.... I'm not jealous, but I'm wounded, humiliated that anybody dare\nthink, that anybody dare look at you with eyes like that.\"\n\n\"Eyes like what?\" said Kitty, trying as conscientiously as possible to\nrecall every word and gesture of that evening and every shade implied in\nthem.\n\nAt the very bottom of her heart she did think there had been something\nprecisely at the moment when he had crossed over after her to the other\nend of the table; but she dared not own it even to herself, and would\nhave been even more unable to bring herself to say so to him, and so\nincrease his suffering.\n\n\"And what can there possibly be attractive about me as I am now?...\"\n\n\"Ah!\" he cried, clutching at his head, \"you shouldn't say that!... If\nyou had been attractive then...\"\n\n\"Oh, no, Kostya, oh, wait a minute, oh, do listen!\" she said, looking at\nhim with an expression of pained commiseration. \"Why, what can you be\nthinking about! When for me there's no one in the world, no one, no\none!... Would you like me never to see anyone?\"\n\nFor the first minute she had been offended at his jealousy; she was\nangry that the slightest amusement, even the most innocent, should be\nforbidden her; but now she would readily have sacrificed, not merely\nsuch trifles, but everything, for his peace of mind, to save him from\nthe agony he was suffering.\n\n\"You must understand the horror and comedy of my position,\" he went on\nin a desperate whisper; \"that he's in my house, that he's done nothing\nimproper positively except his free and easy airs and the way he sits on\nhis legs. He thinks it's the best possible form, and so I'm obliged to\nbe civil to him.\"\n\n\"But, Kostya, you're exaggerating,\" said Kitty, at the bottom of her\nheart rejoicing at the depth of his love for her, shown now in his\njealousy.\n\n\"The most awful part of it all is that you're just as you always are,\nand especially now when to me you're something sacred, and we're so\nhappy, so particularly happy--and all of a sudden a little wretch....\nHe's not a little wretch; why should I abuse him? I have nothing to do\nwith him. But why should my, and your, happiness...\"\n\n\"Do you know, I understand now what it's all come from,\" Kitty was\nbeginning.\n\n\"Well, what? what?\"\n\n\"I saw how you looked while we were talking at supper.\"\n\n\"Well, well!\" Levin said in dismay.\n\nShe told him what they had been talking about. And as she told him, she\nwas breathless with emotion. Levin was silent for a space, then he\nscanned her pale and distressed face, and suddenly he clutched at his\nhead.\n\n\"Katya, I've been worrying you! Darling, forgive me! It's madness!\nKatya, I'm a criminal. And how could you be so distressed at such\nidiocy?\"\n\n\"Oh, I was sorry for you.\"\n\n\"For me? for me? How mad I am!... But why make you miserable? It's awful\nto think that any outsider can shatter our happiness.\"\n\n\"It's humiliating too, of course.\"\n\n\"Oh, then I'll keep him here all the summer, and will overwhelm him with\ncivility,\" said Levin, kissing her hands. \"You shall see. Tomorrow....\nOh, yes, we are going tomorrow.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\n\nNext day, before the ladies were up, the wagonette and a trap for the\nshooting party were at the door, and Laska, aware since early morning\nthat they were going shooting, after much whining and darting to and\nfro, had sat herself down in the wagonette beside the coachman, and,\ndisapproving of the delay, was excitedly watching the door from which\nthe sportsmen still did not come out. The first to come out was Vassenka\nVeslovsky, in new high boots that reached half-way up his thick thighs,\nin a green blouse, with a new Russian leather cartridge-belt, and in his\nScotch cap with ribbons, with a brand-new English gun without a sling.\nLaska flew up to him, welcomed him, and jumping up, asked him in her own\nway whether the others were coming soon, but getting no answer from him,\nshe returned to her post of observation and sank into repose again, her\nhead on one side, and one ear pricked up to listen. At last the door\nopened with a creak, and Stepan Arkadyevitch's spot-and-tan pointer Krak\nflew out, running round and round and turning over in the air. Stepan\nArkadyevitch himself followed with a gun in his hand and a cigar in his\nmouth.\n\n\"Good dog, good dog, Krak!\" he cried encouragingly to the dog, who put\nhis paws up on his chest, catching at his game bag. Stepan Arkadyevitch\nwas dressed in rough leggings and spats, in torn trousers and a short\ncoat. On his head there was a wreck of a hat of indefinite form, but his\ngun of a new patent was a perfect gem, and his game bag and cartridge\nbelt, though worn, were of the very best quality.\n\nVassenka Veslovsky had had no notion before that it was truly _chic_ for\na sportsman to be in tatters, but to have his shooting outfit of the\nbest quality. He saw it now as he looked at Stepan Arkadyevitch, radiant\nin his rags, graceful, well-fed, and joyous, a typical Russian nobleman.\nAnd he made up his mind that next time he went shooting he would\ncertainly adopt the same get-up.\n\n\"Well, and what about our host?\" he asked.\n\n\"A young wife,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling.\n\n\"Yes, and such a charming one!\"\n\n\"He came down dressed. No doubt he's run up to her again.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch guessed right. Levin had run up again to his wife to\nask her once more if she forgave him for his idiocy yesterday, and,\nmoreover, to beg her for Christ's sake to be more careful. The great\nthing was for her to keep away from the children--they might any minute\npush against her. Then he had once more to hear her declare that she was\nnot angry with him for going away for two days, and to beg her to be\nsure to send him a note next morning by a servant on horseback, to write\nhim, if it were but two words only, to let him know that all was well\nwith her.\n\nKitty was distressed, as she always was, at parting for a couple of days\nfrom her husband, but when she saw his eager figure, looking big and\nstrong in his shooting-boots and his white blouse, and a sort of\nsportsman elation and excitement incomprehensible to her, she forgot her\nown chagrin for the sake of his pleasure, and said good-bye to him\ncheerfully.\n\n\"Pardon, gentlemen!\" he said, running out onto the steps. \"Have you put\nthe lunch in? Why is the chestnut on the right? Well, it doesn't matter.\nLaska, down; go and lie down!\"\n\n\"Put it with the herd of oxen,\" he said to the herdsman, who was waiting\nfor him at the steps with some question. \"Excuse me, here comes another\nvillain.\"\n\nLevin jumped out of the wagonette, in which he had already taken his\nseat, to meet the carpenter, who came towards the steps with a rule in\nhis hand.\n\n\"You didn't come to the counting house yesterday, and now you're\ndetaining me. Well, what is it?\"\n\n\"Would your honor let me make another turning? It's only three steps to\nadd. And we make it just fit at the same time. It will be much more\nconvenient.\"\n\n\"You should have listened to me,\" Levin answered with annoyance. \"I\nsaid: Put the lines and then fit in the steps. Now there's no setting it\nright. Do as I told you, and make a new staircase.\"\n\nThe point was that in the lodge that was being built the carpenter had\nspoiled the staircase, fitting it together without calculating the space\nit was to fill, so that the steps were all sloping when it was put in\nplace. Now the carpenter wanted, keeping the same staircase, to add\nthree steps.\n\n\"It will be much better.\"\n\n\"But where's your staircase coming out with its three steps?\"\n\n\"Why, upon my word, sir,\" the carpenter said with a contemptuous smile.\n\"It comes out right at the very spot. It starts, so to speak,\" he said,\nwith a persuasive gesture; \"it comes down, and comes down, and comes\nout.\"\n\n\"But three steps will add to the length too ... where is it to come\nout?\"\n\n\"Why, to be sure, it'll start from the bottom and go up and go up, and\ncome out so,\" the carpenter said obstinately and convincingly.\n\n\"It'll reach the ceiling and the wall.\"\n\n\"Upon my word! Why, it'll go up, and up, and come out like this.\"\n\nLevin took out a ramrod and began sketching him the staircase in the\ndust.\n\n\"There, do you see?\"\n\n\"As your honor likes,\" said the carpenter, with a sudden gleam in his\neyes, obviously understanding the thing at last. \"It seems it'll be best\nto make a new one.\"\n\n\"Well, then, do it as you're told,\" Levin shouted, seating himself in\nthe wagonette. \"Down! Hold the dogs, Philip!\"\n\nLevin felt now at leaving behind all his family and household cares such\nan eager sense of joy in life and expectation that he was not disposed\nto talk. Besides that, he had that feeling of concentrated excitement\nthat every sportsman experiences as he approaches the scene of action.\nIf he had anything on his mind at that moment, it was only the doubt\nwhether they would start anything in the Kolpensky marsh, whether Laska\nwould show to advantage in comparison with Krak, and whether he would\nshoot well that day himself. Not to disgrace himself before a new\nspectator--not to be outdone by Oblonsky--that too was a thought that\ncrossed his brain.\n\nOblonsky was feeling the same, and he too was not talkative. Vassenka\nVeslovsky kept up alone a ceaseless flow of cheerful chatter. As he\nlistened to him now, Levin felt ashamed to think how unfair he had been\nto him the day before. Vassenka was really a nice fellow, simple,\ngood-hearted, and very good-humored. If Levin had met him before he was\nmarried, he would have made friends with him. Levin rather disliked his\nholiday attitude to life and a sort of free and easy assumption of\nelegance. It was as though he assumed a high degree of importance in\nhimself that could not be disputed, because he had long nails and a\nstylish cap, and everything else to correspond; but this could be\nforgiven for the sake of his good nature and good breeding. Levin liked\nhim for his good education, for speaking French and English with such an\nexcellent accent, and for being a man of his world.\n\nVassenka was extremely delighted with the left horse, a horse of the Don\nSteppes. He kept praising him enthusiastically. \"How fine it must be\ngalloping over the steppes on a steppe horse! Eh? isn't it?\" he said. He\nhad imagined riding on a steppe horse as something wild and romantic,\nand it turned out nothing of the sort. But his simplicity, particularly\nin conjunction with his good looks, his amiable smile, and the grace of\nhis movements, was very attractive. Either because his nature was\nsympathetic to Levin, or because Levin was trying to atone for his sins\nof the previous evening by seeing nothing but what was good in him,\nanyway he liked his society.\n\nAfter they had driven over two miles from home, Veslovsky all at once\nfelt for a cigar and his pocketbook, and did not know whether he had\nlost them or left them on the table. In the pocketbook there were\nthirty-seven pounds, and so the matter could not be left in uncertainty.\n\n\"Do you know what, Levin, I'll gallop home on that left trace-horse.\nThat will be splendid. Eh?\" he said, preparing to get out.\n\n\"No, why should you?\" answered Levin, calculating that Vassenka could\nhardly weigh less than seventeen stone. \"I'll send the coachman.\"\n\nThe coachman rode back on the trace-horse, and Levin himself drove the\nremaining pair.\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\n\n\"Well, now what's our plan of campaign? Tell us all about it,\" said\nStepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"Our plan is this. Now we're driving to Gvozdyov. In Gvozdyov there's a\ngrouse marsh on this side, and beyond Gvozdyov come some magnificent\nsnipe marshes where there are grouse too. It's hot now, and we'll get\nthere--it's fifteen miles or so--towards evening and have some evening\nshooting; we'll spend the night there and go on tomorrow to the bigger\nmoors.\"\n\n\"And is there nothing on the way?\"\n\n\"Yes; but we'll reserve ourselves; besides it's hot. There are two nice\nlittle places, but I doubt there being anything to shoot.\"\n\nLevin would himself have liked to go into these little places, but they\nwere near home; he could shoot them over any time, and they were only\nlittle places--there would hardly be room for three to shoot. And so,\nwith some insincerity, he said that he doubted there being anything to\nshoot. When they reached a little marsh Levin would have driven by, but\nStepan Arkadyevitch, with the experienced eye of a sportsman, at once\ndetected reeds visible from the road.\n\n\"Shan't we try that?\" he said, pointing to the little marsh.\n\n\"Levin, do, please! how delightful!\" Vassenka Veslovsky began begging,\nand Levin could but consent.\n\nBefore they had time to stop, the dogs had flown one before the other\ninto the marsh.\n\n\"Krak! Laska!...\"\n\nThe dogs came back.\n\n\"There won't be room for three. I'll stay here,\" said Levin, hoping they\nwould find nothing but peewits, who had been startled by the dogs, and\nturning over in their flight, were plaintively wailing over the marsh.\n\n\"No! Come along, Levin, let's go together!\" Veslovsky called.\n\n\"Really, there's not room. Laska, back, Laska! You won't want another\ndog, will you?\"\n\nLevin remained with the wagonette, and looked enviously at the\nsportsmen. They walked right across the marsh. Except little birds and\npeewits, of which Vassenka killed one, there was nothing in the marsh.\n\n\"Come, you see now that it was not that I grudged the marsh,\" said\nLevin, \"only it's wasting time.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, it was jolly all the same. Did you see us?\" said Vassenka\nVeslovsky, clambering awkwardly into the wagonette with his gun and his\npeewit in his hands. \"How splendidly I shot this bird! Didn't I? Well,\nshall we soon be getting to the real place?\"\n\nThe horses started off suddenly, Levin knocked his head against the\nstock of someone's gun, and there was the report of a shot. The gun did\nactually go off first, but that was how it seemed to Levin. It appeared\nthat Vassenka Veslovsky had pulled only one trigger, and had left the\nother hammer still cocked. The charge flew into the ground without doing\nharm to anyone. Stepan Arkadyevitch shook his head and laughed\nreprovingly at Veslovsky. But Levin had not the heart to reprove him. In\nthe first place, any reproach would have seemed to be called forth by\nthe danger he had incurred and the bump that had come up on Levin's\nforehead. And besides, Veslovsky was at first so naively distressed, and\nthen laughed so good-humoredly and infectiously at their general dismay,\nthat one could not but laugh with him.\n\nWhen they reached the second marsh, which was fairly large, and would\ninevitably take some time to shoot over, Levin tried to persuade them to\npass it by. But Veslovsky again overpersuaded him. Again, as the marsh\nwas narrow, Levin, like a good host, remained with the carriage.\n\nKrak made straight for some clumps of sedge. Vassenka Veslovsky was the\nfirst to run after the dog. Before Stepan Arkadyevitch had time to come\nup, a grouse flew out. Veslovsky missed it and it flew into an unmown\nmeadow. This grouse was left for Veslovsky to follow up. Krak found it\nagain and pointed, and Veslovsky shot it and went back to the carriage.\n\"Now you go and I'll stay with the horses,\" he said.\n\nLevin had begun to feel the pangs of a sportsman's envy. He handed the\nreins to Veslovsky and walked into the marsh.\n\nLaska, who had been plaintively whining and fretting against the\ninjustice of her treatment, flew straight ahead to a hopeful place that\nLevin knew well, and that Krak had not yet come upon.\n\n\"Why don't you stop her?\" shouted Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"She won't scare them,\" answered Levin, sympathizing with his bitch's\npleasure and hurrying after her.\n\nAs she came nearer and nearer to the familiar breeding places there was\nmore and more earnestness in Laska's exploration. A little marsh bird\ndid not divert her attention for more than an instant. She made one\ncircuit round the clump of reeds, was beginning a second, and suddenly\nquivered with excitement and became motionless.\n\n\"Come, come, Stiva!\" shouted Levin, feeling his heart beginning to beat\nmore violently; and all of a sudden, as though some sort of shutter had\nbeen drawn back from his straining ears, all sounds, confused but loud,\nbegan to beat on his hearing, losing all sense of distance. He heard the\nsteps of Stepan Arkadyevitch, mistaking them for the tramp of the horses\nin the distance; he heard the brittle sound of the twigs on which he had\ntrodden, taking this sound for the flying of a grouse. He heard too, not\nfar behind him, a splashing in the water, which he could not explain to\nhimself.\n\nPicking his steps, he moved up to the dog.\n\n\"Fetch it!\"\n\nNot a grouse but a snipe flew up from beside the dog. Levin had lifted\nhis gun, but at the very instant when he was taking aim, the sound of\nsplashing grew louder, came closer, and was joined with the sound of\nVeslovsky's voice, shouting something with strange loudness. Levin saw\nhe had his gun pointed behind the snipe, but still he fired.\n\nWhen he had made sure he had missed, Levin looked round and saw the\nhorses and the wagonette not on the road but in the marsh.\n\nVeslovsky, eager to see the shooting, had driven into the marsh, and got\nthe horses stuck in the mud.\n\n\"Damn the fellow!\" Levin said to himself, as he went back to the\ncarriage that had sunk in the mire. \"What did you drive in for?\" he said\nto him dryly, and calling the coachman, he began pulling the horses out.\n\nLevin was vexed both at being hindered from shooting and at his horses\ngetting stuck in the mud, and still more at the fact that neither Stepan\nArkadyevitch nor Veslovsky helped him and the coachman to unharness the\nhorses and get them out, since neither of them had the slightest notion\nof harnessing. Without vouchsafing a syllable in reply to Vassenka's\nprotestations that it had been quite dry there, Levin worked in silence\nwith the coachman at extricating the horses. But then, as he got warm at\nthe work and saw how assiduously Veslovsky was tugging at the wagonette\nby one of the mud-guards, so that he broke it indeed, Levin blamed\nhimself for having under the influence of yesterday's feelings been too\ncold to Veslovsky, and tried to be particularly genial so as to smooth\nover his chilliness. When everything had been put right, and the\ncarriage had been brought back to the road, Levin had the lunch served.\n\n\"_Bon appetit--bonne conscience! Ce poulet va tomber jusqu'au fond de\nmes bottes_,\" Vassenka, who had recovered his spirits, quoted the French\nsaying as he finished his second chicken. \"Well, now our troubles are\nover, now everything's going to go well. Only, to atone for my sins, I'm\nbound to sit on the box. That's so? eh? No, no! I'll be your Automedon.\nYou shall see how I'll get you along,\" he answered, not letting go the\nrein, when Levin begged him to let the coachman drive. \"No, I must atone\nfor my sins, and I'm very comfortable on the box.\" And he drove.\n\nLevin was a little afraid he would exhaust the horses, especially the\nchestnut, whom he did not know how to hold in; but unconsciously he fell\nunder the influence of his gaiety and listened to the songs he sang all\nthe way on the box, or the descriptions and representations he gave of\ndriving in the English fashion, four-in-hand; and it was in the very\nbest of spirits that after lunch they drove to the Gvozdyov marsh.\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\n\nVassenka drove the horses so smartly that they reached the marsh too\nearly, while it was still hot.\n\nAs they drew near this more important marsh, the chief aim of their\nexpedition, Levin could not help considering how he could get rid of\nVassenka and be free in his movements. Stepan Arkadyevitch evidently had\nthe same desire, and on his face Levin saw the look of anxiety always\npresent in a true sportsman when beginning shooting, together with a\ncertain good-humored slyness peculiar to him.\n\n\"How shall we go? It's a splendid marsh, I see, and there are hawks,\"\nsaid Stepan Arkadyevitch, pointing to two great birds hovering over the\nreeds. \"Where there are hawks, there is sure to be game.\"\n\n\"Now, gentlemen,\" said Levin, pulling up his boots and examining the\nlock of his gun with rather a gloomy expression, \"do you see those\nreeds?\" He pointed to an oasis of blackish green in the huge half-mown\nwet meadow that stretched along the right bank of the river. \"The marsh\nbegins here, straight in front of us, do you see--where it is greener?\nFrom here it runs to the right where the horses are; there are breeding\nplaces there, and grouse, and all round those reeds as far as that\nalder, and right up to the mill. Over there, do you see, where the pools\nare? That's the best place. There I once shot seventeen snipe. We'll\nseparate with the dogs and go in different directions, and then meet\nover there at the mill.\"\n\n\"Well, which shall go to left and which to right?\" asked Stepan\nArkadyevitch. \"It's wider to the right; you two go that way and I'll\ntake the left,\" he said with apparent carelessness.\n\n\"Capital! we'll make the bigger bag! Yes, come along, come along!\"\nVassenka exclaimed.\n\nLevin could do nothing but agree, and they divided.\n\nAs soon as they entered the marsh, the two dogs began hunting about\ntogether and made towards the green, slime-covered pool. Levin knew\nLaska's method, wary and indefinite; he knew the place too and expected\na whole covey of snipe.\n\n\"Veslovsky, beside me, walk beside me!\" he said in a faint voice to his\ncompanion splashing in the water behind him. Levin could not help\nfeeling an interest in the direction his gun was pointed, after that\ncasual shot near the Kolpensky marsh.\n\n\"Oh, I won't get in your way, don't trouble about me.\"\n\nBut Levin could not help troubling, and recalled Kitty's words at\nparting: \"Mind you don't shoot one another.\" The dogs came nearer and\nnearer, passed each other, each pursuing its own scent. The expectation\nof snipe was so intense that to Levin the squelching sound of his own\nheel, as he drew it up out of the mire, seemed to be the call of a\nsnipe, and he clutched and pressed the lock of his gun.\n\n\"Bang! bang!\" sounded almost in his ear. Vassenka had fired at a flock\nof ducks which was hovering over the marsh and flying at that moment\ntowards the sportsmen, far out of range. Before Levin had time to look\nround, there was the whir of one snipe, another, a third, and some eight\nmore rose one after another.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch hit one at the very moment when it was beginning its\nzigzag movements, and the snipe fell in a heap into the mud. Oblonsky\naimed deliberately at another, still flying low in the reeds, and\ntogether with the report of the shot, that snipe too fell, and it could\nbe seen fluttering out where the sedge had been cut, its unhurt wing\nshowing white beneath.\n\nLevin was not so lucky: he aimed at his first bird too low, and missed;\nhe aimed at it again, just as it was rising, but at that instant another\nsnipe flew up at his very feet, distracting him so that he missed again.\n\nWhile they were loading their guns, another snipe rose, and Veslovsky,\nwho had had time to load again, sent two charges of small-shot into the\nwater. Stepan Arkadyevitch picked up his snipe, and with sparkling eyes\nlooked at Levin.\n\n\"Well, now let us separate,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, and limping on\nhis left foot, holding his gun in readiness and whistling to his dog, he\nwalked off in one direction. Levin and Veslovsky walked in the other.\n\nIt always happened with Levin that when his first shots were a failure\nhe got hot and out of temper, and shot badly the whole day. So it was\nthat day. The snipe showed themselves in numbers. They kept flying up\nfrom just under the dogs, from under the sportsmen's legs, and Levin\nmight have retrieved his ill luck. But the more he shot, the more he\nfelt disgraced in the eyes of Veslovsky, who kept popping away merrily\nand indiscriminately, killing nothing, and not in the slightest abashed\nby his ill success. Levin, in feverish haste, could not restrain\nhimself, got more and more out of temper, and ended by shooting almost\nwithout a hope of hitting. Laska, indeed, seemed to understand this. She\nbegan looking more languidly, and gazed back at the sportsmen, as it\nwere, with perplexity or reproach in her eyes. Shots followed shots in\nrapid succession. The smoke of the powder hung about the sportsmen,\nwhile in the great roomy net of the game bag there were only three light\nlittle snipe. And of these one had been killed by Veslovsky alone, and\none by both of them together. Meanwhile from the other side of the marsh\ncame the sound of Stepan Arkadyevitch's shots, not frequent, but, as\nLevin fancied, well-directed, for almost after each they heard \"Krak,\nKrak, _apporte_!\"\n\nThis excited Levin still more. The snipe were floating continually in\nthe air over the reeds. Their whirring wings close to the earth, and\ntheir harsh cries high in the air, could be heard on all sides; the\nsnipe that had risen first and flown up into the air, settled again\nbefore the sportsmen. Instead of two hawks there were now dozens of them\nhovering with shrill cries over the marsh.\n\nAfter walking through the larger half of the marsh, Levin and Veslovsky\nreached the place where the peasants' mowing-grass was divided into long\nstrips reaching to the reeds, marked off in one place by the trampled\ngrass, in another by a path mown through it. Half of these strips had\nalready been mown.\n\nThough there was not so much hope of finding birds in the uncut part as\nthe cut part, Levin had promised Stepan Arkadyevitch to meet him, and so\nhe walked on with his companion through the cut and uncut patches.\n\n\"Hi, sportsmen!\" shouted one of a group of peasants, sitting on an\nunharnessed cart; \"come and have some lunch with us! Have a drop of\nwine!\"\n\nLevin looked round.\n\n\"Come along, it's all right!\" shouted a good-humored-looking bearded\npeasant with a red face, showing his white teeth in a grin, and holding\nup a greenish bottle that flashed in the sunlight.\n\n\"_Qu'est-ce qu'ils disent_?\" asked Veslovsky.\n\n\"They invite you to have some vodka. Most likely they've been dividing\nthe meadow into lots. I should have some,\" said Levin, not without some\nguile, hoping Veslovsky would be tempted by the vodka, and would go away\nto them.\n\n\"Why do they offer it?\"\n\n\"Oh, they're merry-making. Really, you should join them. You would be\ninterested.\"\n\n\"_Allons, c'est curieux_.\"\n\n\"You go, you go, you'll find the way to the mill!\" cried Levin, and\nlooking round he perceived with satisfaction that Veslovsky, bent and\nstumbling with weariness, holding his gun out at arm's length, was\nmaking his way out of the marsh towards the peasants.\n\n\"You come too!\" the peasants shouted to Levin. \"Never fear! You taste\nour cake!\"\n\nLevin felt a strong inclination to drink a little vodka and to eat some\nbread. He was exhausted, and felt it a great effort to drag his\nstaggering legs out of the mire, and for a minute he hesitated. But\nLaska was setting. And immediately all his weariness vanished, and he\nwalked lightly through the swamp towards the dog. A snipe flew up at his\nfeet; he fired and killed it. Laska still pointed.--\"Fetch it!\" Another\nbird flew up close to the dog. Levin fired. But it was an unlucky day\nfor him; he missed it, and when he went to look for the one he had shot,\nhe could not find that either. He wandered all about the reeds, but\nLaska did not believe he had shot it, and when he sent her to find it,\nshe pretended to hunt for it, but did not really. And in the absence of\nVassenka, on whom Levin threw the blame of his failure, things went no\nbetter. There were plenty of snipe still, but Levin made one miss after\nanother.\n\nThe slanting rays of the sun were still hot; his clothes, soaked through\nwith perspiration, stuck to his body; his left boot full of water\nweighed heavily on his leg and squeaked at every step; the sweat ran in\ndrops down his powder-grimed face, his mouth was full of the bitter\ntaste, his nose of the smell of powder and stagnant water, his ears were\nringing with the incessant whir of the snipe; he could not touch the\nstock of his gun, it was so hot; his heart beat with short, rapid\nthrobs; his hands shook with excitement, and his weary legs stumbled and\nstaggered over the hillocks and in the swamp, but still he walked on and\nstill he shot. At last, after a disgraceful miss, he flung his gun and\nhis hat on the ground.\n\n\"No, I must control myself,\" he said to himself. Picking up his gun and\nhis hat, he called Laska, and went out of the swamp. When he got on to\ndry ground he sat down, pulled off his boot and emptied it, then walked\nto the marsh, drank some stagnant-tasting water, moistened his burning\nhot gun, and washed his face and hands. Feeling refreshed, he went back\nto the spot where a snipe had settled, firmly resolved to keep cool.\n\nHe tried to be calm, but it was the same again. His finger pressed the\ncock before he had taken a good aim at the bird. It got worse and worse.\n\nHe had only five birds in his game-bag when he walked out of the marsh\ntowards the alders where he was to rejoin Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\nBefore he caught sight of Stepan Arkadyevitch he saw his dog. Krak\ndarted out from behind the twisted root of an alder, black all over with\nthe stinking mire of the marsh, and with the air of a conqueror sniffed\nat Laska. Behind Krak there came into view in the shade of the alder\ntree the shapely figure of Stepan Arkadyevitch. He came to meet him, red\nand perspiring, with unbuttoned neckband, still limping in the same way.\n\n\"Well? You have been popping away!\" he said, smiling good-humoredly.\n\n\"How have you got on?\" queried Levin. But there was no need to ask, for\nhe had already seen the full game bag.\n\n\"Oh, pretty fair.\"\n\nHe had fourteen birds.\n\n\"A splendid marsh! I've no doubt Veslovsky got in your way. It's awkward\ntoo, shooting with one dog,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, to soften his\ntriumph.\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\n\nWhen Levin and Stepan Arkadyevitch reached the peasant's hut where Levin\nalways used to stay, Veslovsky was already there. He was sitting in the\nmiddle of the hut, clinging with both hands to the bench from which he\nwas being pulled by a soldier, the brother of the peasant's wife, who\nwas helping him off with his miry boots. Veslovsky was laughing his\ninfectious, good-humored laugh.\n\n\"I've only just come. _Ils ont ete charmants_. Just fancy, they gave me\ndrink, fed me! Such bread, it was exquisite! _Delicieux!_ And the vodka,\nI never tasted any better. And they would not take a penny for anything.\nAnd they kept saying: 'Excuse our homely ways.'\"\n\n\"What should they take anything for? They were entertaining you, to be\nsure. Do you suppose they keep vodka for sale?\" said the soldier,\nsucceeding at last in pulling the soaked boot off the blackened\nstocking.\n\nIn spite of the dirtiness of the hut, which was all muddied by their\nboots and the filthy dogs licking themselves clean, and the smell of\nmarsh mud and powder that filled the room, and the absence of knives and\nforks, the party drank their tea and ate their supper with a relish only\nknown to sportsmen. Washed and clean, they went into a hay-barn swept\nready for them, where the coachman had been making up beds for the\ngentlemen.\n\nThough it was dusk, not one of them wanted to go to sleep.\n\nAfter wavering among reminiscences and anecdotes of guns, of dogs, and\nof former shooting parties, the conversation rested on a topic that\ninterested all of them. After Vassenka had several times over expressed\nhis appreciation of this delightful sleeping place among the fragrant\nhay, this delightful broken cart (he supposed it to be broken because\nthe shafts had been taken out), of the good nature of the peasants that\nhad treated him to vodka, of the dogs who lay at the feet of their\nrespective masters, Oblonsky began telling them of a delightful shooting\nparty at Malthus's, where he had stayed the previous summer.\n\nMalthus was a well-known capitalist, who had made his money by\nspeculation in railway shares. Stepan Arkadyevitch described what grouse\nmoors this Malthus had bought in the Tver province, and how they were\npreserved, and of the carriages and dogcarts in which the shooting party\nhad been driven, and the luncheon pavilion that had been rigged up at\nthe marsh.\n\n\"I don't understand you,\" said Levin, sitting up in the hay; \"how is it\nsuch people don't disgust you? I can understand a lunch with Lafitte is\nall very pleasant, but don't you dislike just that very sumptuousness?\nAll these people, just like our spirit monopolists in old days, get\ntheir money in a way that gains them the contempt of everyone. They\ndon't care for their contempt, and then they use their dishonest gains\nto buy off the contempt they have deserved.\"\n\n\"Perfectly true!\" chimed in Vassenka Veslovsky. \"Perfectly! Oblonsky, of\ncourse, goes out of _bonhomie_, but other people say: 'Well, Oblonsky\nstays with them.'...\"\n\n\"Not a bit of it.\" Levin could hear that Oblonsky was smiling as he\nspoke. \"I simply don't consider him more dishonest than any other\nwealthy merchant or nobleman. They've all made their money alike--by\ntheir work and their intelligence.\"\n\n\"Oh, by what work? Do you call it work to get hold of concessions and\nspeculate with them?\"\n\n\"Of course it's work. Work in this sense, that if it were not for him\nand others like him, there would have been no railways.\"\n\n\"But that's not work, like the work of a peasant or a learned\nprofession.\"\n\n\"Granted, but it's work in the sense that his activity produces a\nresult--the railways. But of course you think the railways useless.\"\n\n\"No, that's another question; I am prepared to admit that they're\nuseful. But all profit that is out of proportion to the labor expended\nis dishonest.\"\n\n\"But who is to define what is proportionate?\"\n\n\"Making profit by dishonest means, by trickery,\" said Levin, conscious\nthat he could not draw a distinct line between honesty and dishonesty.\n\"Such as banking, for instance,\" he went on. \"It's an evil--the amassing\nof huge fortunes without labor, just the same thing as with the spirit\nmonopolies, it's only the form that's changed. _Le roi est mort, vive le\nroi_. No sooner were the spirit monopolies abolished than the railways\ncame up, and banking companies; that, too, is profit without work.\"\n\n\"Yes, that may all be very true and clever.... Lie down, Krak!\" Stepan\nArkadyevitch called to his dog, who was scratching and turning over all\nthe hay. He was obviously convinced of the correctness of his position,\nand so talked serenely and without haste. \"But you have not drawn the\nline between honest and dishonest work. That I receive a bigger salary\nthan my chief clerk, though he knows more about the work than I\ndo--that's dishonest, I suppose?\"\n\n\"I can't say.\"\n\n\"Well, but I can tell you: your receiving some five thousand, let's say,\nfor your work on the land, while our host, the peasant here, however\nhard he works, can never get more than fifty roubles, is just as\ndishonest as my earning more than my chief clerk, and Malthus getting\nmore than a station-master. No, quite the contrary; I see that society\ntakes up a sort of antagonistic attitude to these people, which is\nutterly baseless, and I fancy there's envy at the bottom of it....\"\n\n\"No, that's unfair,\" said Veslovsky; \"how could envy come in? There is\nsomething not nice about that sort of business.\"\n\n\"You say,\" Levin went on, \"that it's unjust for me to receive five\nthousand, while the peasant has fifty; that's true. It is unfair, and I\nfeel it, but...\"\n\n\"It really is. Why is it we spend our time riding, drinking, shooting,\ndoing nothing, while they are forever at work?\" said Vassenka Veslovsky,\nobviously for the first time in his life reflecting on the question, and\nconsequently considering it with perfect sincerity.\n\n\"Yes, you feel it, but you don't give him your property,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, intentionally, as it seemed, provoking Levin.\n\nThere had arisen of late something like a secret antagonism between the\ntwo brothers-in-law; as though, since they had married sisters, a kind\nof rivalry had sprung up between them as to which was ordering his life\nbest, and now this hostility showed itself in the conversation, as it\nbegan to take a personal note.\n\n\"I don't give it away, because no one demands that from me, and if I\nwanted to, I could not give it away,\" answered Levin, \"and have no one\nto give it to.\"\n\n\"Give it to this peasant, he would not refuse it.\"\n\n\"Yes, but how am I to give it up? Am I to go to him and make a deed of\nconveyance?\"\n\n\"I don't know; but if you are convinced that you have no right...\"\n\n\"I'm not at all convinced. On the contrary, I feel I have no right to\ngive it up, that I have duties both to the land and to my family.\"\n\n\"No, excuse me, but if you consider this inequality is unjust, why is it\nyou don't act accordingly?...\"\n\n\"Well, I do act negatively on that idea, so far as not trying to\nincrease the difference of position existing between him and me.\"\n\n\"No, excuse me, that's a paradox.\"\n\n\"Yes, there's something of a sophistry about that,\" Veslovsky agreed.\n\"Ah! our host; so you're not asleep yet?\" he said to the peasant who\ncame into the barn, opening the creaking door. \"How is it you're not\nasleep?\"\n\n\"No, how's one to sleep! I thought our gentlemen would be asleep, but I\nheard them chattering. I want to get a hook from here. She won't bite?\"\nhe added, stepping cautiously with his bare feet.\n\n\"And where are you going to sleep?\"\n\n\"We are going out for the night with the beasts.\"\n\n\"Ah, what a night!\" said Veslovsky, looking out at the edge of the hut\nand the unharnessed wagonette that could be seen in the faint light of\nthe evening glow in the great frame of the open doors. \"But listen,\nthere are women's voices singing, and, on my word, not badly too. Who's\nthat singing, my friend?\"\n\n\"That's the maids from hard by here.\"\n\n\"Let's go, let's have a walk! We shan't go to sleep, you know. Oblonsky,\ncome along!\"\n\n\"If one could only do both, lie here and go,\" answered Oblonsky,\nstretching. \"It's capital lying here.\"\n\n\"Well, I shall go by myself,\" said Veslovsky, getting up eagerly, and\nputting on his shoes and stockings. \"Good-bye, gentlemen. If it's fun,\nI'll fetch you. You've treated me to some good sport, and I won't forget\nyou.\"\n\n\"He really is a capital fellow, isn't he?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\nwhen Veslovsky had gone out and the peasant had closed the door after\nhim.\n\n\"Yes, capital,\" answered Levin, still thinking of the subject of their\nconversation just before. It seemed to him that he had clearly expressed\nhis thoughts and feelings to the best of his capacity, and yet both of\nthem, straightforward men and not fools, had said with one voice that he\nwas comforting himself with sophistries. This disconcerted him.\n\n\"It's just this, my dear boy. One must do one of two things: either\nadmit that the existing order of society is just, and then stick up for\none's rights in it; or acknowledge that you are enjoying unjust\nprivileges, as I do, and then enjoy them and be satisfied.\"\n\n\"No, if it were unjust, you could not enjoy these advantages and be\nsatisfied--at least I could not. The great thing for me is to feel that\nI'm not to blame.\"\n\n\"What do you say, why not go after all?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\nevidently weary of the strain of thought. \"We shan't go to sleep, you\nknow. Come, let's go!\"\n\nLevin did not answer. What they had said in the conversation, that he\nacted justly only in a negative sense, absorbed his thoughts. \"Can it be\nthat it's only possible to be just negatively?\" he was asking himself.\n\n\"How strong the smell of the fresh hay is, though,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, getting up. \"There's not a chance of sleeping. Vassenka\nhas been getting up some fun there. Do you hear the laughing and his\nvoice? Hadn't we better go? Come along!\"\n\n\"No, I'm not coming,\" answered Levin.\n\n\"Surely that's not a matter of principle too,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\nsmiling, as he felt about in the dark for his cap.\n\n\"It's not a matter of principle, but why should I go?\"\n\n\"But do you know you are preparing trouble for yourself,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, finding his cap and getting up.\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"Do you suppose I don't see the line you've taken up with your wife? I\nheard how it's a question of the greatest consequence, whether or not\nyou're to be away for a couple of days' shooting. That's all very well\nas an idyllic episode, but for your whole life that won't answer. A man\nmust be independent; he has his masculine interests. A man has to be\nmanly,\" said Oblonsky, opening the door.\n\n\"In what way? To go running after servant girls?\" said Levin.\n\n\"Why not, if it amuses him? _Ca ne tire pas a consequence_. It won't do\nmy wife any harm, and it'll amuse me. The great thing is to respect the\nsanctity of the home. There should be nothing in the home. But don't tie\nyour own hands.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" said Levin dryly, and he turned on his side. \"Tomorrow,\nearly, I want to go shooting, and I won't wake anyone, and shall set off\nat daybreak.\"\n\n\"_Messieurs, venez vite!_\" they heard the voice of Veslovsky coming\nback. \"_Charmante!_ I've made such a discovery. _Charmante!_ a perfect\nGretchen, and I've already made friends with her. Really, exceedingly\npretty,\" he declared in a tone of approval, as though she had been made\npretty entirely on his account, and he was expressing his satisfaction\nwith the entertainment that had been provided for him.\n\nLevin pretended to be asleep, while Oblonsky, putting on his slippers,\nand lighting a cigar, walked out of the barn, and soon their voices were\nlost.\n\nFor a long while Levin could not get to sleep. He heard the horses\nmunching hay, then he heard the peasant and his elder boy getting ready\nfor the night, and going off for the night watch with the beasts, then\nhe heard the soldier arranging his bed on the other side of the barn,\nwith his nephew, the younger son of their peasant host. He heard the boy\nin his shrill little voice telling his uncle what he thought about the\ndogs, who seemed to him huge and terrible creatures, and asking what the\ndogs were going to hunt next day, and the soldier in a husky, sleepy\nvoice, telling him the sportsmen were going in the morning to the marsh,\nand would shoot with their guns; and then, to check the boy's questions,\nhe said, \"Go to sleep, Vaska; go to sleep, or you'll catch it,\" and soon\nafter he began snoring himself, and everything was still. He could only\nhear the snort of the horses, and the guttural cry of a snipe.\n\n\"Is it really only negative?\" he repeated to himself. \"Well, what of it?\nIt's not my fault.\" And he began thinking about the next day.\n\n\"Tomorrow I'll go out early, and I'll make a point of keeping cool.\nThere are lots of snipe; and there are grouse too. When I come back\nthere'll be the note from Kitty. Yes, Stiva may be right, I'm not manly\nwith her, I'm tied to her apron-strings.... Well, it can't be helped!\nNegative again....\"\n\nHalf asleep, he heard the laughter and mirthful talk of Veslovsky and\nStepan Arkadyevitch. For an instant he opened his eyes: the moon was up,\nand in the open doorway, brightly lighted up by the moonlight, they were\nstanding talking. Stepan Arkadyevitch was saying something of the\nfreshness of one girl, comparing her to a freshly peeled nut, and\nVeslovsky with his infectious laugh was repeating some words, probably\nsaid to him by a peasant: \"Ah, you do your best to get round her!\"\nLevin, half asleep, said:\n\n\"Gentlemen, tomorrow before daylight!\" and fell asleep.\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\n\nWaking up at earliest dawn, Levin tried to wake his companions.\nVassenka, lying on his stomach, with one leg in a stocking thrust out,\nwas sleeping so soundly that he could elicit no response. Oblonsky, half\nasleep, declined to get up so early. Even Laska, who was asleep, curled\nup in the hay, got up unwillingly, and lazily stretched out and\nstraightened her hind legs one after the other. Getting on his boots and\nstockings, taking his gun, and carefully opening the creaking door of\nthe barn, Levin went out into the road. The coachmen were sleeping in\ntheir carriages, the horses were dozing. Only one was lazily eating\noats, dipping its nose into the manger. It was still gray out-of-doors.\n\n\"Why are you up so early, my dear?\" the old woman, their hostess, said,\ncoming out of the hut and addressing him affectionately as an old\nfriend.\n\n\"Going shooting, granny. Do I go this way to the marsh?\"\n\n\"Straight out at the back; by our threshing floor, my dear, and hemp\npatches; there's a little footpath.\" Stepping carefully with her\nsunburnt, bare feet, the old woman conducted Levin, and moved back the\nfence for him by the threshing floor.\n\n\"Straight on and you'll come to the marsh. Our lads drove the cattle\nthere yesterday evening.\"\n\nLaska ran eagerly forward along the little path. Levin followed her with\na light, rapid step, continually looking at the sky. He hoped the sun\nwould not be up before he reached the marsh. But the sun did not delay.\nThe moon, which had been bright when he went out, by now shone only like\na crescent of quicksilver. The pink flush of dawn, which one could not\nhelp seeing before, now had to be sought to be discerned at all. What\nwere before undefined, vague blurs in the distant countryside could now\nbe distinctly seen. They were sheaves of rye. The dew, not visible till\nthe sun was up, wetted Levin's legs and his blouse above his belt in the\nhigh growing, fragrant hemp patch, from which the pollen had already\nfallen out. In the transparent stillness of morning the smallest sounds\nwere audible. A bee flew by Levin's ear with the whizzing sound of a\nbullet. He looked carefully, and saw a second and a third. They were all\nflying from the beehives behind the hedge, and they disappeared over the\nhemp patch in the direction of the marsh. The path led straight to the\nmarsh. The marsh could be recognized by the mist which rose from it,\nthicker in one place and thinner in another, so that the reeds and\nwillow bushes swayed like islands in this mist. At the edge of the marsh\nand the road, peasant boys and men, who had been herding for the night,\nwere lying, and in the dawn all were asleep under their coats. Not far\nfrom them were three hobbled horses. One of them clanked a chain. Laska\nwalked beside her master, pressing a little forward and looking round.\nPassing the sleeping peasants and reaching the first reeds, Levin\nexamined his pistols and let his dog off. One of the horses, a sleek,\ndark-brown three-year-old, seeing the dog, started away, switched its\ntail and snorted. The other horses too were frightened, and splashing\nthrough the water with their hobbled legs, and drawing their hoofs out\nof the thick mud with a squelching sound, they bounded out of the marsh.\nLaska stopped, looking ironically at the horses and inquiringly at\nLevin. Levin patted Laska, and whistled as a sign that she might begin.\n\nLaska ran joyfully and anxiously through the slush that swayed under\nher.\n\nRunning into the marsh among the familiar scents of roots, marsh plants,\nand slime, and the extraneous smell of horse dung, Laska detected at\nonce a smell that pervaded the whole marsh, the scent of that\nstrong-smelling bird that always excited her more than any other. Here\nand there among the moss and marsh plants this scent was very strong,\nbut it was impossible to determine in which direction it grew stronger\nor fainter. To find the direction, she had to go farther away from the\nwind. Not feeling the motion of her legs, Laska bounded with a stiff\ngallop, so that at each bound she could stop short, to the right, away\nfrom the wind that blew from the east before sunrise, and turned facing\nthe wind. Sniffing in the air with dilated nostrils, she felt at once\nthat not their tracks only but they themselves were here before her, and\nnot one, but many. Laska slackened her speed. They were here, but where\nprecisely she could not yet determine. To find the very spot, she began\nto make a circle, when suddenly her master's voice drew her off. \"Laska!\nhere?\" he asked, pointing her to a different direction. She stopped,\nasking him if she had better not go on doing as she had begun. But he\nrepeated his command in an angry voice, pointing to a spot covered with\nwater, where there could not be anything. She obeyed him, pretending she\nwas looking, so as to please him, went round it, and went back to her\nformer position, and was at once aware of the scent again. Now when he\nwas not hindering her, she knew what to do, and without looking at what\nwas under her feet, and to her vexation stumbling over a high stump into\nthe water, but righting herself with her strong, supple legs, she began\nmaking the circle which was to make all clear to her. The scent of them\nreached her, stronger and stronger, and more and more defined, and all\nat once it became perfectly clear to her that one of them was here,\nbehind this tuft of reeds, five paces in front of her; she stopped, and\nher whole body was still and rigid. On her short legs she could see\nnothing in front of her, but by the scent she knew it was sitting not\nmore than five paces off. She stood still, feeling more and more\nconscious of it, and enjoying it in anticipation. Her tail was stretched\nstraight and tense, and only wagging at the extreme end. Her mouth was\nslightly open, her ears raised. One ear had been turned wrong side out\nas she ran up, and she breathed heavily but warily, and still more\nwarily looked round, but more with her eyes than her head, to her\nmaster. He was coming along with the face she knew so well, though the\neyes were always terrible to her. He stumbled over the stump as he came,\nand moved, as she thought, extraordinarily slowly. She thought he came\nslowly, but he was running.\n\nNoticing Laska's special attitude as she crouched on the ground, as it\nwere, scratching big prints with her hind paws, and with her mouth\nslightly open, Levin knew she was pointing at grouse, and with an inward\nprayer for luck, especially with the first bird, he ran up to her.\nComing quite close up to her, he could from his height look beyond her,\nand he saw with his eyes what she was seeing with her nose. In a space\nbetween two little thickets, at a couple of yards' distance, he could\nsee a grouse. Turning its head, it was listening. Then lightly preening\nand folding its wings, it disappeared round a corner with a clumsy wag\nof its tail.\n\n\"Fetch it, fetch it!\" shouted Levin, giving Laska a shove from behind.\n\n\"But I can't go,\" thought Laska. \"Where am I to go? From here I feel\nthem, but if I move forward I shall know nothing of where they are or\nwho they are.\" But then he shoved her with his knee, and in an excited\nwhisper said, \"Fetch it, Laska.\"\n\n\"Well, if that's what he wishes, I'll do it, but I can't answer for\nmyself now,\" she thought, and darted forward as fast as her legs would\ncarry her between the thick bushes. She scented nothing now; she could\nonly see and hear, without understanding anything.\n\nTen paces from her former place a grouse rose with a guttural cry and\nthe peculiar round sound of its wings. And immediately after the shot it\nsplashed heavily with its white breast on the wet mire. Another bird did\nnot linger, but rose behind Levin without the dog. When Levin turned\ntowards it, it was already some way off. But his shot caught it. Flying\ntwenty paces further, the second grouse rose upwards, and whirling round\nlike a ball, dropped heavily on a dry place.\n\n\"Come, this is going to be some good!\" thought Levin, packing the warm\nand fat grouse into his game bag. \"Eh, Laska, will it be good?\"\n\nWhen Levin, after loading his gun, moved on, the sun had fully risen,\nthough unseen behind the storm-clouds. The moon had lost all of its\nluster, and was like a white cloud in the sky. Not a single star could\nbe seen. The sedge, silvery with dew before, now shone like gold. The\nstagnant pools were all like amber. The blue of the grass had changed to\nyellow-green. The marsh birds twittered and swarmed about the brook and\nupon the bushes that glittered with dew and cast long shadows. A hawk\nwoke up and settled on a haycock, turning its head from side to side and\nlooking discontentedly at the marsh. Crows were flying about the field,\nand a bare-legged boy was driving the horses to an old man, who had got\nup from under his long coat and was combing his hair. The smoke from the\ngun was white as milk over the green of the grass.\n\nOne of the boys ran up to Levin.\n\n\"Uncle, there were ducks here yesterday!\" he shouted to him, and he\nwalked a little way off behind him.\n\nAnd Levin was doubly pleased, in sight of the boy, who expressed his\napproval, at killing three snipe, one after another, straight off.\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\n\nThe sportsman's saying, that if the first beast or the first bird is not\nmissed, the day will be lucky, turned out correct.\n\nAt ten o'clock Levin, weary, hungry, and happy after a tramp of twenty\nmiles, returned to his night's lodging with nineteen head of fine game\nand one duck, which he tied to his belt, as it would not go into the\ngame bag. His companions had long been awake, and had had time to get\nhungry and have breakfast.\n\n\"Wait a bit, wait a bit, I know there are nineteen,\" said Levin,\ncounting a second time over the grouse and snipe, that looked so much\nless important now, bent and dry and bloodstained, with heads crooked\naside, than they did when they were flying.\n\nThe number was verified, and Stepan Arkadyevitch's envy pleased Levin.\nHe was pleased too on returning to find the man sent by Kitty with a\nnote was already there.\n\n\"I am perfectly well and happy. If you were uneasy about me, you can\nfeel easier than ever. I've a new bodyguard, Marya Vlasyevna,\"--this was\nthe midwife, a new and important personage in Levin's domestic life.\n\"She has come to have a look at me. She found me perfectly well, and we\nhave kept her till you are back. All are happy and well, and please,\ndon't be in a hurry to come back, but, if the sport is good, stay\nanother day.\"\n\nThese two pleasures, his lucky shooting and the letter from his wife,\nwere so great that two slightly disagreeable incidents passed lightly\nover Levin. One was that the chestnut trace horse, who had been\nunmistakably overworked on the previous day, was off his feed and out of\nsorts. The coachman said he was \"Overdriven yesterday, Konstantin\nDmitrievitch. Yes, indeed! driven ten miles with no sense!\"\n\nThe other unpleasant incident, which for the first minute destroyed his\ngood humor, though later he laughed at it a great deal, was to find that\nof all the provisions Kitty had provided in such abundance that one\nwould have thought there was enough for a week, nothing was left. On his\nway back, tired and hungry from shooting, Levin had so distinct a vision\nof meat-pies that as he approached the hut he seemed to smell and taste\nthem, as Laska had smelt the game, and he immediately told Philip to\ngive him some. It appeared that there were no pies left, nor even any\nchicken.\n\n\"Well, this fellow's appetite!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, laughing and\npointing at Vassenka Veslovsky. \"I never suffer from loss of appetite,\nbut he's really marvelous!...\"\n\n\"Well, it can't be helped,\" said Levin, looking gloomily at Veslovsky.\n\"Well, Philip, give me some beef, then.\"\n\n\"The beef's been eaten, and the bones given to the dogs,\" answered\nPhilip.\n\nLevin was so hurt that he said, in a tone of vexation, \"You might have\nleft me something!\" and he felt ready to cry.\n\n\"Then put away the game,\" he said in a shaking voice to Philip, trying\nnot to look at Vassenka, \"and cover them with some nettles. And you\nmight at least ask for some milk for me.\"\n\nBut when he had drunk some milk, he felt ashamed immediately at having\nshown his annoyance to a stranger, and he began to laugh at his hungry\nmortification.\n\nIn the evening they went shooting again, and Veslovsky had several\nsuccessful shots, and in the night they drove home.\n\nTheir homeward journey was as lively as their drive out had been.\nVeslovsky sang songs and related with enjoyment his adventures with the\npeasants, who had regaled him with vodka, and said to him, \"Excuse our\nhomely ways,\" and his night's adventures with kiss-in-the-ring and the\nservant-girl and the peasant, who had asked him was he married, and on\nlearning that he was not, said to him, \"Well, mind you don't run after\nother men's wives--you'd better get one of your own.\" These words had\nparticularly amused Veslovsky.\n\n\"Altogether, I've enjoyed our outing awfully. And you, Levin?\"\n\n\"I have, very much,\" Levin said quite sincerely. It was particularly\ndelightful to him to have got rid of the hostility he had been feeling\ntowards Vassenka Veslovsky at home, and to feel instead the most\nfriendly disposition to him.\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\n\nNext day at ten o'clock Levin, who had already gone his rounds, knocked\nat the room where Vassenka had been put for the night.\n\n\"_Entrez!_\" Veslovsky called to him. \"Excuse me, I've only just finished\nmy ablutions,\" he said, smiling, standing before him in his underclothes\nonly.\n\n\"Don't mind me, please.\" Levin sat down in the window. \"Have you slept\nwell?\"\n\n\"Like the dead. What sort of day is it for shooting?\"\n\n\"What will you take, tea or coffee?\"\n\n\"Neither. I'll wait till lunch. I'm really ashamed. I suppose the ladies\nare down? A walk now would be capital. You show me your horses.\"\n\nAfter walking about the garden, visiting the stable, and even doing some\ngymnastic exercises together on the parallel bars, Levin returned to the\nhouse with his guest, and went with him into the drawing room.\n\n\"We had splendid shooting, and so many delightful experiences!\" said\nVeslovsky, going up to Kitty, who was sitting at the samovar. \"What a\npity ladies are cut off from these delights!\"\n\n\"Well, I suppose he must say something to the lady of the house,\" Levin\nsaid to himself. Again he fancied something in the smile, in the\nall-conquering air with which their guest addressed Kitty....\n\nThe princess, sitting on the other side of the table with Marya\nVlasyevna and Stepan Arkadyevitch, called Levin to her side, and began\nto talk to him about moving to Moscow for Kitty's confinement, and\ngetting ready rooms for them. Just as Levin had disliked all the trivial\npreparations for his wedding, as derogatory to the grandeur of the\nevent, now he felt still more offensive the preparations for the\napproaching birth, the date of which they reckoned, it seemed, on their\nfingers. He tried to turn a deaf ear to these discussions of the best\npatterns of long clothes for the coming baby; tried to turn away and\navoid seeing the mysterious, endless strips of knitting, the triangles\nof linen, and so on, to which Dolly attached special importance. The\nbirth of a son (he was certain it would be a son) which was promised\nhim, but which he still could not believe in--so marvelous it\nseemed--presented itself to his mind, on one hand, as a happiness so\nimmense, and therefore so incredible; on the other, as an event so\nmysterious, that this assumption of a definite knowledge of what would\nbe, and consequent preparation for it, as for something ordinary that\ndid happen to people, jarred on him as confusing and humiliating.\n\nBut the princess did not understand his feelings, and put down his\nreluctance to think and talk about it to carelessness and indifference,\nand so she gave him no peace. She had commissioned Stepan Arkadyevitch\nto look at a flat, and now she called Levin up.\n\n\"I know nothing about it, princess. Do as you think fit,\" he said.\n\n\"You must decide when you will move.\"\n\n\"I really don't know. I know millions of children are born away from\nMoscow, and doctors ... why...\"\n\n\"But if so...\"\n\n\"Oh, no, as Kitty wishes.\"\n\n\"We can't talk to Kitty about it! Do you want me to frighten her? Why,\nthis spring Natalia Golitzina died from having an ignorant doctor.\"\n\n\"I will do just what you say,\" he said gloomily.\n\nThe princess began talking to him, but he did not hear her. Though the\nconversation with the princess had indeed jarred upon him, he was\ngloomy, not on account of that conversation, but from what he saw at the\nsamovar.\n\n\"No, it's impossible,\" he thought, glancing now and then at Vassenka\nbending over Kitty, telling her something with his charming smile, and\nat her, flushed and disturbed.\n\nThere was something not nice in Vassenka's attitude, in his eyes, in his\nsmile. Levin even saw something not nice in Kitty's attitude and look.\nAnd again the light died away in his eyes. Again, as before, all of a\nsudden, without the slightest transition, he felt cast down from a\npinnacle of happiness, peace, and dignity, into an abyss of despair,\nrage, and humiliation. Again everything and everyone had become hateful\nto him.\n\n\"You do just as you think best, princess,\" he said again, looking round.\n\n\"Heavy is the cap of Monomach,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said playfully,\nhinting, evidently, not simply at the princess's conversation, but at\nthe cause of Levin's agitation, which he had noticed.\n\n\"How late you are today, Dolly!\"\n\nEveryone got up to greet Darya Alexandrovna. Vassenka only rose for an\ninstant, and with the lack of courtesy to ladies characteristic of the\nmodern young man, he scarcely bowed, and resumed his conversation again,\nlaughing at something.\n\n\"I've been worried about Masha. She did not sleep well, and is\ndreadfully tiresome today,\" said Dolly.\n\nThe conversation Vassenka had started with Kitty was running on the same\nlines as on the previous evening, discussing Anna, and whether love is\nto be put higher than worldly considerations. Kitty disliked the\nconversation, and she was disturbed both by the subject and the tone in\nwhich it was conducted, and also by the knowledge of the effect it would\nhave on her husband. But she was too simple and innocent to know how to\ncut short this conversation, or even to conceal the superficial pleasure\nafforded her by the young man's very obvious admiration. She wanted to\nstop it, but she did not know what to do. Whatever she did she knew\nwould be observed by her husband, and the worst interpretation put on\nit. And, in fact, when she asked Dolly what was wrong with Masha, and\nVassenka, waiting till this uninteresting conversation was over, began\nto gaze indifferently at Dolly, the question struck Levin as an\nunnatural and disgusting piece of hypocrisy.\n\n\"What do you say, shall we go and look for mushrooms today?\" said Dolly.\n\n\"By all means, please, and I shall come too,\" said Kitty, and she\nblushed. She wanted from politeness to ask Vassenka whether he would\ncome, and she did not ask him. \"Where are you going, Kostya?\" she asked\nher husband with a guilty face, as he passed by her with a resolute\nstep. This guilty air confirmed all his suspicions.\n\n\"The mechanician came when I was away; I haven't seen him yet,\" he said,\nnot looking at her.\n\nHe went downstairs, but before he had time to leave his study he heard\nhis wife's familiar footsteps running with reckless speed to him.\n\n\"What do you want?\" he said to her shortly. \"We are busy.\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon,\" she said to the German mechanician; \"I want a few\nwords with my husband.\"\n\nThe German would have left the room, but Levin said to him:\n\n\"Don't disturb yourself.\"\n\n\"The train is at three?\" queried the German. \"I mustn't be late.\"\n\nLevin did not answer him, but walked out himself with his wife.\n\n\"Well, what have you to say to me?\" he said to her in French.\n\nHe did not look her in the face, and did not care to see that she in her\ncondition was trembling all over, and had a piteous, crushed look.\n\n\"I ... I want to say that we can't go on like this; that this is\nmisery...\" she said.\n\n\"The servants are here at the sideboard,\" he said angrily; \"don't make a\nscene.\"\n\n\"Well, let's go in here!\"\n\nThey were standing in the passage. Kitty would have gone into the next\nroom, but there the English governess was giving Tanya a lesson.\n\n\"Well, come into the garden.\"\n\nIn the garden they came upon a peasant weeding the path. And no longer\nconsidering that the peasant could see her tear-stained and his agitated\nface, that they looked like people fleeing from some disaster, they went\non with rapid steps, feeling that they must speak out and clear up\nmisunderstandings, must be alone together, and so get rid of the misery\nthey were both feeling.\n\n\"We can't go on like this! It's misery! I am wretched; you are wretched.\nWhat for?\" she said, when they had at last reached a solitary garden\nseat at a turn in the lime tree avenue.\n\n\"But tell me one thing: was there in his tone anything unseemly, not\nnice, humiliatingly horrible?\" he said, standing before her again in the\nsame position with his clenched fists on his chest, as he had stood\nbefore her that night.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said in a shaking voice; \"but, Kostya, surely you see I'm not\nto blame? All the morning I've been trying to take a tone ... but such\npeople.... Why did he come? How happy we were!\" she said, breathless\nwith the sobs that shook her.\n\nAlthough nothing had been pursuing them, and there was nothing to run\naway from, and they could not possibly have found anything very\ndelightful on that garden seat, the gardener saw with astonishment that\nthey passed him on their way home with comforted and radiant faces.\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\n\nAfter escorting his wife upstairs, Levin went to Dolly's part of the\nhouse. Darya Alexandrovna, for her part, was in great distress too that\nday. She was walking about the room, talking angrily to a little girl,\nwho stood in the corner roaring.\n\n\"And you shall stand all day in the corner, and have your dinner all\nalone, and not see one of your dolls, and I won't make you a new frock,\"\nshe said, not knowing how to punish her.\n\n\"Oh, she is a disgusting child!\" she turned to Levin. \"Where does she\nget such wicked propensities?\"\n\n\"Why, what has she done?\" Levin said without much interest, for he had\nwanted to ask her advice, and so was annoyed that he had come at an\nunlucky moment.\n\n\"Grisha and she went into the raspberries, and there ... I can't tell\nyou really what she did. It's a thousand pities Miss Elliot's not with\nus. This one sees to nothing--she's a machine.... _Figurez-vous que la\npetite_?...\"\n\nAnd Darya Alexandrovna described Masha's crime.\n\n\"That proves nothing; it's not a question of evil propensities at all,\nit's simply mischief,\" Levin assured her.\n\n\"But you are upset about something? What have you come for?\" asked\nDolly. \"What's going on there?\"\n\nAnd in the tone of her question Levin heard that it would be easy for\nhim to say what he had meant to say.\n\n\"I've not been in there, I've been alone in the garden with Kitty. We've\nhad a quarrel for the second time since ... Stiva came.\"\n\nDolly looked at him with her shrewd, comprehending eyes.\n\n\"Come, tell me, honor bright, has there been ... not in Kitty, but in\nthat gentleman's behavior, a tone which might be unpleasant--not\nunpleasant, but horrible, offensive to a husband?\"\n\n\"You mean, how shall I say.... Stay, stay in the corner!\" she said to\nMasha, who, detecting a faint smile in her mother's face, had been\nturning round. \"The opinion of the world would be that he is behaving as\nyoung men do behave. _Il fait la cour a une jeune et jolie femme_, and a\nhusband who's a man of the world should only be flattered by it.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Levin gloomily; \"but you noticed it?\"\n\n\"Not only I, but Stiva noticed it. Just after breakfast he said to me in\nso many words, _Je crois que Veslovsky fait un petit brin de cour a\nKitty_.\"\n\n\"Well, that's all right then; now I'm satisfied. I'll send him away,\"\nsaid Levin.\n\n\"What do you mean! Are you crazy?\" Dolly cried in horror; \"nonsense,\nKostya, only think!\" she said, laughing. \"You can go now to Fanny,\" she\nsaid to Masha. \"No, if you wish it, I'll speak to Stiva. He'll take him\naway. He can say you're expecting visitors. Altogether he doesn't fit\ninto the house.\"\n\n\"No, no, I'll do it myself.\"\n\n\"But you'll quarrel with him?\"\n\n\"Not a bit. I shall so enjoy it,\" Levin said, his eyes flashing with\nreal enjoyment. \"Come, forgive her, Dolly, she won't do it again,\" he\nsaid of the little sinner, who had not gone to Fanny, but was standing\nirresolutely before her mother, waiting and looking up from under her\nbrows to catch her mother's eye.\n\nThe mother glanced at her. The child broke into sobs, hid her face on\nher mother's lap, and Dolly laid her thin, tender hand on her head.\n\n\"And what is there in common between us and him?\" thought Levin, and he\nwent off to look for Veslovsky.\n\nAs he passed through the passage he gave orders for the carriage to be\ngot ready to drive to the station.\n\n\"The spring was broken yesterday,\" said the footman.\n\n\"Well, the covered trap, then, and make haste. Where's the visitor?\"\n\n\"The gentleman's gone to his room.\"\n\nLevin came upon Veslovsky at the moment when the latter, having unpacked\nhis things from his trunk, and laid out some new songs, was putting on\nhis gaiters to go out riding.\n\nWhether there was something exceptional in Levin's face, or that\nVassenka was himself conscious that _ce petit brin de cour_ he was\nmaking was out of place in this family, but he was somewhat (as much as\na young man in society can be) disconcerted at Levin's entrance.\n\n\"You ride in gaiters?\"\n\n\"Yes, it's much cleaner,\" said Vassenka, putting his fat leg on a chair,\nfastening the bottom hook, and smiling with simple-hearted good humor.\n\nHe was undoubtedly a good-natured fellow, and Levin felt sorry for him\nand ashamed of himself, as his host, when he saw the shy look on\nVassenka's face.\n\nOn the table lay a piece of stick which they had broken together that\nmorning, trying their strength. Levin took the fragment in his hands and\nbegan smashing it up, breaking bits off the stick, not knowing how to\nbegin.\n\n\"I wanted....\" He paused, but suddenly, remembering Kitty and everything\nthat had happened, he said, looking him resolutely in the face: \"I have\nordered the horses to be put-to for you.\"\n\n\"How so?\" Vassenka began in surprise. \"To drive where?\"\n\n\"For you to drive to the station,\" Levin said gloomily.\n\n\"Are you going away, or has something happened?\"\n\n\"It happens that I expect visitors,\" said Levin, his strong fingers more\nand more rapidly breaking off the ends of the split stick. \"And I'm not\nexpecting visitors, and nothing has happened, but I beg you to go away.\nYou can explain my rudeness as you like.\"\n\nVassenka drew himself up.\n\n\"I beg you to explain...\" he said with dignity, understanding at last.\n\n\"I can't explain,\" Levin said softly and deliberately, trying to control\nthe trembling of his jaw; \"and you'd better not ask.\"\n\nAnd as the split ends were all broken off, Levin clutched the thick ends\nin his finger, broke the stick in two, and carefully caught the end as\nit fell.\n\nProbably the sight of those nervous fingers, of the muscles he had\nproved that morning at gymnastics, of the glittering eyes, the soft\nvoice, and quivering jaws, convinced Vassenka better than any words. He\nbowed, shrugging his shoulders, and smiling contemptuously.\n\n\"Can I not see Oblonsky?\"\n\nThe shrug and the smile did not irritate Levin.\n\n\"What else was there for him to do?\" he thought.\n\n\"I'll send him to you at once.\"\n\n\"What madness is this?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said when, after hearing\nfrom his friend that he was being turned out of the house, he found\nLevin in the garden, where he was walking about waiting for his guest's\ndeparture. \"_Mais c'est ridicule!_ What fly has stung you? _Mais c'est\ndu dernier ridicule!_ What did you think, if a young man...\"\n\nBut the place where Levin had been stung was evidently still sore, for\nhe turned pale again, when Stepan Arkadyevitch would have enlarged on\nthe reason, and he himself cut him short.\n\n\"Please don't go into it! I can't help it. I feel ashamed of how I'm\ntreating you and him. But it won't be, I imagine, a great grief to him\nto go, and his presence was distasteful to me and to my wife.\"\n\n\"But it's insulting to him! _Et puis c'est ridicule_.\"\n\n\"And to me it's both insulting and distressing! And I'm not at fault in\nany way, and there's no need for me to suffer.\"\n\n\"Well, this I didn't expect of you! _On peut etre jaloux, mais a ce\npoint, c'est du dernier ridicule!_\"\n\nLevin turned quickly, and walked away from him into the depths of the\navenue, and he went on walking up and down alone. Soon he heard the\nrumble of the trap, and saw from behind the trees how Vassenka, sitting\nin the hay (unluckily there was no seat in the trap) in his Scotch cap,\nwas driven along the avenue, jolting up and down over the ruts.\n\n\"What's this?\" Levin thought, when a footman ran out of the house and\nstopped the trap. It was the mechanician, whom Levin had totally\nforgotten. The mechanician, bowing low, said something to Veslovsky,\nthen clambered into the trap, and they drove off together.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch and the princess were much upset by Levin's action.\nAnd he himself felt not only in the highest degree _ridicule_, but also\nutterly guilty and disgraced. But remembering what sufferings he and his\nwife had been through, when he asked himself how he should act another\ntime, he answered that he should do just the same again.\n\nIn spite of all this, towards the end of that day, everyone except the\nprincess, who could not pardon Levin's action, became extraordinarily\nlively and good humored, like children after a punishment or grown-up\npeople after a dreary, ceremonious reception, so that by the evening\nVassenka's dismissal was spoken of, in the absence of the princess, as\nthough it were some remote event. And Dolly, who had inherited her\nfather's gift of humorous storytelling, made Varenka helpless with\nlaughter as she related for the third and fourth time, always with fresh\nhumorous additions, how she had only just put on her new shoes for the\nbenefit of the visitor, and on going into the drawing room, heard\nsuddenly the rumble of the trap. And who should be in the trap but\nVassenka himself, with his Scotch cap, and his songs and his gaiters,\nand all, sitting in the hay.\n\n\"If only you'd ordered out the carriage! But no! and then I hear:\n'Stop!' Oh, I thought they've relented. I look out, and behold a fat\nGerman being sat down by him and driving away.... And my new shoes all\nfor nothing!...\"\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\n\nDarya Alexandrovna carried out her intention and went to see Anna. She\nwas sorry to annoy her sister and to do anything Levin disliked. She\nquite understood how right the Levins were in not wishing to have\nanything to do with Vronsky. But she felt she must go and see Anna, and\nshow her that her feelings could not be changed, in spite of the change\nin her position. That she might be independent of the Levins in this\nexpedition, Darya Alexandrovna sent to the village to hire horses for\nthe drive; but Levin learning of it went to her to protest.\n\n\"What makes you suppose that I dislike your going? But, even if I did\ndislike it, I should still more dislike your not taking my horses,\" he\nsaid. \"You never told me that you were going for certain. Hiring horses\nin the village is disagreeable to me, and, what's of more importance,\nthey'll undertake the job and never get you there. I have horses. And if\nyou don't want to wound me, you'll take mine.\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna had to consent, and on the day fixed Levin had ready\nfor his sister-in-law a set of four horses and relays, getting them\ntogether from the farm- and saddle-horses--not at all a smart-looking\nset, but capable of taking Darya Alexandrovna the whole distance in a\nsingle day. At that moment, when horses were wanted for the princess,\nwho was going, and for the midwife, it was a difficult matter for Levin\nto make up the number, but the duties of hospitality would not let him\nallow Darya Alexandrovna to hire horses when staying in his house.\nMoreover, he was well aware that the twenty roubles that would be asked\nfor the journey were a serious matter for her; Darya Alexandrovna's\npecuniary affairs, which were in a very unsatisfactory state, were taken\nto heart by the Levins as if they were their own.\n\nDarya Alexandrovna, by Levin's advice, started before daybreak. The road\nwas good, the carriage comfortable, the horses trotted along merrily,\nand on the box, besides the coachman, sat the counting-house clerk, whom\nLevin was sending instead of a groom for greater security. Darya\nAlexandrovna dozed and waked up only on reaching the inn where the\nhorses were to be changed.\n\nAfter drinking tea at the same well-to-do peasant's with whom Levin had\nstayed on the way to Sviazhsky's, and chatting with the women about\ntheir children, and with the old man about Count Vronsky, whom the\nlatter praised very highly, Darya Alexandrovna, at ten o'clock, went on\nagain. At home, looking after her children, she had no time to think. So\nnow, after this journey of four hours, all the thoughts she had\nsuppressed before rushed swarming into her brain, and she thought over\nall her life as she never had before, and from the most different points\nof view. Her thoughts seemed strange even to herself. At first she\nthought about the children, about whom she was uneasy, although the\nprincess and Kitty (she reckoned more upon her) had promised to look\nafter them. \"If only Masha does not begin her naughty tricks, if Grisha\nisn't kicked by a horse, and Lily's stomach isn't upset again!\" she\nthought. But these questions of the present were succeeded by questions\nof the immediate future. She began thinking how she had to get a new\nflat in Moscow for the coming winter, to renew the drawing room\nfurniture, and to make her elder girl a cloak. Then questions of the\nmore remote future occurred to her: how she was to place her children in\nthe world. \"The girls are all right,\" she thought; \"but the boys?\"\n\n\"It's very well that I'm teaching Grisha, but of course that's only\nbecause I am free myself now, I'm not with child. Stiva, of course,\nthere's no counting on. And with the help of good-natured friends I can\nbring them up; but if there's another baby coming?...\" And the thought\nstruck her how untruly it was said that the curse laid on woman was that\nin sorrow she should bring forth children.\n\n\"The birth itself, that's nothing; but the months of carrying the\nchild--that's what's so intolerable,\" she thought, picturing to herself\nher last pregnancy, and the death of the last baby. And she recalled the\nconversation she had just had with the young woman at the inn. On being\nasked whether she had any children, the handsome young woman had\nanswered cheerfully:\n\n\"I had a girl baby, but God set me free; I buried her last Lent.\"\n\n\"Well, did you grieve very much for her?\" asked Darya Alexandrovna.\n\n\"Why grieve? The old man has grandchildren enough as it is. It was only\na trouble. No working, nor nothing. Only a tie.\"\n\nThis answer had struck Darya Alexandrovna as revolting in spite of the\ngood-natured and pleasing face of the young woman; but now she could not\nhelp recalling these words. In those cynical words there was indeed a\ngrain of truth.\n\n\"Yes, altogether,\" thought Darya Alexandrovna, looking back over her\nwhole existence during those fifteen years of her married life,\n\"pregnancy, sickness, mental incapacity, indifference to everything, and\nmost of all--hideousness. Kitty, young and pretty as she is, even Kitty\nhas lost her looks; and I when I'm with child become hideous, I know it.\nThe birth, the agony, the hideous agonies, that last moment ... then the\nnursing, the sleepless nights, the fearful pains....\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna shuddered at the mere recollection of the pain from\nsore breasts which she had suffered with almost every child. \"Then the\nchildren's illnesses, that everlasting apprehension; then bringing them\nup; evil propensities\" (she thought of little Masha's crime among the\nraspberries), \"education, Latin--it's all so incomprehensible and\ndifficult. And on the top of it all, the death of these children.\" And\nthere rose again before her imagination the cruel memory, that always\ntore her mother's heart, of the death of her last little baby, who had\ndied of croup; his funeral, the callous indifference of all at the\nlittle pink coffin, and her own torn heart, and her lonely anguish at\nthe sight of the pale little brow with its projecting temples, and the\nopen, wondering little mouth seen in the coffin at the moment when it\nwas being covered with the little pink lid with a cross braided on it.\n\n\"And all this, what's it for? What is to come of it all? That I'm\nwasting my life, never having a moment's peace, either with child, or\nnursing a child, forever irritable, peevish, wretched myself and\nworrying others, repulsive to my husband, while the children are growing\nup unhappy, badly educated, and penniless. Even now, if it weren't for\nspending the summer at the Levins', I don't know how we should be\nmanaging to live. Of course Kostya and Kitty have so much tact that we\ndon't feel it; but it can't go on. They'll have children, they won't be\nable to keep us; it's a drag on them as it is. How is papa, who has\nhardly anything left for himself, to help us? So that I can't even bring\nthe children up by myself, and may find it hard with the help of other\npeople, at the cost of humiliation. Why, even if we suppose the greatest\ngood luck, that the children don't die, and I bring them up somehow. At\nthe very best they'll simply be decent people. That's all I can hope\nfor. And to gain simply that--what agonies, what toil!... One's whole\nlife ruined!\" Again she recalled what the young peasant woman had said,\nand again she was revolted at the thought; but she could not help\nadmitting that there was a grain of brutal truth in the words.\n\n\"Is it far now, Mihail?\" Darya Alexandrovna asked the counting house\nclerk, to turn her mind from thoughts that were frightening her.\n\n\"From this village, they say, it's five miles.\" The carriage drove along\nthe village street and onto a bridge. On the bridge was a crowd of\npeasant women with coils of ties for the sheaves on their shoulders,\ngaily and noisily chattering. They stood still on the bridge, staring\ninquisitively at the carriage. All the faces turned to Darya\nAlexandrovna looked to her healthy and happy, making her envious of\ntheir enjoyment of life. \"They're all living, they're all enjoying\nlife,\" Darya Alexandrovna still mused when she had passed the peasant\nwomen and was driving uphill again at a trot, seated comfortably on the\nsoft springs of the old carriage, \"while I, let out, as it were from\nprison, from the world of worries that fret me to death, am only looking\nabout me now for an instant. They all live; those peasant women and my\nsister Natalia and Varenka and Anna, whom I am going to see--all, but\nnot I.\n\n\"And they attack Anna. What for? am I any better? I have, anyway, a\nhusband I love--not as I should like to love him, still I do love him,\nwhile Anna never loved hers. How is she to blame? She wants to live. God\nhas put that in our hearts. Very likely I should have done the same.\nEven to this day I don't feel sure I did right in listening to her at\nthat terrible time when she came to me in Moscow. I ought then to have\ncast off my husband and have begun my life fresh. I might have loved and\nhave been loved in reality. And is it any better as it is? I don't\nrespect him. He's necessary to me,\" she thought about her husband, \"and\nI put up with him. Is that any better? At that time I could still have\nbeen admired, I had beauty left me still,\" Darya Alexandrovna pursued\nher thoughts, and she would have liked to look at herself in the looking\nglass. She had a traveling looking glass in her handbag, and she wanted\nto take it out; but looking at the backs of the coachman and the swaying\ncounting house clerk, she felt that she would be ashamed if either of\nthem were to look round, and she did not take out the glass.\n\nBut without looking in the glass, she thought that even now it was not\ntoo late; and she thought of Sergey Ivanovitch, who was always\nparticularly attentive to her, of Stiva's good-hearted friend,\nTurovtsin, who had helped her nurse her children through the scarlatina,\nand was in love with her. And there was someone else, a quite young man,\nwho--her husband had told her it as a joke--thought her more beautiful\nthan either of her sisters. And the most passionate and impossible\nromances rose before Darya Alexandrovna's imagination. \"Anna did quite\nright, and certainly I shall never reproach her for it. She is happy,\nshe makes another person happy, and she's not broken down as I am, but\nmost likely just as she always was, bright, clever, open to every\nimpression,\" thought Darya Alexandrovna,--and a sly smile curved her\nlips, for, as she pondered on Anna's love affair, Darya Alexandrovna\nconstructed on parallel lines an almost identical love affair for\nherself, with an imaginary composite figure, the ideal man who was in\nlove with her. She, like Anna, confessed the whole affair to her\nhusband. And the amazement and perplexity of Stepan Arkadyevitch at this\navowal made her smile.\n\nIn such daydreams she reached the turning of the highroad that led to\nVozdvizhenskoe.\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\n\nThe coachman pulled up his four horses and looked round to the right, to\na field of rye, where some peasants were sitting on a cart. The counting\nhouse clerk was just going to jump down, but on second thoughts he\nshouted peremptorily to the peasants instead, and beckoned to them to\ncome up. The wind, that seemed to blow as they drove, dropped when the\ncarriage stood still; gadflies settled on the steaming horses that\nangrily shook them off. The metallic clank of a whetstone against a\nscythe, that came to them from the cart, ceased. One of the peasants got\nup and came towards the carriage.\n\n\"Well, you are slow!\" the counting house clerk shouted angrily to the\npeasant who was stepping slowly with his bare feet over the ruts of the\nrough dry road. \"Come along, do!\"\n\nA curly-headed old man with a bit of bast tied round his hair, and his\nbent back dark with perspiration, came towards the carriage, quickening\nhis steps, and took hold of the mud-guard with his sunburnt hand.\n\n\"Vozdvizhenskoe, the manor house? the count's?\" he repeated; \"go on to\nthe end of this track. Then turn to the left. Straight along the avenue\nand you'll come right upon it. But whom do you want? The count himself?\"\n\n\"Well, are they at home, my good man?\" Darya Alexandrovna said vaguely,\nnot knowing how to ask about Anna, even of this peasant.\n\n\"At home for sure,\" said the peasant, shifting from one bare foot to the\nother, and leaving a distinct print of five toes and a heel in the dust.\n\"Sure to be at home,\" he repeated, evidently eager to talk. \"Only\nyesterday visitors arrived. There's a sight of visitors come. What do\nyou want?\" He turned round and called to a lad, who was shouting\nsomething to him from the cart. \"Oh! They all rode by here not long\nsince, to look at a reaping machine. They'll be home by now. And who\nwill you be belonging to?...\"\n\n\"We've come a long way,\" said the coachman, climbing onto the box. \"So\nit's not far?\"\n\n\"I tell you, it's just here. As soon as you get out...\" he said, keeping\nhold all the while of the carriage.\n\nA healthy-looking, broad-shouldered young fellow came up too.\n\n\"What, is it laborers they want for the harvest?\" he asked.\n\n\"I don't know, my boy.\"\n\n\"So you keep to the left, and you'll come right on it,\" said the\npeasant, unmistakably loth to let the travelers go, and eager to\nconverse.\n\nThe coachman started the horses, but they were only just turning off\nwhen the peasant shouted: \"Stop! Hi, friend! Stop!\" called the two\nvoices. The coachman stopped.\n\n\"They're coming! They're yonder!\" shouted the peasant. \"See what a\nturn-out!\" he said, pointing to four persons on horseback, and two in a\n_char-a-banc_, coming along the road.\n\nThey were Vronsky with a jockey, Veslovsky and Anna on horseback, and\nPrincess Varvara and Sviazhsky in the _char-a-banc_. They had gone out\nto look at the working of a new reaping machine.\n\nWhen the carriage stopped, the party on horseback were coming at a\nwalking pace. Anna was in front beside Veslovsky. Anna, quietly walking\nher horse, a sturdy English cob with cropped mane and short tail, her\nbeautiful head with her black hair straying loose under her high hat,\nher full shoulders, her slender waist in her black riding habit, and all\nthe ease and grace of her deportment, impressed Dolly.\n\nFor the first minute it seemed to her unsuitable for Anna to be on\nhorseback. The conception of riding on horseback for a lady was, in\nDarya Alexandrovna's mind, associated with ideas of youthful flirtation\nand frivolity, which, in her opinion, was unbecoming in Anna's position.\nBut when she had scrutinized her, seeing her closer, she was at once\nreconciled to her riding. In spite of her elegance, everything was so\nsimple, quiet, and dignified in the attitude, the dress and the\nmovements of Anna, that nothing could have been more natural.\n\nBeside Anna, on a hot-looking gray cavalry horse, was Vassenka Veslovsky\nin his Scotch cap with floating ribbons, his stout legs stretched out in\nfront, obviously pleased with his own appearance. Darya Alexandrovna\ncould not suppress a good-humored smile as she recognized him. Behind\nrode Vronsky on a dark bay mare, obviously heated from galloping. He was\nholding her in, pulling at the reins.\n\nAfter him rode a little man in the dress of a jockey. Sviazhsky and\nPrincess Varvara in a new _char-a-banc_ with a big, raven-black trotting\nhorse, overtook the party on horseback.\n\nAnna's face suddenly beamed with a joyful smile at the instant when, in\nthe little figure huddled in a corner of the old carriage, she\nrecognized Dolly. She uttered a cry, started in the saddle, and set her\nhorse into a gallop. On reaching the carriage she jumped off without\nassistance, and holding up her riding habit, she ran up to greet Dolly.\n\n\"I thought it was you and dared not think it. How delightful! You can't\nfancy how glad I am!\" she said, at one moment pressing her face against\nDolly and kissing her, and at the next holding her off and examining her\nwith a smile.\n\n\"Here's a delightful surprise, Alexey!\" she said, looking round at\nVronsky, who had dismounted, and was walking towards them.\n\nVronsky, taking off his tall gray hat, went up to Dolly.\n\n\"You wouldn't believe how glad we are to see you,\" he said, giving\npeculiar significance to the words, and showing his strong white teeth\nin a smile.\n\nVassenka Veslovsky, without getting off his horse, took off his cap and\ngreeted the visitor by gleefully waving the ribbons over his head.\n\n\"That's Princess Varvara,\" Anna said in reply to a glance of inquiry\nfrom Dolly as the _char-a-banc_ drove up.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Darya Alexandrovna, and unconsciously her face betrayed her\ndissatisfaction.\n\nPrincess Varvara was her husband's aunt, and she had long known her, and\ndid not respect her. She knew that Princess Varvara had passed her whole\nlife toadying on her rich relations, but that she should now be sponging\non Vronsky, a man who was nothing to her, mortified Dolly on account of\nher kinship with her husband. Anna noticed Dolly's expression, and was\ndisconcerted by it. She blushed, dropped her riding habit, and stumbled\nover it.\n\nDarya Alexandrovna went up to the _char-a-banc_ and coldly greeted\nPrincess Varvara. Sviazhsky too she knew. He inquired how his queer\nfriend with the young wife was, and running his eyes over the\nill-matched horses and the carriage with its patched mud-guards,\nproposed to the ladies that they should get into the _char-a-banc_.\n\n\"And I'll get into this vehicle,\" he said. \"The horse is quiet, and the\nprincess drives capitally.\"\n\n\"No, stay as you were,\" said Anna, coming up, \"and we'll go in the\ncarriage,\" and taking Dolly's arm, she drew her away.\n\nDarya Alexandrovna's eyes were fairly dazzled by the elegant carriage of\na pattern she had never seen before, the splendid horses, and the\nelegant and gorgeous people surrounding her. But what struck her most of\nall was the change that had taken place in Anna, whom she knew so well\nand loved. Any other woman, a less close observer, not knowing Anna\nbefore, or not having thought as Darya Alexandrovna had been thinking on\nthe road, would not have noticed anything special in Anna. But now Dolly\nwas struck by that temporary beauty, which is only found in women during\nthe moments of love, and which she saw now in Anna's face. Everything in\nher face, the clearly marked dimples in her cheeks and chin, the line of\nher lips, the smile which, as it were, fluttered about her face, the\nbrilliance of her eyes, the grace and rapidity of her movements, the\nfulness of the notes of her voice, even the manner in which, with a sort\nof angry friendliness, she answered Veslovsky when he asked permission\nto get on her cob, so as to teach it to gallop with the right leg\nforemost--it was all peculiarly fascinating, and it seemed as if she\nwere herself aware of it, and rejoicing in it.\n\nWhen both the women were seated in the carriage, a sudden embarrassment\ncame over both of them. Anna was disconcerted by the intent look of\ninquiry Dolly fixed upon her. Dolly was embarrassed because after\nSviazhsky's phrase about \"this vehicle,\" she could not help feeling\nashamed of the dirty old carriage in which Anna was sitting with her.\nThe coachman Philip and the counting house clerk were experiencing the\nsame sensation. The counting house clerk, to conceal his confusion,\nbusied himself settling the ladies, but Philip the coachman became\nsullen, and was bracing himself not to be overawed in future by this\nexternal superiority. He smiled ironically, looking at the raven horse,\nand was already deciding in his own mind that this smart trotter in the\n_char-a-banc_ was only good for _promenade_, and wouldn't do thirty\nmiles straight off in the heat.\n\nThe peasants had all got up from the cart and were inquisitively and\nmirthfully staring at the meeting of the friends, making their comments\non it.\n\n\"They're pleased, too; haven't seen each other for a long while,\" said\nthe curly-headed old man with the bast round his hair.\n\n\"I say, Uncle Gerasim, if we could take that raven horse now, to cart\nthe corn, that 'ud be quick work!\"\n\n\"Look-ee! Is that a woman in breeches?\" said one of them, pointing to\nVassenka Veslovsky sitting in a side saddle.\n\n\"Nay, a man! See how smartly he's going it!\"\n\n\"Eh, lads! seems we're not going to sleep, then?\"\n\n\"What chance of sleep today!\" said the old man, with a sidelong look at\nthe sun. \"Midday's past, look-ee! Get your hooks, and come along!\"\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\n\nAnna looked at Dolly's thin, care-worn face, with its wrinkles filled\nwith dust from the road, and she was on the point of saying what she was\nthinking, that is, that Dolly had got thinner. But, conscious that she\nherself had grown handsomer, and that Dolly's eyes were telling her so,\nshe sighed and began to speak about herself.\n\n\"You are looking at me,\" she said, \"and wondering how I can be happy in\nmy position? Well! it's shameful to confess, but I ... I'm inexcusably\nhappy. Something magical has happened to me, like a dream, when you're\nfrightened, panic-stricken, and all of a sudden you wake up and all the\nhorrors are no more. I have waked up. I have lived through the misery,\nthe dread, and now for a long while past, especially since we've been\nhere, I've been so happy!...\" she said, with a timid smile of inquiry\nlooking at Dolly.\n\n\"How glad I am!\" said Dolly smiling, involuntarily speaking more coldly\nthan she wanted to. \"I'm very glad for you. Why haven't you written to\nme?\"\n\n\"Why?... Because I hadn't the courage.... You forget my position...\"\n\n\"To me? Hadn't the courage? If you knew how I ... I look at...\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna wanted to express her thoughts of the morning, but\nfor some reason it seemed to her now out of place to do so.\n\n\"But of that we'll talk later. What's this, what are all these\nbuildings?\" she asked, wanting to change the conversation and pointing\nto the red and green roofs that came into view behind the green hedges\nof acacia and lilac. \"Quite a little town.\"\n\nBut Anna did not answer.\n\n\"No, no! How do you look at my position, what do you think of it?\" she\nasked.\n\n\"I consider...\" Darya Alexandrovna was beginning, but at that instant\nVassenka Veslovsky, having brought the cob to gallop with the right leg\nforemost, galloped past them, bumping heavily up and down in his short\njacket on the chamois leather of the side saddle. \"He's doing it, Anna\nArkadyevna!\" he shouted.\n\nAnna did not even glance at him; but again it seemed to Darya\nAlexandrovna out of place to enter upon such a long conversation in the\ncarriage, and so she cut short her thought.\n\n\"I don't think anything,\" she said, \"but I always loved you, and if one\nloves anyone, one loves the whole person, just as they are and not as\none would like them to be....\"\n\nAnna, taking her eyes off her friend's face and dropping her eyelids\n(this was a new habit Dolly had not seen in her before), pondered,\ntrying to penetrate the full significance of the words. And obviously\ninterpreting them as she would have wished, she glanced at Dolly.\n\n\"If you had any sins,\" she said, \"they would all be forgiven you for\nyour coming to see me and these words.\"\n\nAnd Dolly saw that tears stood in her eyes. She pressed Anna's hand in\nsilence.\n\n\"Well, what are these buildings? How many there are of them!\" After a\nmoment's silence she repeated her question.\n\n\"These are the servants' houses, barns, and stables,\" answered Anna.\n\"And there the park begins. It had all gone to ruin, but Alexey had\neverything renewed. He is very fond of this place, and, what I never\nexpected, he has become intensely interested in looking after it. But\nhis is such a rich nature! Whatever he takes up, he does splendidly. So\nfar from being bored by it, he works with passionate interest. He--with\nhis temperament as I know it--he has become careful and businesslike, a\nfirst-rate manager, he positively reckons every penny in his management\nof the land. But only in that. When it's a question of tens of\nthousands, he doesn't think of money.\" She spoke with that gleefully sly\nsmile with which women often talk of the secret characteristics only\nknown to them--of those they love. \"Do you see that big building? that's\nthe new hospital. I believe it will cost over a hundred thousand; that's\nhis hobby just now. And do you know how it all came about? The peasants\nasked him for some meadowland, I think it was, at a cheaper rate, and he\nrefused, and I accused him of being miserly. Of course it was not really\nbecause of that, but everything together, he began this hospital to\nprove, do you see, that he was not miserly about money. _C'est une\npetitesse_, if you like, but I love him all the more for it. And now\nyou'll see the house in a moment. It was his grandfather's house, and he\nhas had nothing changed outside.\"\n\n\"How beautiful!\" said Dolly, looking with involuntary admiration at the\nhandsome house with columns, standing out among the different-colored\ngreens of the old trees in the garden.\n\n\"Isn't it fine? And from the house, from the top, the view is\nwonderful.\"\n\nThey drove into a courtyard strewn with gravel and bright with flowers,\nin which two laborers were at work putting an edging of stones round the\nlight mould of a flower bed, and drew up in a covered entry.\n\n\"Ah, they're here already!\" said Anna, looking at the saddle horses,\nwhich were just being led away from the steps. \"It is a nice horse,\nisn't it? It's my cob; my favorite. Lead him here and bring me some\nsugar. Where is the count?\" she inquired of two smart footmen who darted\nout. \"Ah, there he is!\" she said, seeing Vronsky coming to meet her with\nVeslovsky.\n\n\"Where are you going to put the princess?\" said Vronsky in French,\naddressing Anna, and without waiting for a reply, he once more greeted\nDarya Alexandrovna, and this time he kissed her hand. \"I think the big\nbalcony room.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, that's too far off! Better in the corner room, we shall see\neach other more. Come, let's go up,\" said Anna, as she gave her favorite\nhorse the sugar the footman had brought her.\n\n\"_Et vous oubliez votre devoir_,\" she said to Veslovsky, who came out\ntoo on the steps.\n\n\"_Pardon, j'en ai tout plein les poches_,\" he answered, smiling, putting\nhis fingers in his waistcoat pocket.\n\n\"_Mais vous venez trop tard_,\" she said, rubbing her handkerchief on her\nhand, which the horse had made wet in taking the sugar.\n\nAnna turned to Dolly. \"You can stay some time? For one day only? That's\nimpossible!\"\n\n\"I promised to be back, and the children...\" said Dolly, feeling\nembarrassed both because she had to get her bag out of the carriage, and\nbecause she knew her face must be covered with dust.\n\n\"No, Dolly, darling!... Well, we'll see. Come along, come along!\" and\nAnna led Dolly to her room.\n\nThat room was not the smart guest chamber Vronsky had suggested, but the\none of which Anna had said that Dolly would excuse it. And this room,\nfor which excuse was needed, was more full of luxury than any in which\nDolly had ever stayed, a luxury that reminded her of the best hotels\nabroad.\n\n\"Well, darling, how happy I am!\" Anna said, sitting down in her riding\nhabit for a moment beside Dolly. \"Tell me about all of you. Stiva I had\nonly a glimpse of, and he cannot tell one about the children. How is my\nfavorite, Tanya? Quite a big girl, I expect?\"\n\n\"Yes, she's very tall,\" Darya Alexandrovna answered shortly, surprised\nherself that she should respond so coolly about her children. \"We are\nhaving a delightful stay at the Levins',\" she added.\n\n\"Oh, if I had known,\" said Anna, \"that you do not despise me!... You\nmight have all come to us. Stiva's an old friend and a great friend of\nAlexey's, you know,\" she added, and suddenly she blushed.\n\n\"Yes, but we are all...\" Dolly answered in confusion.\n\n\"But in my delight I'm talking nonsense. The one thing, darling, is that\nI am so glad to have you!\" said Anna, kissing her again. \"You haven't\ntold me yet how and what you think about me, and I keep wanting to know.\nBut I'm glad you will see me as I am. The chief thing I shouldn't like\nwould be for people to imagine I want to prove anything. I don't want to\nprove anything; I merely want to live, to do no one harm but myself. I\nhave the right to do that, haven't I? But it is a big subject, and we'll\ntalk over everything properly later. Now I'll go and dress and send a\nmaid to you.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\n\nLeft alone, Darya Alexandrovna, with a good housewife's eye, scanned her\nroom. All she had seen in entering the house and walking through it, and\nall she saw now in her room, gave her an impression of wealth and\nsumptuousness and of that modern European luxury of which she had only\nread in English novels, but had never seen in Russia and in the country.\nEverything was new from the new French hangings on the walls to the\ncarpet which covered the whole floor. The bed had a spring mattress, and\na special sort of bolster and silk pillowcases on the little pillows.\nThe marble washstand, the dressing table, the little sofa, the tables,\nthe bronze clock on the chimney piece, the window curtains, and the\n_portieres_ were all new and expensive.\n\nThe smart maid, who came in to offer her services, with her hair done up\nhigh, and a gown more fashionable than Dolly's, was as new and expensive\nas the whole room. Darya Alexandrovna liked her neatness, her\ndeferential and obliging manners, but she felt ill at ease with her. She\nfelt ashamed of her seeing the patched dressing jacket that had\nunluckily been packed by mistake for her. She was ashamed of the very\npatches and darned places of which she had been so proud at home. At\nhome it had been so clear that for six dressing jackets there would be\nneeded twenty-four yards of nainsook at sixteen pence the yard, which\nwas a matter of thirty shillings besides the cutting-out and making, and\nthese thirty shillings had been saved. But before the maid she felt, if\nnot exactly ashamed, at least uncomfortable.\n\nDarya Alexandrovna had a great sense of relief when Annushka, whom she\nhad known for years, walked in. The smart maid was sent for to go to her\nmistress, and Annushka remained with Darya Alexandrovna.\n\nAnnushka was obviously much pleased at that lady's arrival, and began to\nchatter away without a pause. Dolly observed that she was longing to\nexpress her opinion in regard to her mistress's position, especially as\nto the love and devotion of the count to Anna Arkadyevna, but Dolly\ncarefully interrupted her whenever she began to speak about this.\n\n\"I grew up with Anna Arkadyevna; my lady's dearer to me than anything.\nWell, it's not for us to judge. And, to be sure, there seems so much\nlove...\"\n\n\"Kindly pour out the water for me to wash now, please,\" Darya\nAlexandrovna cut her short.\n\n\"Certainly. We've two women kept specially for washing small things, but\nmost of the linen's done by machinery. The count goes into everything\nhimself. Ah, what a husband!...\"\n\nDolly was glad when Anna came in, and by her entrance put a stop to\nAnnushka's gossip.\n\nAnna had put on a very simple batiste gown. Dolly scrutinized that\nsimple gown attentively. She knew what it meant, and the price at which\nsuch simplicity was obtained.\n\n\"An old friend,\" said Anna of Annushka.\n\nAnna was not embarrassed now. She was perfectly composed and at ease.\nDolly saw that she had now completely recovered from the impression her\narrival had made on her, and had assumed that superficial, careless tone\nwhich, as it were, closed the door on that compartment in which her\ndeeper feelings and ideas were kept.\n\n\"Well, Anna, and how is your little girl?\" asked Dolly.\n\n\"Annie?\" (This was what she called her little daughter Anna.) \"Very\nwell. She has got on wonderfully. Would you like to see her? Come, I'll\nshow her to you. We had a terrible bother,\" she began telling her, \"over\nnurses. We had an Italian wet-nurse. A good creature, but so stupid! We\nwanted to get rid of her, but the baby is so used to her that we've gone\non keeping her still.\"\n\n\"But how have you managed?...\" Dolly was beginning a question as to what\nname the little girl would have; but noticing a sudden frown on Anna's\nface, she changed the drift of her question.\n\n\"How did you manage? have you weaned her yet?\"\n\nBut Anna had understood.\n\n\"You didn't mean to ask that? You meant to ask about her surname. Yes?\nThat worries Alexey. She has no name--that is, she's a Karenina,\" said\nAnna, dropping her eyelids till nothing could be seen but the eyelashes\nmeeting. \"But we'll talk about all that later,\" her face suddenly\nbrightening. \"Come, I'll show you her. _Elle est tres gentille_. She\ncrawls now.\"\n\nIn the nursery the luxury which had impressed Dolly in the whole house\nstruck her still more. There were little go-carts ordered from England,\nand appliances for learning to walk, and a sofa after the fashion of a\nbilliard table, purposely constructed for crawling, and swings and\nbaths, all of special pattern, and modern. They were all English, solid,\nand of good make, and obviously very expensive. The room was large, and\nvery light and lofty.\n\nWhen they went in, the baby, with nothing on but her little smock, was\nsitting in a little elbow chair at the table, having her dinner of\nbroth, which she was spilling all over her little chest. The baby was\nbeing fed, and the Russian nursery maid was evidently sharing her meal.\nNeither the wet-nurse nor the head nurse were there; they were in the\nnext room, from which came the sound of their conversation in the queer\nFrench which was their only means of communication.\n\nHearing Anna's voice, a smart, tall, English nurse with a disagreeable\nface and a dissolute expression walked in at the door, hurriedly shaking\nher fair curls, and immediately began to defend herself though Anna had\nnot found fault with her. At every word Anna said, the English nurse\nsaid hurriedly several times, \"Yes, my lady.\"\n\nThe rosy baby with her black eyebrows and hair, her sturdy red little\nbody with tight goose-flesh skin, delighted Darya Alexandrovna in spite\nof the cross expression with which she stared at the stranger. She\npositively envied the baby's healthy appearance. She was delighted, too,\nat the baby's crawling. Not one of her own children had crawled like\nthat. When the baby was put on the carpet and its little dress tucked up\nbehind, it was wonderfully charming. Looking round like some little wild\nanimal at the grown-up big people with her bright black eyes, she\nsmiled, unmistakably pleased at their admiring her, and holding her legs\nsideways, she pressed vigorously on her arms, and rapidly drew her whole\nback up after, and then made another step forward with her little arms.\n\nBut the whole atmosphere of the nursery, and especially the English\nnurse, Darya Alexandrovna did not like at all. It was only on the\nsupposition that no good nurse would have entered so irregular a\nhousehold as Anna's that Darya Alexandrovna could explain to herself how\nAnna with her insight into people could take such an unprepossessing,\ndisreputable-looking woman as nurse to her child.\n\nBesides, from a few words that were dropped, Darya Alexandrovna saw at\nonce that Anna, the two nurses, and the child had no common existence,\nand that the mother's visit was something exceptional. Anna wanted to\nget the baby her plaything, and could not find it.\n\nMost amazing of all was the fact that on being asked how many teeth the\nbaby had, Anna answered wrong, and knew nothing about the two last\nteeth.\n\n\"I sometimes feel sorry I'm so superfluous here,\" said Anna, going out\nof the nursery and holding up her skirt so as to escape the plaything\nstanding in the doorway. \"It was very different with my first child.\"\n\n\"I expected it to be the other way,\" said Darya Alexandrovna shyly.\n\n\"Oh, no! By the way, do you know I saw Seryozha?\" said Anna, screwing up\nher eyes, as though looking at something far away. \"But we'll talk about\nthat later. You wouldn't believe it, I'm like a hungry beggar woman when\na full dinner is set before her, and she does not know what to begin on\nfirst. The dinner is you, and the talks I have before me with you, which\nI could never have with anyone else; and I don't know which subject to\nbegin upon first. _Mais je ne vous ferai grace de rien_. I must have\neverything out with you.\"\n\n\"Oh, I ought to give you a sketch of the company you will meet with us,\"\nshe went on. \"I'll begin with the ladies. Princess Varvara--you know\nher, and I know your opinion and Stiva's about her. Stiva says the whole\naim of her existence is to prove her superiority over Auntie Katerina\nPavlovna: that's all true; but she's a good-natured woman, and I am so\ngrateful to her. In Petersburg there was a moment when a chaperon was\nabsolutely essential for me. Then she turned up. But really she is\ngood-natured. She did a great deal to alleviate my position. I see you\ndon't understand all the difficulty of my position ... there in\nPetersburg,\" she added. \"Here I'm perfectly at ease and happy. Well, of\nthat later on, though. Then Sviazhsky--he's the marshal of the district,\nand he's a very good sort of a man, but he wants to get something out of\nAlexey. You understand, with his property, now that we are settled in\nthe country, Alexey can exercise great influence. Then there's\nTushkevitch--you have seen him, you know--Betsy's admirer. Now he's been\nthrown over and he's come to see us. As Alexey says, he's one of those\npeople who are very pleasant if one accepts them for what they try to\nappear to be, _et puis il est comme il faut_, as Princess Varvara says.\nThen Veslovsky ... you know him. A very nice boy,\" she said, and a sly\nsmile curved her lips. \"What's this wild story about him and the Levins?\nVeslovsky told Alexey about it, and we don't believe it. _Il est tres\ngentil et naif_,\" she said again with the same smile. \"Men need\noccupation, and Alexey needs a circle, so I value all these people. We\nhave to have the house lively and gay, so that Alexey may not long for\nany novelty. Then you'll see the steward--a German, a very good fellow,\nand he understands his work. Alexey has a very high opinion of him. Then\nthe doctor, a young man, not quite a Nihilist perhaps, but you know,\neats with his knife ... but a very good doctor. Then the architect....\n_Une petite cour!_\"\n\n\n\nChapter 20\n\n\n\"Here's Dolly for you, princess, you were so anxious to see her,\" said\nAnna, coming out with Darya Alexandrovna onto the stone terrace where\nPrincess Varvara was sitting in the shade at an embroidery frame,\nworking at a cover for Count Alexey Kirillovitch's easy chair. \"She says\nshe doesn't want anything before dinner, but please order some lunch for\nher, and I'll go and look for Alexey and bring them all in.\"\n\nPrincess Varvara gave Dolly a cordial and rather patronizing reception,\nand began at once explaining to her that she was living with Anna\nbecause she had always cared more for her than her sister Katerina\nPavlovna, the aunt that had brought Anna up, and that now, when every\none had abandoned Anna, she thought it her duty to help her in this most\ndifficult period of transition.\n\n\"Her husband will give her a divorce, and then I shall go back to my\nsolitude; but now I can be of use, and I am doing my duty, however\ndifficult it may be for me--not like some other people. And how sweet it\nis of you, how right of you to have come! They live like the best of\nmarried couples; it's for God to judge them, not for us. And didn't\nBiryuzovsky and Madame Avenieva ... and Sam Nikandrov, and Vassiliev and\nMadame Mamonova, and Liza Neptunova... Did no one say anything about\nthem? And it has ended by their being received by everyone. And then,\n_c'est un interieur si joli, si comme il faut. Tout-a-fait a l'anglaise.\nOn se reunit le matin au breakfast, et puis on se separe._ Everyone does\nas he pleases till dinnertime. Dinner at seven o'clock. Stiva did very\nrightly to send you. He needs their support. You know that through his\nmother and brother he can do anything. And then they do so much good. He\ndidn't tell you about his hospital? _Ce sera admirable_--everything from\nParis.\"\n\nTheir conversation was interrupted by Anna, who had found the men of the\nparty in the billiard room, and returned with them to the terrace. There\nwas still a long time before the dinner-hour, it was exquisite weather,\nand so several different methods of spending the next two hours were\nproposed. There were very many methods of passing the time at\nVozdvizhenskoe, and these were all unlike those in use at Pokrovskoe.\n\n\"_Une partie de lawn-tennis,_\" Veslovsky proposed, with his handsome\nsmile. \"We'll be partners again, Anna Arkadyevna.\"\n\n\"No, it's too hot; better stroll about the garden and have a row in the\nboat, show Darya Alexandrovna the river banks.\" Vronsky proposed.\n\n\"I agree to anything,\" said Sviazhsky.\n\n\"I imagine that what Dolly would like best would be a stroll--wouldn't\nyou? And then the boat, perhaps,\" said Anna.\n\nSo it was decided. Veslovsky and Tushkevitch went off to the bathing\nplace, promising to get the boat ready and to wait there for them.\n\nThey walked along the path in two couples, Anna with Sviazhsky, and\nDolly with Vronsky. Dolly was a little embarrassed and anxious in the\nnew surroundings in which she found herself. Abstractly, theoretically,\nshe did not merely justify, she positively approved of Anna's conduct.\nAs is indeed not unfrequent with women of unimpeachable virtue, weary of\nthe monotony of respectable existence, at a distance she not only\nexcused illicit love, she positively envied it. Besides, she loved Anna\nwith all her heart. But seeing Anna in actual life among these\nstrangers, with this fashionable tone that was so new to Darya\nAlexandrovna, she felt ill at ease. What she disliked particularly was\nseeing Princess Varvara ready to overlook everything for the sake of the\ncomforts she enjoyed.\n\nAs a general principle, abstractly, Dolly approved of Anna's action; but\nto see the man for whose sake her action had been taken was disagreeable\nto her. Moreover, she had never liked Vronsky. She thought him very\nproud, and saw nothing in him of which he could be proud except his\nwealth. But against her own will, here in his own house, he overawed her\nmore than ever, and she could not be at ease with him. She felt with him\nthe same feeling she had had with the maid about her dressing jacket.\nJust as with the maid she had felt not exactly ashamed, but embarrassed\nat her darns, so she felt with him not exactly ashamed, but embarrassed\nat herself.\n\nDolly was ill at ease, and tried to find a subject of conversation. Even\nthough she supposed that, through his pride, praise of his house and\ngarden would be sure to be disagreeable to him, she did all the same\ntell him how much she liked his house.\n\n\"Yes, it's a very fine building, and in the good old-fashioned style,\"\nhe said.\n\n\"I like so much the court in front of the steps. Was that always so?\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" he said, and his face beamed with pleasure. \"If you could only\nhave seen that court last spring!\"\n\nAnd he began, at first rather diffidently, but more and more carried\naway by the subject as he went on, to draw her attention to the various\ndetails of the decoration of his house and garden. It was evident that,\nhaving devoted a great deal of trouble to improve and beautify his home,\nVronsky felt a need to show off the improvements to a new person, and\nwas genuinely delighted at Darya Alexandrovna's praise.\n\n\"If you would care to look at the hospital, and are not tired, indeed,\nit's not far. Shall we go?\" he said, glancing into her face to convince\nhimself that she was not bored. \"Are you coming, Anna?\" he turned to\nher.\n\n\"We will come, won't we?\" she said, addressing Sviazhsky. \"_Mais il ne\nfaut pas laisser le pauvre Veslovsky et Tushkevitch se morfondre la dans\nle bateau._ We must send and tell them.\"\n\n\"Yes, this is a monument he is setting up here,\" said Anna, turning to\nDolly with that sly smile of comprehension with which she had previously\ntalked about the hospital.\n\n\"Oh, it's a work of real importance!\" said Sviazhsky. But to show he was\nnot trying to ingratiate himself with Vronsky, he promptly added some\nslightly critical remarks.\n\n\"I wonder, though, count,\" he said, \"that while you do so much for the\nhealth of the peasants, you take so little interest in the schools.\"\n\n\"_C'est devenu tellement commun les ecoles,_\" said Vronsky. \"You\nunderstand it's not on that account, but it just happens so, my interest\nhas been diverted elsewhere. This way then to the hospital,\" he said to\nDarya Alexandrovna, pointing to a turning out of the avenue.\n\nThe ladies put up their parasols and turned into the side path. After\ngoing down several turnings, and going through a little gate, Darya\nAlexandrovna saw standing on rising ground before her a large\npretentious-looking red building, almost finished. The iron roof, which\nwas not yet painted, shone with dazzling brightness in the sunshine.\nBeside the finished building another had been begun, surrounded by\nscaffolding. Workmen in aprons, standing on scaffolds, were laying\nbricks, pouring mortar out of vats, and smoothing it with trowels.\n\n\"How quickly work gets done with you!\" said Sviazhsky. \"When I was here\nlast time the roof was not on.\"\n\n\"By the autumn it will all be ready. Inside almost everything is done,\"\nsaid Anna.\n\n\"And what's this new building?\"\n\n\"That's the house for the doctor and the dispensary,\" answered Vronsky,\nseeing the architect in a short jacket coming towards him; and excusing\nhimself to the ladies, he went to meet him.\n\nGoing round a hole where the workmen were slaking lime, he stood still\nwith the architect and began talking rather warmly.\n\n\"The front is still too low,\" he said to Anna, who had asked what was\nthe matter.\n\n\"I said the foundation ought to be raised,\" said Anna.\n\n\"Yes, of course it would have been much better, Anna Arkadyevna,\" said\nthe architect, \"but now it's too late.\"\n\n\"Yes, I take a great interest in it,\" Anna answered Sviazhsky, who was\nexpressing his surprise at her knowledge of architecture. \"This new\nbuilding ought to have been in harmony with the hospital. It was an\nafterthought, and was begun without a plan.\"\n\nVronsky, having finished his talk with the architect, joined the ladies,\nand led them inside the hospital.\n\nAlthough they were still at work on the cornices outside and were\npainting on the ground floor, upstairs almost all the rooms were\nfinished. Going up the broad cast-iron staircase to the landing, they\nwalked into the first large room. The walls were stuccoed to look like\nmarble, the huge plate-glass windows were already in, only the parquet\nfloor was not yet finished, and the carpenters, who were planing a block\nof it, left their work, taking off the bands that fastened their hair,\nto greet the gentry.\n\n\"This is the reception room,\" said Vronsky. \"Here there will be a desk,\ntables, and benches, and nothing more.\"\n\n\"This way; let us go in here. Don't go near the window,\" said Anna,\ntrying the paint to see if it were dry. \"Alexey, the paint's dry\nalready,\" she added.\n\nFrom the reception room they went into the corridor. Here Vronsky showed\nthem the mechanism for ventilation on a novel system. Then he showed\nthem marble baths, and beds with extraordinary springs. Then he showed\nthem the wards one after another, the storeroom, the linen room, then\nthe heating stove of a new pattern, then the trolleys, which would make\nno noise as they carried everything needed along the corridors, and many\nother things. Sviazhsky, as a connoisseur in the latest mechanical\nimprovements, appreciated everything fully. Dolly simply wondered at all\nshe had not seen before, and, anxious to understand it all, made minute\ninquiries about everything, which gave Vronsky great satisfaction.\n\n\"Yes, I imagine that this will be the solitary example of a properly\nfitted hospital in Russia,\" said Sviazhsky.\n\n\"And won't you have a lying-in ward?\" asked Dolly. \"That's so much\nneeded in the country. I have often...\"\n\nIn spite of his usual courtesy, Vronsky interrupted her.\n\n\"This is not a lying-in home, but a hospital for the sick, and is\nintended for all diseases, except infectious complaints,\" he said. \"Ah!\nlook at this,\" and he rolled up to Darya Alexandrovna an invalid chair\nthat had just been ordered for the convalescents. \"Look.\" He sat down in\nthe chair and began moving it. \"The patient can't walk--still too weak,\nperhaps, or something wrong with his legs, but he must have air, and he\nmoves, rolls himself along....\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna was interested by everything. She liked everything\nvery much, but most of all she liked Vronsky himself with his natural,\nsimple-hearted eagerness. \"Yes, he's a very nice, good man,\" she thought\nseveral times, not hearing what he said, but looking at him and\npenetrating into his expression, while she mentally put herself in\nAnna's place. She liked him so much just now with his eager interest\nthat she saw how Anna could be in love with him.\n\n\n\nChapter 21\n\n\n\"No, I think the princess is tired, and horses don't interest her,\"\nVronsky said to Anna, who wanted to go on to the stables, where\nSviazhsky wished to see the new stallion. \"You go on, while I escort the\nprincess home, and we'll have a little talk,\" he said, \"if you would\nlike that?\" he added, turning to her.\n\n\"I know nothing about horses, and I shall be delighted,\" answered Darya\nAlexandrovna, rather astonished.\n\nShe saw by Vronsky's face that he wanted something from her. She was not\nmistaken. As soon as they had passed through the little gate back into\nthe garden, he looked in the direction Anna had taken, and having made\nsure that she could neither hear nor see them, he began:\n\n\"You guess that I have something I want to say to you,\" he said, looking\nat her with laughing eyes. \"I am not wrong in believing you to be a\nfriend of Anna's.\" He took off his hat, and taking out his handkerchief,\nwiped his head, which was growing bald.\n\nDarya Alexandrovna made no answer, and merely stared at him with dismay.\nWhen she was left alone with him, she suddenly felt afraid; his laughing\neyes and stern expression scared her.\n\nThe most diverse suppositions as to what he was about to speak of to her\nflashed into her brain. \"He is going to beg me to come to stay with them\nwith the children, and I shall have to refuse; or to create a set that\nwill receive Anna in Moscow.... Or isn't it Vassenka Veslovsky and his\nrelations with Anna? Or perhaps about Kitty, that he feels he was to\nblame?\" All her conjectures were unpleasant, but she did not guess what\nhe really wanted to talk about to her.\n\n\"You have so much influence with Anna, she is so fond of you,\" he said;\n\"do help me.\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna looked with timid inquiry into his energetic face,\nwhich under the lime-trees was continually being lighted up in patches\nby the sunshine, and then passing into complete shadow again. She waited\nfor him to say more, but he walked in silence beside her, scratching\nwith his cane in the gravel.\n\n\"You have come to see us, you, the only woman of Anna's former\nfriends--I don't count Princess Varvara--but I know that you have done\nthis not because you regard our position as normal, but because,\nunderstanding all the difficulty of the position, you still love her and\nwant to be a help to her. Have I understood you rightly?\" he asked,\nlooking round at her.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" answered Darya Alexandrovna, putting down her sunshade,\n\"but...\"\n\n\"No,\" he broke in, and unconsciously, oblivious of the awkward position\ninto which he was putting his companion, he stopped abruptly, so that\nshe had to stop short too. \"No one feels more deeply and intensely than\nI do all the difficulty of Anna's position; and that you may well\nunderstand, if you do me the honor of supposing I have any heart. I am\nto blame for that position, and that is why I feel it.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" said Darya Alexandrovna, involuntarily admiring the\nsincerity and firmness with which he said this. \"But just because you\nfeel yourself responsible, you exaggerate it, I am afraid,\" she said.\n\"Her position in the world is difficult, I can well understand.\"\n\n\"In the world it is hell!\" he brought out quickly, frowning darkly. \"You\ncan't imagine moral sufferings greater than what she went through in\nPetersburg in that fortnight ... and I beg you to believe it.\"\n\n\"Yes, but here, so long as neither Anna ... nor you miss society...\"\n\n\"Society!\" he said contemptuously, \"how could I miss society?\"\n\n\"So far--and it may be so always--you are happy and at peace. I see in\nAnna that she is happy, perfectly happy, she has had time to tell me so\nmuch already,\" said Darya Alexandrovna, smiling; and involuntarily, as\nshe said this, at the same moment a doubt entered her mind whether Anna\nreally were happy.\n\nBut Vronsky, it appeared, had no doubts on that score.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" he said, \"I know that she has revived after all her\nsufferings; she is happy. She is happy in the present. But I?... I am\nafraid of what is before us ... I beg your pardon, you would like to\nwalk on?\"\n\n\"No, I don't mind.\"\n\n\"Well, then, let us sit here.\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna sat down on a garden seat in a corner of the avenue.\nHe stood up facing her.\n\n\"I see that she is happy,\" he repeated, and the doubt whether she were\nhappy sank more deeply into Darya Alexandrovna's mind. \"But can it last?\nWhether we have acted rightly or wrongly is another question, but the\ndie is cast,\" he said, passing from Russian to French, \"and we are bound\ntogether for life. We are united by all the ties of love that we hold\nmost sacred. We have a child, we may have other children. But the law\nand all the conditions of our position are such that thousands of\ncomplications arise which she does not see and does not want to see. And\nthat one can well understand. But I can't help seeing them. My daughter\nis by law not my daughter, but Karenin's. I cannot bear this falsity!\"\nhe said, with a vigorous gesture of refusal, and he looked with gloomy\ninquiry towards Darya Alexandrovna.\n\nShe made no answer, but simply gazed at him. He went on:\n\n\"One day a son may be born, my son, and he will be legally a Karenin; he\nwill not be the heir of my name nor of my property, and however happy we\nmay be in our home life and however many children we may have, there\nwill be no real tie between us. They will be Karenins. You can\nunderstand the bitterness and horror of this position! I have tried to\nspeak of this to Anna. It irritates her. She does not understand, and to\nher I cannot speak plainly of all this. Now look at another side. I am\nhappy, happy in her love, but I must have occupation. I have found\noccupation, and am proud of what I am doing and consider it nobler than\nthe pursuits of my former companions at court and in the army. And most\ncertainly I would not change the work I am doing for theirs. I am\nworking here, settled in my own place, and I am happy and contented, and\nwe need nothing more to make us happy. I love my work here. _Ce n'est\npas un pis-aller,_ on the contrary...\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna noticed that at this point in his explanation he grew\nconfused, and she did not quite understand this digression, but she felt\nthat having once begun to speak of matters near his heart, of which he\ncould not speak to Anna, he was now making a clean breast of everything,\nand that the question of his pursuits in the country fell into the same\ncategory of matters near his heart, as the question of his relations\nwith Anna.\n\n\"Well, I will go on,\" he said, collecting himself. \"The great thing is\nthat as I work I want to have a conviction that what I am doing will not\ndie with me, that I shall have heirs to come after me,--and this I have\nnot. Conceive the position of a man who knows that his children, the\nchildren of the woman he loves, will not be his, but will belong to\nsomeone who hates them and cares nothing about them! It is awful!\"\n\nHe paused, evidently much moved.\n\n\"Yes, indeed, I see that. But what can Anna do?\" queried Darya\nAlexandrovna.\n\n\"Yes, that brings me to the object of my conversation,\" he said, calming\nhimself with an effort. \"Anna can, it depends on her.... Even to\npetition the Tsar for legitimization, a divorce is essential. And that\ndepends on Anna. Her husband agreed to a divorce--at that time your\nhusband had arranged it completely. And now, I know, he would not refuse\nit. It is only a matter of writing to him. He said plainly at that time\nthat if she expressed the desire, he would not refuse. Of course,\" he\nsaid gloomily, \"it is one of those Pharisaical cruelties of which only\nsuch heartless men are capable. He knows what agony any recollection of\nhim must give her, and knowing her, he must have a letter from her. I\ncan understand that it is agony to her. But the matter is of such\nimportance, that one must _passer pardessus toutes ces finesses de\nsentiment. Il y va du bonheur et de l'existence d'Anne et de ses\nenfants._ I won't speak of myself, though it's hard for me, very hard,\"\nhe said, with an expression as though he were threatening someone for\nits being hard for him. \"And so it is, princess, that I am shamelessly\nclutching at you as an anchor of salvation. Help me to persuade her to\nwrite to him and ask for a divorce.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course,\" Darya Alexandrovna said dreamily, as she vividly\nrecalled her last interview with Alexey Alexandrovitch. \"Yes, of\ncourse,\" she repeated with decision, thinking of Anna.\n\n\"Use your influence with her, make her write. I don't like--I'm almost\nunable to speak about this to her.\"\n\n\"Very well, I will talk to her. But how is it she does not think of it\nherself?\" said Darya Alexandrovna, and for some reason she suddenly at\nthat point recalled Anna's strange new habit of half-closing her eyes.\nAnd she remembered that Anna drooped her eyelids just when the deeper\nquestions of life were touched upon. \"Just as though she half-shut her\neyes to her own life, so as not to see everything,\" thought Dolly. \"Yes,\nindeed, for my own sake and for hers I will talk to her,\" Dolly said in\nreply to his look of gratitude.\n\nThey got up and walked to the house.\n\n\n\nChapter 22\n\n\nWhen Anna found Dolly at home before her, she looked intently in her\neyes, as though questioning her about the talk she had had with Vronsky,\nbut she made no inquiry in words.\n\n\"I believe it's dinner time,\" she said. \"We've not seen each other at\nall yet. I am reckoning on the evening. Now I want to go and dress. I\nexpect you do too; we all got splashed at the buildings.\"\n\nDolly went to her room and she felt amused. To change her dress was\nimpossible, for she had already put on her best dress. But in order to\nsignify in some way her preparation for dinner, she asked the maid to\nbrush her dress, changed her cuffs and tie, and put some lace on her\nhead.\n\n\"This is all I can do,\" she said with a smile to Anna, who came in to\nher in a third dress, again of extreme simplicity.\n\n\"Yes, we are too formal here,\" she said, as it were apologizing for her\nmagnificence. \"Alexey is delighted at your visit, as he rarely is at\nanything. He has completely lost his heart to you,\" she added. \"You're\nnot tired?\"\n\nThere was no time for talking about anything before dinner. Going into\nthe drawing room they found Princess Varvara already there, and the\ngentlemen of the party in black frock-coats. The architect wore a\nswallow-tail coat. Vronsky presented the doctor and the steward to his\nguest. The architect he had already introduced to her at the hospital.\n\nA stout butler, resplendent with a smoothly shaven round chin and a\nstarched white cravat, announced that dinner was ready, and the ladies\ngot up. Vronsky asked Sviazhsky to take in Anna Arkadyevna, and himself\noffered his arm to Dolly. Veslovsky was before Tushkevitch in offering\nhis arm to Princess Varvara, so that Tushkevitch with the steward and\nthe doctor walked in alone.\n\nThe dinner, the dining room, the service, the waiting at table, the\nwine, and the food, were not simply in keeping with the general tone of\nmodern luxury throughout all the house, but seemed even more sumptuous\nand modern. Darya Alexandrovna watched this luxury which was novel to\nher, and as a good housekeeper used to managing a household--although\nshe never dreamed of adapting anything she saw to her own household, as\nit was all in a style of luxury far above her own manner of living--she\ncould not help scrutinizing every detail, and wondering how and by whom\nit was all done. Vassenka Veslovsky, her husband, and even Sviazhsky,\nand many other people she knew, would never have considered this\nquestion, and would have readily believed what every well-bred host\ntries to make his guests feel, that is, that all that is well-ordered in\nhis house has cost him, the host, no trouble whatever, but comes of\nitself. Darya Alexandrovna was well aware that even porridge for the\nchildren's breakfast does not come of itself, and that therefore, where\nso complicated and magnificent a style of luxury was maintained, someone\nmust give earnest attention to its organization. And from the glance\nwith which Alexey Kirillovitch scanned the table, from the way he nodded\nto the butler, and offered Darya Alexandrovna her choice between cold\nsoup and hot soup, she saw that it was all organized and maintained by\nthe care of the master of the house himself. It was evident that it all\nrested no more upon Anna than upon Veslovsky. She, Sviazhsky, the\nprincess, and Veslovsky, were equally guests, with light hearts enjoying\nwhat had been arranged for them.\n\nAnna was the hostess only in conducting the conversation. The\nconversation was a difficult one for the lady of the house at a small\ntable with persons present, like the steward and the architect,\nbelonging to a completely different world, struggling not to be overawed\nby an elegance to which they were unaccustomed, and unable to sustain a\nlarge share in the general conversation. But this difficult conversation\nAnna directed with her usual tact and naturalness, and indeed she did so\nwith actual enjoyment, as Darya Alexandrovna observed. The conversation\nbegan about the row Tushkevitch and Veslovsky had taken alone together\nin the boat, and Tushkevitch began describing the last boat races in\nPetersburg at the Yacht Club. But Anna, seizing the first pause, at once\nturned to the architect to draw him out of his silence.\n\n\"Nikolay Ivanitch was struck,\" she said, meaning Sviazhsky, \"at the\nprogress the new building had made since he was here last; but I am\nthere every day, and every day I wonder at the rate at which it grows.\"\n\n\"It's first-rate working with his excellency,\" said the architect with a\nsmile (he was respectful and composed, though with a sense of his own\ndignity). \"It's a very different matter to have to do with the district\nauthorities. Where one would have to write out sheaves of papers, here I\ncall upon the count, and in three words we settle the business.\"\n\n\"The American way of doing business,\" said Sviazhsky, with a smile.\n\n\"Yes, there they build in a rational fashion...\"\n\nThe conversation passed to the misuse of political power in the United\nStates, but Anna quickly brought it round to another topic, so as to\ndraw the steward into talk.\n\n\"Have you ever seen a reaping machine?\" she said, addressing Darya\nAlexandrovna. \"We had just ridden over to look at one when we met. It's\nthe first time I ever saw one.\"\n\n\"How do they work?\" asked Dolly.\n\n\"Exactly like little scissors. A plank and a lot of little scissors.\nLike this.\"\n\nAnna took a knife and fork in her beautiful white hands covered with\nrings, and began showing how the machine worked. It was clear that she\nsaw nothing would be understood from her explanation; but aware that her\ntalk was pleasant and her hands beautiful she went on explaining.\n\n\"More like little penknives,\" Veslovsky said playfully, never taking his\neyes off her.\n\nAnna gave a just perceptible smile, but made no answer. \"Isn't it true,\nKarl Fedoritch, that it's just like little scissors?\" she said to the\nsteward.\n\n\"_Oh, ja,_\" answered the German. _\"Es ist ein ganz einfaches Ding,\"_ and\nhe began to explain the construction of the machine.\n\n\"It's a pity it doesn't bind too. I saw one at the Vienna exhibition,\nwhich binds with a wire,\" said Sviazhsky. \"They would be more profitable\nin use.\"\n\n_\"Es kommt drauf an.... Der Preis vom Draht muss ausgerechnet werden.\"_\nAnd the German, roused from his taciturnity, turned to Vronsky. _\"Das\nlaesst sich ausrechnen, Erlaucht.\"_ The German was just feeling in the\npocket where were his pencil and the notebook he always wrote in, but\nrecollecting that he was at a dinner, and observing Vronsky's chilly\nglance, he checked himself. _\"Zu compliziert, macht zu viel Klopot,\"_ he\nconcluded.\n\n_\"Wuenscht man Dochots, so hat man auch Klopots,\"_ said Vassenka\nVeslovsky, mimicking the German. _\"J'adore l'allemand,\"_ he addressed\nAnna again with the same smile.\n\n_\"Cessez,\"_ she said with playful severity.\n\n\"We expected to find you in the fields, Vassily Semyonitch,\" she said to\nthe doctor, a sickly-looking man; \"have you been there?\"\n\n\"I went there, but I had taken flight,\" the doctor answered with gloomy\njocoseness.\n\n\"Then you've taken a good constitutional?\"\n\n\"Splendid!\"\n\n\"Well, and how was the old woman? I hope it's not typhus?\"\n\n\"Typhus it is not, but it's taking a bad turn.\"\n\n\"What a pity!\" said Anna, and having thus paid the dues of civility to\nher domestic circle, she turned to her own friends.\n\n\"It would be a hard task, though, to construct a machine from your\ndescription, Anna Arkadyevna,\" Sviazhsky said jestingly.\n\n\"Oh, no, why so?\" said Anna with a smile that betrayed that she knew\nthere was something charming in her disquisitions upon the machine that\nhad been noticed by Sviazhsky. This new trait of girlish coquettishness\nmade an unpleasant impression on Dolly.\n\n\"But Anna Arkadyevna's knowledge of architecture is marvelous,\" said\nTushkevitch.\n\n\"To be sure, I heard Anna Arkadyevna talking yesterday about plinths and\ndamp-courses,\" said Veslovsky. \"Have I got it right?\"\n\n\"There's nothing marvelous about it, when one sees and hears so much of\nit,\" said Anna. \"But, I dare say, you don't even know what houses are\nmade of?\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna saw that Anna disliked the tone of raillery that\nexisted between her and Veslovsky, but fell in with it against her will.\n\nVronsky acted in this matter quite differently from Levin. He obviously\nattached no significance to Veslovsky's chattering; on the contrary, he\nencouraged his jests.\n\n\"Come now, tell us, Veslovsky, how are the stones held together?\"\n\n\"By cement, of course.\"\n\n\"Bravo! And what is cement?\"\n\n\"Oh, some sort of paste ... no, putty,\" said Veslovsky, raising a\ngeneral laugh.\n\nThe company at dinner, with the exception of the doctor, the architect,\nand the steward, who remained plunged in gloomy silence, kept up a\nconversation that never paused, glancing off one subject, fastening on\nanother, and at times stinging one or the other to the quick. Once Darya\nAlexandrovna felt wounded to the quick, and got so hot that she\npositively flushed and wondered afterwards whether she had said anything\nextreme or unpleasant. Sviazhsky began talking of Levin, describing his\nstrange view that machinery is simply pernicious in its effects on\nRussian agriculture.\n\n\"I have not the pleasure of knowing this M. Levin,\" Vronsky said,\nsmiling, \"but most likely he has never seen the machines he condemns; or\nif he has seen and tried any, it must have been after a queer fashion,\nsome Russian imitation, not a machine from abroad. What sort of views\ncan anyone have on such a subject?\"\n\n\"Turkish views, in general,\" Veslovsky said, turning to Anna with a\nsmile.\n\n\"I can't defend his opinions,\" Darya Alexandrovna said, firing up; \"but\nI can say that he's a highly cultivated man, and if he were here he\nwould know very well how to answer you, though I am not capable of doing\nso.\"\n\n\"I like him extremely, and we are great friends,\" Sviazhsky said,\nsmiling good-naturedly. \"_Mais pardon, il est un petit peu toque;_ he\nmaintains, for instance, that district councils and arbitration boards\nare all of no use, and he is unwilling to take part in anything.\"\n\n\"It's our Russian apathy,\" said Vronsky, pouring water from an iced\ndecanter into a delicate glass on a high stem; \"we've no sense of the\nduties our privileges impose upon us, and so we refuse to recognize\nthese duties.\"\n\n\"I know no man more strict in the performance of his duties,\" said Darya\nAlexandrovna, irritated by Vronsky's tone of superiority.\n\n\"For my part,\" pursued Vronsky, who was evidently for some reason or\nother keenly affected by this conversation, \"such as I am, I am, on the\ncontrary, extremely grateful for the honor they have done me, thanks to\nNikolay Ivanitch\" (he indicated Sviazhsky), \"in electing me a justice of\nthe peace. I consider that for me the duty of being present at the\nsession, of judging some peasants' quarrel about a horse, is as\nimportant as anything I can do. And I shall regard it as an honor if\nthey elect me for the district council. It's only in that way I can pay\nfor the advantages I enjoy as a landowner. Unluckily they don't\nunderstand the weight that the big landowners ought to have in the\nstate.\"\n\nIt was strange to Darya Alexandrovna to hear how serenely confident he\nwas of being right at his own table. She thought how Levin, who believed\nthe opposite, was just as positive in his opinions at his own table. But\nshe loved Levin, and so she was on his side.\n\n\"So we can reckon upon you, count, for the coming elections?\" said\nSviazhsky. \"But you must come a little beforehand, so as to be on the\nspot by the eighth. If you would do me the honor to stop with me.\"\n\n\"I rather agree with your beau-frere,\" said Anna, \"though not quite on\nthe same ground as he,\" she added with a smile. \"I'm afraid that we have\ntoo many of these public duties in these latter days. Just as in old\ndays there were so many government functionaries that one had to call in\na functionary for every single thing, so now everyone's doing some sort\nof public duty. Alexey has been here now six months, and he's a member,\nI do believe, of five or six different public bodies. _Du train que cela\nva,_ the whole time will be wasted on it. And I'm afraid that with such\na multiplicity of these bodies, they'll end in being a mere form. How\nmany are you a member of, Nikolay Ivanitch?\" she turned to\nSviazhsky--\"over twenty, I fancy.\"\n\nAnna spoke lightly, but irritation could be discerned in her tone. Darya\nAlexandrovna, watching Anna and Vronsky attentively, detected it\ninstantly. She noticed, too, that as she spoke Vronsky's face had\nimmediately taken a serious and obstinate expression. Noticing this, and\nthat Princess Varvara at once made haste to change the conversation by\ntalking of Petersburg acquaintances, and remembering what Vronsky had\nwithout apparent connection said in the garden of his work in the\ncountry, Dolly surmised that this question of public activity was\nconnected with some deep private disagreement between Anna and Vronsky.\n\nThe dinner, the wine, the decoration of the table were all very good;\nbut it was all like what Darya Alexandrovna had seen at formal dinners\nand balls which of late years had become quite unfamiliar to her; it all\nhad the same impersonal and constrained character, and so on an ordinary\nday and in a little circle of friends it made a disagreeable impression\non her.\n\nAfter dinner they sat on the terrace, then they proceeded to play lawn\ntennis. The players, divided into two parties, stood on opposite sides\nof a tightly drawn net with gilt poles on the carefully leveled and\nrolled croquet-ground. Darya Alexandrovna made an attempt to play, but\nit was a long time before she could understand the game, and by the time\nshe did understand it, she was so tired that she sat down with Princess\nVarvara and simply looked on at the players. Her partner, Tushkevitch,\ngave up playing too, but the others kept the game up for a long time.\nSviazhsky and Vronsky both played very well and seriously. They kept a\nsharp lookout on the balls served to them, and without haste or getting\nin each other's way, they ran adroitly up to them, waited for the\nrebound, and neatly and accurately returned them over the net. Veslovsky\nplayed worse than the others. He was too eager, but he kept the players\nlively with his high spirits. His laughter and outcries never paused.\nLike the other men of the party, with the ladies' permission, he took\noff his coat, and his solid, comely figure in his white shirt-sleeves,\nwith his red perspiring face and his impulsive movements, made a picture\nthat imprinted itself vividly on the memory.\n\nWhen Darya Alexandrovna lay in bed that night, as soon as she closed her\neyes, she saw Vassenka Veslovsky flying about the croquet ground.\n\nDuring the game Darya Alexandrovna was not enjoying herself. She did not\nlike the light tone of raillery that was kept up all the time between\nVassenka Veslovsky and Anna, and the unnaturalness altogether of\ngrown-up people, all alone without children, playing at a child's game.\nBut to avoid breaking up the party and to get through the time somehow,\nafter a rest she joined the game again, and pretended to be enjoying it.\nAll that day it seemed to her as though she were acting in a theater\nwith actors cleverer than she, and that her bad acting was spoiling the\nwhole performance. She had come with the intention of staying two days,\nif all went well. But in the evening, during the game, she made up her\nmind that she would go home next day. The maternal cares and worries,\nwhich she had so hated on the way, now, after a day spent without them,\nstruck her in quite another light, and tempted her back to them.\n\nWhen, after evening tea and a row by night in the boat, Darya\nAlexandrovna went alone to her room, took off her dress, and began\narranging her thin hair for the night, she had a great sense of relief.\n\nIt was positively disagreeable to her to think that Anna was coming to\nsee her immediately. She longed to be alone with her own thoughts.\n\n\n\nChapter 23\n\n\nDolly was wanting to go to bed when Anna came in to see her, attired for\nthe night. In the course of the day Anna had several times begun to\nspeak of matters near her heart, and every time after a few words she\nhad stopped: \"Afterwards, by ourselves, we'll talk about everything.\nI've got so much I want to tell you,\" she said.\n\nNow they were by themselves, and Anna did not know what to talk about.\nShe sat in the window looking at Dolly, and going over in her own mind\nall the stores of intimate talk which had seemed so inexhaustible\nbeforehand, and she found nothing. At that moment it seemed to her that\neverything had been said already.\n\n\"Well, what of Kitty?\" she said with a heavy sigh, looking penitently at\nDolly. \"Tell me the truth, Dolly: isn't she angry with me?\"\n\n\"Angry? Oh, no!\" said Darya Alexandrovna, smiling.\n\n\"But she hates me, despises me?\"\n\n\"Oh, no! But you know that sort of thing isn't forgiven.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Anna, turning away and looking out of the open window.\n\"But I was not to blame. And who is to blame? What's the meaning of\nbeing to blame? Could it have been otherwise? What do you think? Could\nit possibly have happened that you didn't become the wife of Stiva?\"\n\n\"Really, I don't know. But this is what I want you to tell me...\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, but we've not finished about Kitty. Is she happy? He's a very\nnice man, they say.\"\n\n\"He's much more than very nice. I don't know a better man.\"\n\n\"Ah, how glad I am! I'm so glad! Much more than very nice,\" she\nrepeated.\n\nDolly smiled.\n\n\"But tell me about yourself. We've a great deal to talk about. And I've\nhad a talk with...\" Dolly did not know what to call him. She felt it\nawkward to call him either the count or Alexey Kirillovitch.\n\n\"With Alexey,\" said Anna, \"I know what you talked about. But I wanted to\nask you directly what you think of me, of my life?\"\n\n\"How am I to say like that straight off? I really don't know.\"\n\n\"No, tell me all the same.... You see my life. But you mustn't forget\nthat you're seeing us in the summer, when you have come to us and we are\nnot alone.... But we came here early in the spring, lived quite alone,\nand shall be alone again, and I desire nothing better. But imagine me\nliving alone without him, alone, and that will be ... I see by\neverything that it will often be repeated, that he will be half the time\naway from home,\" she said, getting up and sitting down close by Dolly.\n\n\"Of course,\" she interrupted Dolly, who would have answered, \"of course\nI won't try to keep him by force. I don't keep him indeed. The races are\njust coming, his horses are running, he will go. I'm very glad. But\nthink of me, fancy my position.... But what's the use of talking about\nit?\" She smiled. \"Well, what did he talk about with you?\"\n\n\"He spoke of what I want to speak about of myself, and it's easy for me\nto be his advocate; of whether there is not a possibility ... whether\nyou could not...\" (Darya Alexandrovna hesitated) \"correct, improve your\nposition.... You know how I look at it.... But all the same, if\npossible, you should get married....\"\n\n\"Divorce, you mean?\" said Anna. \"Do you know, the only woman who came to\nsee me in Petersburg was Betsy Tverskaya? You know her, of course? _Au\nfond, c'est la femme la plus depravee qui existe._ She had an intrigue\nwith Tushkevitch, deceiving her husband in the basest way. And she told\nme that she did not care to know me so long as my position was\nirregular. Don't imagine I would compare ... I know you, darling. But I\ncould not help remembering.... Well, so what did he say to you?\" she\nrepeated.\n\n\"He said that he was unhappy on your account and his own. Perhaps you\nwill say that it's egoism, but what a legitimate and noble egoism. He\nwants first of all to legitimize his daughter, and to be your husband,\nto have a legal right to you.\"\n\n\"What wife, what slave can be so utterly a slave as I, in my position?\"\nshe put in gloomily.\n\n\"The chief thing he desires ... he desires that you should not suffer.\"\n\n\"That's impossible. Well?\"\n\n\"Well, and the most legitimate desire--he wishes that your children\nshould have a name.\"\n\n\"What children?\" Anna said, not looking at Dolly, and half closing her\neyes.\n\n\"Annie and those to come...\"\n\n\"He need not trouble on that score; I shall have no more children.\"\n\n\"How can you tell that you won't?\"\n\n\"I shall not, because I don't wish it.\" And, in spite of all her\nemotion, Anna smiled, as she caught the naive expression of curiosity,\nwonder, and horror on Dolly's face.\n\n\"The doctor told me after my illness...\"\n\n\"Impossible!\" said Dolly, opening her eyes wide.\n\nFor her this was one of those discoveries the consequences and\ndeductions from which are so immense that all that one feels for the\nfirst instant is that it is impossible to take it all in, and that one\nwill have to reflect a great, great deal upon it.\n\nThis discovery, suddenly throwing light on all those families of one or\ntwo children, which had hitherto been so incomprehensible to her,\naroused so many ideas, reflections, and contradictory emotions, that she\nhad nothing to say, and simply gazed with wide-open eyes of wonder at\nAnna. This was the very thing she had been dreaming of, but now learning\nthat it was possible, she was horrified. She felt that it was too simple\na solution of too complicated a problem.\n\n_\"N'est-ce pas immoral?\"_ was all she said, after a brief pause.\n\n\"Why so? Think, I have a choice between two alternatives: either to be\nwith child, that is an invalid, or to be the friend and companion of my\nhusband--practically my husband,\" Anna said in a tone intentionally\nsuperficial and frivolous.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Darya Alexandrovna, hearing the very arguments she had\nused to herself, and not finding the same force in them as before.\n\n\"For you, for other people,\" said Anna, as though divining her thoughts,\n\"there may be reason to hesitate; but for me.... You must consider, I am\nnot his wife; he loves me as long as he loves me. And how am I to keep\nhis love? Not like this!\"\n\nShe moved her white hands in a curve before her waist with extraordinary\nrapidity, as happens during moments of excitement; ideas and memories\nrushed into Darya Alexandrovna's head. \"I,\" she thought, \"did not keep\nmy attraction for Stiva; he left me for others, and the first woman for\nwhom he betrayed me did not keep him by being always pretty and lively.\nHe deserted her and took another. And can Anna attract and keep Count\nVronsky in that way? If that is what he looks for, he will find dresses\nand manners still more attractive and charming. And however white and\nbeautiful her bare arms are, however beautiful her full figure and her\neager face under her black curls, he will find something better still,\njust as my disgusting, pitiful, and charming husband does.\"\n\nDolly made no answer, she merely sighed. Anna noticed this sigh,\nindicating dissent, and she went on. In her armory she had other\narguments so strong that no answer could be made to them.\n\n\"Do you say that it's not right? But you must consider,\" she went on;\n\"you forget my position. How can I desire children? I'm not speaking of\nthe suffering, I'm not afraid of that. Think only, what are my children\nto be? Ill-fated children, who will have to bear a stranger's name. For\nthe very fact of their birth they will be forced to be ashamed of their\nmother, their father, their birth.\"\n\n\"But that is just why a divorce is necessary.\" But Anna did not hear\nher. She longed to give utterance to all the arguments with which she\nhad so many times convinced herself.\n\n\"What is reason given me for, if I am not to use it to avoid bringing\nunhappy beings into the world!\" She looked at Dolly, but without waiting\nfor a reply she went on:\n\n\"I should always feel I had wronged these unhappy children,\" she said.\n\"If they are not, at any rate they are not unhappy; while if they are\nunhappy, I alone should be to blame for it.\"\n\nThese were the very arguments Darya Alexandrovna had used in her own\nreflections; but she heard them without understanding them. \"How can one\nwrong creatures that don't exist?\" she thought. And all at once the idea\nstruck her: could it possibly, under any circumstances, have been better\nfor her favorite Grisha if he had never existed? And this seemed to her\nso wild, so strange, that she shook her head to drive away this tangle\nof whirling, mad ideas.\n\n\"No, I don't know; it's not right,\" was all she said, with an expression\nof disgust on her face.\n\n\"Yes, but you mustn't forget that you and I.... And besides that,\" added\nAnna, in spite of the wealth of her arguments and the poverty of Dolly's\nobjections, seeming still to admit that it was not right, \"don't forget\nthe chief point, that I am not now in the same position as you. For you\nthe question is: do you desire not to have any more children; while for\nme it is: do I desire to have them? And that's a great difference. You\nmust see that I can't desire it in my position.\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna made no reply. She suddenly felt that she had got far\naway from Anna; that there lay between them a barrier of questions on\nwhich they could never agree, and about which it was better not to\nspeak.\n\n\n\nChapter 24\n\n\n\"Then there is all the more reason for you to legalize your position, if\npossible,\" said Dolly.\n\n\"Yes, if possible,\" said Anna, speaking all at once in an utterly\ndifferent tone, subdued and mournful.\n\n\"Surely you don't mean a divorce is impossible? I was told your husband\nhad consented to it.\"\n\n\"Dolly, I don't want to talk about that.\"\n\n\"Oh, we won't then,\" Darya Alexandrovna hastened to say, noticing the\nexpression of suffering on Anna's face. \"All I see is that you take too\ngloomy a view of things.\"\n\n\"I? Not at all! I'm always bright and happy. You see, _je fais des\npassions._ Veslovsky...\"\n\n\"Yes, to tell the truth, I don't like Veslovsky's tone,\" said Darya\nAlexandrovna, anxious to change the subject.\n\n\"Oh, that's nonsense! It amuses Alexey, and that's all; but he's a boy,\nand quite under my control. You know, I turn him as I please. It's just\nas it might be with your Grisha.... Dolly!\"--she suddenly changed the\nsubject--\"you say I take too gloomy a view of things. You can't\nunderstand. It's too awful! I try not to take any view of it at all.\"\n\n\"But I think you ought to. You ought to do all you can.\"\n\n\"But what can I do? Nothing. You tell me to marry Alexey, and say I\ndon't think about it. I don't think about it!\" she repeated, and a flush\nrose into her face. She got up, straightening her chest, and sighed\nheavily. With her light step she began pacing up and down the room,\nstopping now and then. \"I don't think of it? Not a day, not an hour\npasses that I don't think of it, and blame myself for thinking of it ...\nbecause thinking of that may drive me mad. Drive me mad!\" she repeated.\n\"When I think of it, I can't sleep without morphine. But never mind. Let\nus talk quietly. They tell me, divorce. In the first place, he won't\ngive me a divorce. He's under the influence of Countess Lidia Ivanovna\nnow.\"\n\nDarya Alexandrovna, sitting erect on a chair, turned her head, following\nAnna with a face of sympathetic suffering.\n\n\"You ought to make the attempt,\" she said softly.\n\n\"Suppose I make the attempt. What does it mean?\" she said, evidently\ngiving utterance to a thought, a thousand times thought over and learned\nby heart. \"It means that I, hating him, but still recognizing that I\nhave wronged him--and I consider him magnanimous--that I humiliate\nmyself to write to him.... Well, suppose I make the effort; I do it.\nEither I receive a humiliating refusal or consent.... Well, I have\nreceived his consent, say...\" Anna was at that moment at the furthest\nend of the room, and she stopped there, doing something to the curtain\nat the window. \"I receive his consent, but my ... my son? They won't\ngive him up to me. He will grow up despising me, with his father, whom\nI've abandoned. Do you see, I love ... equally, I think, but both more\nthan myself--two creatures, Seryozha and Alexey.\"\n\nShe came out into the middle of the room and stood facing Dolly, with\nher arms pressed tightly across her chest. In her white dressing gown\nher figure seemed more than usually grand and broad. She bent her head,\nand with shining, wet eyes looked from under her brows at Dolly, a thin\nlittle pitiful figure in her patched dressing jacket and nightcap,\nshaking all over with emotion.\n\n\"It is only those two creatures that I love, and one excludes the other.\nI can't have them together, and that's the only thing I want. And since\nI can't have that, I don't care about the rest. I don't care about\nanything, anything. And it will end one way or another, and so I can't,\nI don't like to talk of it. So don't blame me, don't judge me for\nanything. You can't with your pure heart understand all that I'm\nsuffering.\" She went up, sat down beside Dolly, and with a guilty look,\npeeped into her face and took her hand.\n\n\"What are you thinking? What are you thinking about me? Don't despise\nme. I don't deserve contempt. I'm simply unhappy. If anyone is unhappy,\nI am,\" she articulated, and turning away, she burst into tears.\n\nLeft alone, Darya Alexandrovna said her prayers and went to bed. She had\nfelt for Anna with all her heart while she was speaking to her, but now\nshe could not force herself to think of her. The memories of home and of\nher children rose up in her imagination with a peculiar charm quite new\nto her, with a sort of new brilliance. That world of her own seemed to\nher now so sweet and precious that she would not on any account spend an\nextra day outside it, and she made up her mind that she would certainly\ngo back next day.\n\nAnna meantime went back to her boudoir, took a wine glass and dropped\ninto it several drops of a medicine, of which the principal ingredient\nwas morphine. After drinking it off and sitting still a little while,\nshe went into her bedroom in a soothed and more cheerful frame of mind.\n\nWhen she went into the bedroom, Vronsky looked intently at her. He was\nlooking for traces of the conversation which he knew that, staying so\nlong in Dolly's room, she must have had with her. But in her expression\nof restrained excitement, and of a sort of reserve, he could find\nnothing but the beauty that always bewitched him afresh though he was\nused to it, the consciousness of it, and the desire that it should\naffect him. He did not want to ask her what they had been talking of,\nbut he hoped that she would tell him something of her own accord. But\nshe only said:\n\n\"I am so glad you like Dolly. You do, don't you?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've known her a long while, you know. She's very good-hearted, I\nsuppose, _mais excessivement terre-a-terre._ Still, I'm very glad to see\nher.\"\n\nHe took Anna's hand and looked inquiringly into her eyes.\n\nMisinterpreting the look, she smiled to him. Next morning, in spite of\nthe protests of her hosts, Darya Alexandrovna prepared for her homeward\njourney. Levin's coachman, in his by no means new coat and shabby hat,\nwith his ill-matched horses and his coach with the patched mud-guards,\ndrove with gloomy determination into the covered gravel approach.\n\nDarya Alexandrovna disliked taking leave of Princess Varvara and the\ngentlemen of the party. After a day spent together, both she and her\nhosts were distinctly aware that they did not get on together, and that\nit was better for them not to meet. Only Anna was sad. She knew that\nnow, from Dolly's departure, no one again would stir up within her soul\nthe feelings that had been roused by their conversation. It hurt her to\nstir up these feelings, but yet she knew that that was the best part of\nher soul, and that that part of her soul would quickly be smothered in\nthe life she was leading.\n\nAs she drove out into the open country, Darya Alexandrovna had a\ndelightful sense of relief, and she felt tempted to ask the two men how\nthey had liked being at Vronsky's, when suddenly the coachman, Philip,\nexpressed himself unasked:\n\n\"Rolling in wealth they may be, but three pots of oats was all they gave\nus. Everything cleared up till there wasn't a grain left by cockcrow.\nWhat are three pots? A mere mouthful! And oats now down to forty-five\nkopecks. At our place, no fear, all comers may have as much as they can\neat.\"\n\n\"The master's a screw,\" put in the counting house clerk.\n\n\"Well, did you like their horses?\" asked Dolly.\n\n\"The horses!--there's no two opinions about them. And the food was good.\nBut it seemed to me sort of dreary there, Darya Alexandrovna. I don't\nknow what you thought,\" he said, turning his handsome, good-natured face\nto her.\n\n\"I thought so too. Well, shall we get home by evening?\"\n\n\"Eh, we must!\"\n\nOn reaching home and finding everyone entirely satisfactory and\nparticularly charming, Darya Alexandrovna began with great liveliness\ntelling them how she had arrived, how warmly they had received her, of\nthe luxury and good taste in which the Vronskys lived, and of their\nrecreations, and she would not allow a word to be said against them.\n\n\"One has to know Anna and Vronsky--I have got to know him better now--to\nsee how nice they are, and how touching,\" she said, speaking now with\nperfect sincerity, and forgetting the vague feeling of dissatisfaction\nand awkwardness she had experienced there.\n\n\n\nChapter 25\n\n\nVronsky and Anna spent the whole summer and part of the winter in the\ncountry, living in just the same condition, and still taking no steps to\nobtain a divorce. It was an understood thing between them that they\nshould not go away anywhere; but both felt, the longer they lived alone,\nespecially in the autumn, without guests in the house, that they could\nnot stand this existence, and that they would have to alter it.\n\nTheir life was apparently such that nothing better could be desired.\nThey had the fullest abundance of everything; they had a child, and both\nhad occupation. Anna devoted just as much care to her appearance when\nthey had no visitors, and she did a great deal of reading, both of\nnovels and of what serious literature was in fashion. She ordered all\nthe books that were praised in the foreign papers and reviews she\nreceived, and read them with that concentrated attention which is only\ngiven to what is read in seclusion. Moreover, every subject that was of\ninterest to Vronsky, she studied in books and special journals, so that\nhe often went straight to her with questions relating to agriculture or\narchitecture, sometimes even with questions relating to horse-breeding\nor sport. He was amazed at her knowledge, her memory, and at first was\ndisposed to doubt it, to ask for confirmation of her facts; and she\nwould find what he asked for in some book, and show it to him.\n\nThe building of the hospital, too, interested her. She did not merely\nassist, but planned and suggested a great deal herself. But her chief\nthought was still of herself--how far she was dear to Vronsky, how far\nshe could make up to him for all he had given up. Vronsky appreciated\nthis desire not only to please, but to serve him, which had become the\nsole aim of her existence, but at the same time he wearied of the loving\nsnares in which she tried to hold him fast. As time went on, and he saw\nhimself more and more often held fast in these snares, he had an ever\ngrowing desire, not so much to escape from them, as to try whether they\nhindered his freedom. Had it not been for this growing desire to be\nfree, not to have scenes every time he wanted to go to the town to a\nmeeting or a race, Vronsky would have been perfectly satisfied with his\nlife. The role he had taken up, the role of a wealthy landowner, one of\nthat class which ought to be the very heart of the Russian aristocracy,\nwas entirely to his taste; and now, after spending six months in that\ncharacter, he derived even greater satisfaction from it. And his\nmanagement of his estate, which occupied and absorbed him more and more,\nwas most successful. In spite of the immense sums cost him by the\nhospital, by machinery, by cows ordered from Switzerland, and many other\nthings, he was convinced that he was not wasting, but increasing his\nsubstance. In all matters affecting income, the sales of timber, wheat,\nand wool, the letting of lands, Vronsky was hard as a rock, and knew\nwell how to keep up prices. In all operations on a large scale on this\nand his other estates, he kept to the simplest methods involving no\nrisk, and in trifling details he was careful and exacting to an extreme\ndegree. In spite of all the cunning and ingenuity of the German steward,\nwho would try to tempt him into purchases by making his original\nestimate always far larger than really required, and then representing\nto Vronsky that he might get the thing cheaper, and so make a profit,\nVronsky did not give in. He listened to his steward, cross-examined him,\nand only agreed to his suggestions when the implement to be ordered or\nconstructed was the very newest, not yet known in Russia, and likely to\nexcite wonder. Apart from such exceptions, he resolved upon an increased\noutlay only where there was a surplus, and in making such an outlay he\nwent into the minutest details, and insisted on getting the very best\nfor his money; so that by the method on which he managed his affairs, it\nwas clear that he was not wasting, but increasing his substance.\n\nIn October there were the provincial elections in the Kashinsky\nprovince, where were the estates of Vronsky, Sviazhsky, Koznishev,\nOblonsky, and a small part of Levin's land.\n\nThese elections were attracting public attention from several\ncircumstances connected with them, and also from the people taking part\nin them. There had been a great deal of talk about them, and great\npreparations were being made for them. Persons who never attended the\nelections were coming from Moscow, from Petersburg, and from abroad to\nattend these. Vronsky had long before promised Sviazhsky to go to them.\nBefore the elections Sviazhsky, who often visited Vozdvizhenskoe, drove\nover to fetch Vronsky. On the day before there had been almost a quarrel\nbetween Vronsky and Anna over this proposed expedition. It was the very\ndullest autumn weather, which is so dreary in the country, and so,\npreparing himself for a struggle, Vronsky, with a hard and cold\nexpression, informed Anna of his departure as he had never spoken to her\nbefore. But, to his surprise, Anna accepted the information with great\ncomposure, and merely asked when he would be back. He looked intently at\nher, at a loss to explain this composure. She smiled at his look. He\nknew that way she had of withdrawing into herself, and knew that it only\nhappened when she had determined upon something without letting him know\nher plans. He was afraid of this; but he was so anxious to avoid a scene\nthat he kept up appearances, and half sincerely believed in what he\nlonged to believe in--her reasonableness.\n\n\"I hope you won't be dull?\"\n\n\"I hope not,\" said Anna. \"I got a box of books yesterday from Gautier's.\nNo, I shan't be dull.\"\n\n\"She's trying to take that tone, and so much the better,\" he thought,\n\"or else it would be the same thing over and over again.\"\n\nAnd he set off for the elections without appealing to her for a candid\nexplanation. It was the first time since the beginning of their intimacy\nthat he had parted from her without a full explanation. From one point\nof view this troubled him, but on the other side he felt that it was\nbetter so. \"At first there will be, as this time, something undefined\nkept back, and then she will get used to it. In any case I can give up\nanything for her, but not my masculine independence,\" he thought.\n\n\n\nChapter 26\n\n\nIn September Levin moved to Moscow for Kitty's confinement. He had spent\na whole month in Moscow with nothing to do, when Sergey Ivanovitch, who\nhad property in the Kashinsky province, and took great interest in the\nquestion of the approaching elections, made ready to set off to the\nelections. He invited his brother, who had a vote in the Seleznevsky\ndistrict, to come with him. Levin had, moreover, to transact in Kashin\nsome extremely important business relating to the wardship of land and\nto the receiving of certain redemption money for his sister, who was\nabroad.\n\nLevin still hesitated, but Kitty, who saw that he was bored in Moscow,\nand urged him to go, on her own authority ordered him the proper\nnobleman's uniform, costing seven pounds. And that seven pounds paid for\nthe uniform was the chief cause that finally decided Levin to go. He\nwent to Kashin....\n\nLevin had been six days in Kashin, visiting the assembly each day, and\nbusily engaged about his sister's business, which still dragged on. The\ndistrict marshals of nobility were all occupied with the elections, and\nit was impossible to get the simplest thing done that depended upon the\ncourt of wardship. The other matter, the payment of the sums due, was\nmet too by difficulties. After long negotiations over the legal details,\nthe money was at last ready to be paid; but the notary, a most obliging\nperson, could not hand over the order, because it must have the\nsignature of the president, and the president, though he had not given\nover his duties to a deputy, was at the elections. All these worrying\nnegotiations, this endless going from place to place, and talking with\npleasant and excellent people, who quite saw the unpleasantness of the\npetitioner's position, but were powerless to assist him--all these\nefforts that yielded no result, led to a feeling of misery in Levin akin\nto the mortifying helplessness one experiences in dreams when one tries\nto use physical force. He felt this frequently as he talked to his most\ngood-natured solicitor. This solicitor did, it seemed, everything\npossible, and strained every nerve to get him out of his difficulties.\n\"I tell you what you might try,\" he said more than once; \"go to\nso-and-so and so-and-so,\" and the solicitor drew up a regular plan for\ngetting round the fatal point that hindered everything. But he would add\nimmediately, \"It'll mean some delay, anyway, but you might try it.\" And\nLevin did try, and did go. Everyone was kind and civil, but the point\nevaded seemed to crop up again in the end, and again to bar the way.\nWhat was particularly trying, was that Levin could not make out with\nwhom he was struggling, to whose interest it was that his business\nshould not be done. That no one seemed to know; the solicitor certainly\ndid not know. If Levin could have understood why, just as he saw why one\ncan only approach the booking office of a railway station in single\nfile, it would not have been so vexatious and tiresome to him. But with\nthe hindrances that confronted him in his business, no one could explain\nwhy they existed.\n\nBut Levin had changed a good deal since his marriage; he was patient,\nand if he could not see why it was all arranged like this, he told\nhimself that he could not judge without knowing all about it, and that\nmost likely it must be so, and he tried not to fret.\n\nIn attending the elections, too, and taking part in them, he tried now\nnot to judge, not to fall foul of them, but to comprehend as fully as he\ncould the question which was so earnestly and ardently absorbing honest\nand excellent men whom he respected. Since his marriage there had been\nrevealed to Levin so many new and serious aspects of life that had\npreviously, through his frivolous attitude to them, seemed of no\nimportance, that in the question of the elections too he assumed and\ntried to find some serious significance.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch explained to him the meaning and object of the\nproposed revolution at the elections. The marshal of the province in\nwhose hands the law had placed the control of so many important public\nfunctions--the guardianship of wards (the very department which was\ngiving Levin so much trouble just now), the disposal of large sums\nsubscribed by the nobility of the province, the high schools, female,\nmale, and military, and popular instruction on the new model, and\nfinally, the district council--the marshal of the province, Snetkov, was\na nobleman of the old school,--dissipating an immense fortune, a\ngood-hearted man, honest after his own fashion, but utterly without any\ncomprehension of the needs of modern days. He always took, in every\nquestion, the side of the nobility; he was positively antagonistic to\nthe spread of popular education, and he succeeded in giving a purely\nparty character to the district council which ought by rights to be of\nsuch an immense importance. What was needed was to put in his place a\nfresh, capable, perfectly modern man, of contemporary ideas, and to\nframe their policy so as from the rights conferred upon the nobles, not\nas the nobility, but as an element of the district council, to extract\nall the powers of self-government that could possibly be derived from\nthem. In the wealthy Kashinsky province, which always took the lead of\nother provinces in everything, there was now such a preponderance of\nforces that this policy, once carried through properly there, might\nserve as a model for other provinces for all Russia. And hence the whole\nquestion was of the greatest importance. It was proposed to elect as\nmarshal in place of Snetkov either Sviazhsky, or, better still,\nNevyedovsky, a former university professor, a man of remarkable\nintelligence and a great friend of Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\nThe meeting was opened by the governor, who made a speech to the nobles,\nurging them to elect the public functionaries, not from regard for\npersons, but for the service and welfare of their fatherland, and hoping\nthat the honorable nobility of the Kashinsky province would, as at all\nformer elections, hold their duty as sacred, and vindicate the exalted\nconfidence of the monarch.\n\nWhen he had finished with his speech, the governor walked out of the\nhall, and the noblemen noisily and eagerly--some even\nenthusiastically--followed him and thronged round him while he put on\nhis fur coat and conversed amicably with the marshal of the province.\nLevin, anxious to see into everything and not to miss anything, stood\nthere too in the crowd, and heard the governor say: \"Please tell Marya\nIvanovna my wife is very sorry she couldn't come to the Home.\" And\nthereupon the nobles in high good-humor sorted out their fur coats and\nall drove off to the cathedral.\n\nIn the cathedral Levin, lifting his hand like the rest and repeating the\nwords of the archdeacon, swore with most terrible oaths to do all the\ngovernor had hoped they would do. Church services always affected Levin,\nand as he uttered the words \"I kiss the cross,\" and glanced round at the\ncrowd of young and old men repeating the same, he felt touched.\n\nOn the second and third days there was business relating to the finances\nof the nobility and the female high school, of no importance whatever,\nas Sergey Ivanovitch explained, and Levin, busy seeing after his own\naffairs, did not attend the meetings. On the fourth day the auditing of\nthe marshal's accounts took place at the high table of the marshal of\nthe province. And then there occurred the first skirmish between the new\nparty and the old. The committee who had been deputed to verify the\naccounts reported to the meeting that all was in order. The marshal of\nthe province got up, thanked the nobility for their confidence, and shed\ntears. The nobles gave him a loud welcome, and shook hands with him. But\nat that instant a nobleman of Sergey Ivanovitch's party said that he had\nheard that the committee had not verified the accounts, considering such\na verification an insult to the marshal of the province. One of the\nmembers of the committee incautiously admitted this. Then a small\ngentleman, very young-looking but very malignant, began to say that it\nwould probably be agreeable to the marshal of the province to give an\naccount of his expenditures of the public moneys, and that the misplaced\ndelicacy of the members of the committee was depriving him of this moral\nsatisfaction. Then the members of the committee tried to withdraw their\nadmission, and Sergey Ivanovitch began to prove that they must logically\nadmit either that they had verified the accounts or that they had not,\nand he developed this dilemma in detail. Sergey Ivanovitch was answered\nby the spokesman of the opposite party. Then Sviazhsky spoke, and then\nthe malignant gentleman again. The discussion lasted a long time and\nended in nothing. Levin was surprised that they should dispute upon this\nsubject so long, especially as, when he asked Sergey Ivanovitch whether\nhe supposed that money had been misappropriated, Sergey Ivanovitch\nanswered:\n\n\"Oh, no! He's an honest man. But those old-fashioned methods of paternal\nfamily arrangements in the management of provincial affairs must be\nbroken down.\"\n\nOn the fifth day came the elections of the district marshals. It was\nrather a stormy day in several districts. In the Seleznevsky district\nSviazhsky was elected unanimously without a ballot, and he gave a dinner\nthat evening.\n\n\n\nChapter 27\n\n\nThe sixth day was fixed for the election of the marshal of the province.\n\nThe rooms, large and small, were full of noblemen in all sorts of\nuniforms. Many had come only for that day. Men who had not seen each\nother for years, some from the Crimea, some from Petersburg, some from\nabroad, met in the rooms of the Hall of Nobility. There was much\ndiscussion around the governor's table under the portrait of the Tsar.\n\nThe nobles, both in the larger and the smaller rooms, grouped themselves\nin camps, and from their hostile and suspicious glances, from the\nsilence that fell upon them when outsiders approached a group, and from\nthe way that some, whispering together, retreated to the farther\ncorridor, it was evident that each side had secrets from the other. In\nappearance the noblemen were sharply divided into two classes: the old\nand the new. The old were for the most part either in old uniforms of\nthe nobility, buttoned up closely, with spurs and hats, or in their own\nspecial naval, cavalry, infantry, or official uniforms. The uniforms of\nthe older men were embroidered in the old-fashioned way with epaulets on\ntheir shoulders; they were unmistakably tight and short in the waist, as\nthough their wearers had grown out of them. The younger men wore the\nuniform of the nobility with long waists and broad shoulders, unbuttoned\nover white waistcoats, or uniforms with black collars and with the\nembroidered badges of justices of the peace. To the younger men belonged\nthe court uniforms that here and there brightened up the crowd.\n\nBut the division into young and old did not correspond with the division\nof parties. Some of the young men, as Levin observed, belonged to the\nold party; and some of the very oldest noblemen, on the contrary, were\nwhispering with Sviazhsky, and were evidently ardent partisans of the\nnew party.\n\nLevin stood in the smaller room, where they were smoking and taking\nlight refreshments, close to his own friends, and listening to what they\nwere saying, he conscientiously exerted all his intelligence trying to\nunderstand what was said. Sergey Ivanovitch was the center round which\nthe others grouped themselves. He was listening at that moment to\nSviazhsky and Hliustov, the marshal of another district, who belonged to\ntheir party. Hliustov would not agree to go with his district to ask\nSnetkov to stand, while Sviazhsky was persuading him to do so, and\nSergey Ivanovitch was approving of the plan. Levin could not make out\nwhy the opposition was to ask the marshal to stand whom they wanted to\nsupersede.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch, who had just been drinking and taking some lunch,\ncame up to them in his uniform of a gentleman of the bedchamber, wiping\nhis lips with a perfumed handkerchief of bordered batiste.\n\n\"We are placing our forces,\" he said, pulling out his whiskers, \"Sergey\nIvanovitch!\"\n\nAnd listening to the conversation, he supported Sviazhsky's contention.\n\n\"One district's enough, and Sviazhsky's obviously of the opposition,\" he\nsaid, words evidently intelligible to all except Levin.\n\n\"Why, Kostya, you here too! I suppose you're converted, eh?\" he added,\nturning to Levin and drawing his arm through his. Levin would have been\nglad indeed to be converted, but could not make out what the point was,\nand retreating a few steps from the speakers, he explained to Stepan\nArkadyevitch his inability to understand why the marshal of the province\nshould be asked to stand.\n\n_\"O sancta simplicitas!\"_ said Stepan Arkadyevitch, and briefly and\nclearly he explained it to Levin. If, as at previous elections, all the\ndistricts asked the marshal of the province to stand, then he would be\nelected without a ballot. That must not be. Now eight districts had\nagreed to call upon him: if two refused to do so, Snetkov might decline\nto stand at all; and then the old party might choose another of their\nparty, which would throw them completely out in their reckoning. But if\nonly one district, Sviazhsky's, did not call upon him to stand, Snetkov\nwould let himself be balloted for. They were even, some of them, going\nto vote for him, and purposely to let him get a good many votes, so that\nthe enemy might be thrown off the scent, and when a candidate of the\nother side was put up, they too might give him some votes. Levin\nunderstood to some extent, but not fully, and would have put a few more\nquestions, when suddenly everyone began talking and making a noise and\nthey moved towards the big room.\n\n\"What is it? eh? whom?\" \"No guarantee? whose? what?\" \"They won't pass\nhim?\" \"No guarantee?\" \"They won't let Flerov in?\" \"Eh, because of the\ncharge against him?\" \"Why, at this rate, they won't admit anyone. It's a\nswindle!\" \"The law!\" Levin heard exclamations on all sides, and he moved\ninto the big room together with the others, all hurrying somewhere and\nafraid of missing something. Squeezed by the crowding noblemen, he drew\nnear the high table where the marshal of the province, Sviazhsky, and\nthe other leaders were hotly disputing about something.\n\n\n\nChapter 28\n\n\nLevin was standing rather far off. A nobleman breathing heavily and\nhoarsely at his side, and another whose thick boots were creaking,\nprevented him from hearing distinctly. He could only hear the soft voice\nof the marshal faintly, then the shrill voice of the malignant\ngentleman, and then the voice of Sviazhsky. They were disputing, as far\nas he could make out, as to the interpretation to be put on the act and\nthe exact meaning of the words: \"liable to be called up for trial.\"\n\nThe crowd parted to make way for Sergey Ivanovitch approaching the\ntable. Sergey Ivanovitch, waiting till the malignant gentleman had\nfinished speaking, said that he thought the best solution would be to\nrefer to the act itself, and asked the secretary to find the act. The\nact said that in case of difference of opinion, there must be a ballot.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch read the act and began to explain its meaning, but at\nthat point a tall, stout, round-shouldered landowner, with dyed\nwhiskers, in a tight uniform that cut the back of his neck, interrupted\nhim. He went up to the table, and striking it with his finger ring, he\nshouted loudly: \"A ballot! Put it to the vote! No need for more\ntalking!\" Then several voices began to talk all at once, and the tall\nnobleman with the ring, getting more and more exasperated, shouted more\nand more loudly. But it was impossible to make out what he said.\n\nHe was shouting for the very course Sergey Ivanovitch had proposed; but\nit was evident that he hated him and all his party, and this feeling of\nhatred spread through the whole party and roused in opposition to it the\nsame vindictiveness, though in a more seemly form, on the other side.\nShouts were raised, and for a moment all was confusion, so that the\nmarshal of the province had to call for order.\n\n\"A ballot! A ballot! Every nobleman sees it! We shed our blood for our\ncountry!... The confidence of the monarch.... No checking the accounts\nof the marshal; he's not a cashier.... But that's not the point....\nVotes, please! Beastly!...\" shouted furious and violent voices on all\nsides. Looks and faces were even more violent and furious than their\nwords. They expressed the most implacable hatred. Levin did not in the\nleast understand what was the matter, and he marveled at the passion\nwith which it was disputed whether or not the decision about Flerov\nshould be put to the vote. He forgot, as Sergey Ivanovitch explained to\nhim afterwards, this syllogism: that it was necessary for the public\ngood to get rid of the marshal of the province; that to get rid of the\nmarshal it was necessary to have a majority of votes; that to get a\nmajority of votes it was necessary to secure Flerov's right to vote;\nthat to secure the recognition of Flerov's right to vote they must\ndecide on the interpretation to be put on the act.\n\n\"And one vote may decide the whole question, and one must be serious and\nconsecutive, if one wants to be of use in public life,\" concluded Sergey\nIvanovitch. But Levin forgot all that, and it was painful to him to see\nall these excellent persons, for whom he had a respect, in such an\nunpleasant and vicious state of excitement. To escape from this painful\nfeeling he went away into the other room where there was nobody except\nthe waiters at the refreshment bar. Seeing the waiters busy over washing\nup the crockery and setting in order their plates and wine glasses,\nseeing their calm and cheerful faces, Levin felt an unexpected sense of\nrelief as though he had come out of a stuffy room into the fresh air. He\nbegan walking up and down, looking with pleasure at the waiters. He\nparticularly liked the way one gray-whiskered waiter, who showed his\nscorn for the other younger ones and was jeered at by them, was teaching\nthem how to fold up napkins properly. Levin was just about to enter into\nconversation with the old waiter, when the secretary of the court of\nwardship, a little old man whose specialty it was to know all the\nnoblemen of the province by name and patronymic, drew him away.\n\n\"Please come, Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\" he said, \"your brother's looking\nfor you. They are voting on the legal point.\"\n\nLevin walked into the room, received a white ball, and followed his\nbrother, Sergey Ivanovitch, to the table where Sviazhsky was standing\nwith a significant and ironical face, holding his beard in his fist and\nsniffing at it. Sergey Ivanovitch put his hand into the box, put the\nball somewhere, and making room for Levin, stopped. Levin advanced, but\nutterly forgetting what he was to do, and much embarrassed, he turned to\nSergey Ivanovitch with the question, \"Where am I to put it?\" He asked\nthis softly, at a moment when there was talking going on near, so that\nhe had hoped his question would not be overheard. But the persons\nspeaking paused, and his improper question was overheard. Sergey\nIvanovitch frowned.\n\n\"That is a matter for each man's own decision,\" he said severely.\n\nSeveral people smiled. Levin crimsoned, hurriedly thrust his hand under\nthe cloth, and put the ball to the right as it was in his right hand.\nHaving put it in, he recollected that he ought to have thrust his left\nhand too, and so he thrust it in though too late, and, still more\novercome with confusion, he beat a hasty retreat into the background.\n\n\"A hundred and twenty-six for admission! Ninety-eight against!\" sang out\nthe voice of the secretary, who could not pronounce the letter _r_. Then\nthere was a laugh; a button and two nuts were found in the box. The\nnobleman was allowed the right to vote, and the new party had conquered.\n\nBut the old party did not consider themselves conquered. Levin heard\nthat they were asking Snetkov to stand, and he saw that a crowd of\nnoblemen was surrounding the marshal, who was saying something. Levin\nwent nearer. In reply Snetkov spoke of the trust the noblemen of the\nprovince had placed in him, the affection they had shown him, which he\ndid not deserve, as his only merit had been his attachment to the\nnobility, to whom he had devoted twelve years of service. Several times\nhe repeated the words: \"I have served to the best of my powers with\ntruth and good faith, I value your goodness and thank you,\" and suddenly\nhe stopped short from the tears that choked him, and went out of the\nroom. Whether these tears came from a sense of the injustice being done\nhim, from his love for the nobility, or from the strain of the position\nhe was placed in, feeling himself surrounded by enemies, his emotion\ninfected the assembly, the majority were touched, and Levin felt a\ntenderness for Snetkov.\n\nIn the doorway the marshal of the province jostled against Levin.\n\n\"Beg pardon, excuse me, please,\" he said as to a stranger, but\nrecognizing Levin, he smiled timidly. It seemed to Levin that he would\nhave liked to say something, but could not speak for emotion. His face\nand his whole figure in his uniform with the crosses, and white trousers\nstriped with braid, as he moved hurriedly along, reminded Levin of some\nhunted beast who sees that he is in evil case. This expression in the\nmarshal's face was particularly touching to Levin, because, only the day\nbefore, he had been at his house about his trustee business and had seen\nhim in all his grandeur, a kind-hearted, fatherly man. The big house\nwith the old family furniture; the rather dirty, far from stylish, but\nrespectful footmen, unmistakably old house serfs who had stuck to their\nmaster; the stout, good-natured wife in a cap with lace and a Turkish\nshawl, petting her pretty grandchild, her daughter's daughter; the young\nson, a sixth form high school boy, coming home from school, and greeting\nhis father, kissing his big hand; the genuine, cordial words and\ngestures of the old man--all this had the day before roused an\ninstinctive feeling of respect and sympathy in Levin. This old man was a\ntouching and pathetic figure to Levin now, and he longed to say\nsomething pleasant to him.\n\n\"So you're sure to be our marshal again,\" he said.\n\n\"It's not likely,\" said the marshal, looking round with a scared\nexpression. \"I'm worn out, I'm old. If there are men younger and more\ndeserving than I, let them serve.\"\n\nAnd the marshal disappeared through a side door.\n\nThe most solemn moment was at hand. They were to proceed immediately to\nthe election. The leaders of both parties were reckoning white and black\non their fingers.\n\nThe discussion upon Flerov had given the new party not only Flerov's\nvote, but had also gained time for them, so that they could send to\nfetch three noblemen who had been rendered unable to take part in the\nelections by the wiles of the other party. Two noble gentlemen, who had\na weakness for strong drink, had been made drunk by the partisans of\nSnetkov, and a third had been robbed of his uniform.\n\nOn learning this, the new party had made haste, during the dispute about\nFlerov, to send some of their men in a sledge to clothe the stripped\ngentleman, and to bring along one of the intoxicated to the meeting.\n\n\"I've brought one, drenched him with water,\" said the landowner, who had\ngone on this errand, to Sviazhsky. \"He's all right? he'll do.\"\n\n\"Not too drunk, he won't fall down?\" said Sviazhsky, shaking his head.\n\n\"No, he's first-rate. If only they don't give him any more here.... I've\ntold the waiter not to give him anything on any account.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 29\n\n\nThe narrow room, in which they were smoking and taking refreshments, was\nfull of noblemen. The excitement grew more intense, and every face\nbetrayed some uneasiness. The excitement was specially keen for the\nleaders of each party, who knew every detail, and had reckoned up every\nvote. They were the generals organizing the approaching battle. The\nrest, like the rank and file before an engagement, though they were\ngetting ready for the fight, sought for other distractions in the\ninterval. Some were lunching, standing at the bar, or sitting at the\ntable; others were walking up and down the long room, smoking\ncigarettes, and talking with friends whom they had not seen for a long\nwhile.\n\nLevin did not care to eat, and he was not smoking; he did not want to\njoin his own friends, that is Sergey Ivanovitch, Stepan Arkadyevitch,\nSviazhsky and the rest, because Vronsky in his equerry's uniform was\nstanding with them in eager conversation. Levin had seen him already at\nthe meeting on the previous day, and he had studiously avoided him, not\ncaring to greet him. He went to the window and sat down, scanning the\ngroups, and listening to what was being said around him. He felt\ndepressed, especially because everyone else was, as he saw, eager,\nanxious, and interested, and he alone, with an old, toothless little man\nwith mumbling lips wearing a naval uniform, sitting beside him, had no\ninterest in it and nothing to do.\n\n\"He's such a blackguard! I have told him so, but it makes no difference.\nOnly think of it! He couldn't collect it in three years!\" he heard\nvigorously uttered by a round-shouldered, short, country gentleman, who\nhad pomaded hair hanging on his embroidered collar, and new boots\nobviously put on for the occasion, with heels that tapped energetically\nas he spoke. Casting a displeased glance at Levin, this gentleman\nsharply turned his back.\n\n\"Yes, it's a dirty business, there's no denying,\" a small gentleman\nassented in a high voice.\n\nNext, a whole crowd of country gentlemen, surrounding a stout general,\nhurriedly came near Levin. These persons were unmistakably seeking a\nplace where they could talk without being overheard.\n\n\"How dare he say I had his breeches stolen! Pawned them for drink, I\nexpect. Damn the fellow, prince indeed! He'd better not say it, the\nbeast!\"\n\n\"But excuse me! They take their stand on the act,\" was being said in\nanother group; \"the wife must be registered as noble.\"\n\n\"Oh, damn your acts! I speak from my heart. We're all gentlemen, aren't\nwe? Above suspicion.\"\n\n\"Shall we go on, your excellency, _fine champagne?_\"\n\nAnother group was following a nobleman, who was shouting something in a\nloud voice; it was one of the three intoxicated gentlemen.\n\n\"I always advised Marya Semyonovna to let for a fair rent, for she can\nnever save a profit,\" he heard a pleasant voice say. The speaker was a\ncountry gentleman with gray whiskers, wearing the regimental uniform of\nan old general staff-officer. It was the very landowner Levin had met at\nSviazhsky's. He knew him at once. The landowner too stared at Levin, and\nthey exchanged greetings.\n\n\"Very glad to see you! To be sure! I remember you very well. Last year\nat our district marshal, Nikolay Ivanovitch's.\"\n\n\"Well, and how is your land doing?\" asked Levin.\n\n\"Oh, still just the same, always at a loss,\" the landowner answered with\na resigned smile, but with an expression of serenity and conviction that\nso it must be. \"And how do you come to be in our province?\" he asked.\n\"Come to take part in our _coup d'etat?_\" he said, confidently\npronouncing the French words with a bad accent. \"All Russia's\nhere--gentlemen of the bedchamber, and everything short of the\nministry.\" He pointed to the imposing figure of Stepan Arkadyevitch in\nwhite trousers and his court uniform, walking by with a general.\n\n\"I ought to own that I don't very well understand the drift of the\nprovincial elections,\" said Levin.\n\nThe landowner looked at him.\n\n\"Why, what is there to understand? There's no meaning in it at all. It's\na decaying institution that goes on running only by the force of\ninertia. Just look, the very uniforms tell you that it's an assembly of\njustices of the peace, permanent members of the court, and so on, but\nnot of noblemen.\"\n\n\"Then why do you come?\" asked Levin.\n\n\"From habit, nothing else. Then, too, one must keep up connections. It's\na moral obligation of a sort. And then, to tell the truth, there's one's\nown interests. My son-in-law wants to stand as a permanent member;\nthey're not rich people, and he must be brought forward. These\ngentlemen, now, what do they come for?\" he said, pointing to the\nmalignant gentleman, who was talking at the high table.\n\n\"That's the new generation of nobility.\"\n\n\"New it may be, but nobility it isn't. They're proprietors of a sort,\nbut we're the landowners. As noblemen, they're cutting their own\nthroats.\"\n\n\"But you say it's an institution that's served its time.\"\n\n\"That it may be, but still it ought to be treated a little more\nrespectfully. Snetkov, now.... We may be of use, or we may not, but\nwe're the growth of a thousand years. If we're laying out a garden,\nplanning one before the house, you know, and there you've a tree that's\nstood for centuries in the very spot.... Old and gnarled it may be, and\nyet you don't cut down the old fellow to make room for the flowerbeds,\nbut lay out your beds so as to take advantage of the tree. You won't\ngrow him again in a year,\" he said cautiously, and he immediately\nchanged the conversation. \"Well, and how is your land doing?\"\n\n\"Oh, not very well. I make five per cent.\"\n\n\"Yes, but you don't reckon your own work. Aren't you worth something\ntoo? I'll tell you my own case. Before I took to seeing after the land,\nI had a salary of three hundred pounds from the service. Now I do more\nwork than I did in the service, and like you I get five per cent. on the\nland, and thank God for that. But one's work is thrown in for nothing.\"\n\n\"Then why do you do it, if it's a clear loss?\"\n\n\"Oh, well, one does it! What would you have? It's habit, and one knows\nit's how it should be. And what's more,\" the landowner went on, leaning\nhis elbows on the window and chatting on, \"my son, I must tell you, has\nno taste for it. There's no doubt he'll be a scientific man. So there'll\nbe no one to keep it up. And yet one does it. Here this year I've\nplanted an orchard.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Levin, \"that's perfectly true. I always feel there's no\nreal balance of gain in my work on the land, and yet one does it....\nIt's a sort of duty one feels to the land.\"\n\n\"But I tell you what,\" the landowner pursued; \"a neighbor of mine, a\nmerchant, was at my place. We walked about the fields and the garden.\n'No,' said he, 'Stepan Vassilievitch, everything's well looked after,\nbut your garden's neglected.' But, as a fact, it's well kept up. 'To my\nthinking, I'd cut down that lime-tree. Here you've thousands of limes,\nand each would make two good bundles of bark. And nowadays that bark's\nworth something. I'd cut down the lot.'\"\n\n\"And with what he made he'd increase his stock, or buy some land for a\ntrifle, and let it out in lots to the peasants,\" Levin added, smiling.\nHe had evidently more than once come across those commercial\ncalculations. \"And he'd make his fortune. But you and I must thank God\nif we keep what we've got and leave it to our children.\"\n\n\"You're married, I've heard?\" said the landowner.\n\n\"Yes,\" Levin answered, with proud satisfaction. \"Yes, it's rather\nstrange,\" he went on. \"So we live without making anything, as though we\nwere ancient vestals set to keep in a fire.\"\n\nThe landowner chuckled under his white mustaches.\n\n\"There are some among us, too, like our friend Nikolay Ivanovitch, or\nCount Vronsky, that's settled here lately, who try to carry on their\nhusbandry as though it were a factory; but so far it leads to nothing\nbut making away with capital on it.\"\n\n\"But why is it we don't do like the merchants? Why don't we cut down our\nparks for timber?\" said Levin, returning to a thought that had struck\nhim.\n\n\"Why, as you said, to keep the fire in. Besides that's not work for a\nnobleman. And our work as noblemen isn't done here at the elections, but\nyonder, each in our corner. There's a class instinct, too, of what one\nought and oughtn't to do. There's the peasants, too, I wonder at them\nsometimes; any good peasant tries to take all the land he can. However\nbad the land is, he'll work it. Without a return too. At a simple loss.\"\n\n\"Just as we do,\" said Levin. \"Very, very glad to have met you,\" he\nadded, seeing Sviazhsky approaching him.\n\n\"And here we've met for the first time since we met at your place,\" said\nthe landowner to Sviazhsky, \"and we've had a good talk too.\"\n\n\"Well, have you been attacking the new order of things?\" said Sviazhsky\nwith a smile.\n\n\"That we're bound to do.\"\n\n\"You've relieved your feelings?\"\n\n\n\nChapter 30\n\n\nSviazhsky took Levin's arm, and went with him to his own friends. This\ntime there was no avoiding Vronsky. He was standing with Stepan\nArkadyevitch and Sergey Ivanovitch, and looking straight at Levin as he\ndrew near.\n\n\"Delighted! I believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you ... at\nPrincess Shtcherbatskaya's,\" he said, giving Levin his hand.\n\n\"Yes, I quite remember our meeting,\" said Levin, and blushing crimson,\nhe turned away immediately, and began talking to his brother.\n\nWith a slight smile Vronsky went on talking to Sviazhsky, obviously\nwithout the slightest inclination to enter into conversation with Levin.\nBut Levin, as he talked to his brother, was continually looking round at\nVronsky, trying to think of something to say to him to gloss over his\nrudeness.\n\n\"What are we waiting for now?\" asked Levin, looking at Sviazhsky and\nVronsky.\n\n\"For Snetkov. He has to refuse or to consent to stand,\" answered\nSviazhsky.\n\n\"Well, and what has he done, consented or not?\"\n\n\"That's the point, that he's done neither,\" said Vronsky.\n\n\"And if he refuses, who will stand then?\" asked Levin, looking at\nVronsky.\n\n\"Whoever chooses to,\" said Sviazhsky.\n\n\"Shall you?\" asked Levin.\n\n\"Certainly not I,\" said Sviazhsky, looking confused, and turning an\nalarmed glance at the malignant gentleman, who was standing beside\nSergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"Who then? Nevyedovsky?\" said Levin, feeling he was putting his foot\ninto it.\n\nBut this was worse still. Nevyedovsky and Sviazhsky were the two\ncandidates.\n\n\"I certainly shall not, under any circumstances,\" answered the malignant\ngentleman.\n\nThis was Nevyedovsky himself. Sviazhsky introduced him to Levin.\n\n\"Well, you find it exciting too?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, winking at\nVronsky. \"It's something like a race. One might bet on it.\"\n\n\"Yes, it is keenly exciting,\" said Vronsky. \"And once taking the thing\nup, one's eager to see it through. It's a fight!\" he said, scowling and\nsetting his powerful jaws.\n\n\"What a capable fellow Sviazhsky is! Sees it all so clearly.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" Vronsky assented indifferently.\n\nA silence followed, during which Vronsky--since he had to look at\nsomething--looked at Levin, at his feet, at his uniform, then at his\nface, and noticing his gloomy eyes fixed upon him, he said, in order to\nsay something:\n\n\"How is it that you, living constantly in the country, are not a justice\nof the peace? You are not in the uniform of one.\"\n\n\"It's because I consider that the justice of the peace is a silly\ninstitution,\" Levin answered gloomily. He had been all the time looking\nfor an opportunity to enter into conversation with Vronsky, so as to\nsmooth over his rudeness at their first meeting.\n\n\"I don't think so, quite the contrary,\" Vronsky said, with quiet\nsurprise.\n\n\"It's a plaything,\" Levin cut him short. \"We don't want justices of the\npeace. I've never had a single thing to do with them during eight years.\nAnd what I have had was decided wrongly by them. The justice of the\npeace is over thirty miles from me. For some matter of two roubles I\nshould have to send a lawyer, who costs me fifteen.\"\n\nAnd he related how a peasant had stolen some flour from the miller, and\nwhen the miller told him of it, had lodged a complaint for slander. All\nthis was utterly uncalled for and stupid, and Levin felt it himself as\nhe said it.\n\n\"Oh, this is such an original fellow!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch with his\nmost soothing, almond-oil smile. \"But come along; I think they're\nvoting....\"\n\nAnd they separated.\n\n\"I can't understand,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, who had observed his\nbrother's clumsiness, \"I can't understand how anyone can be so\nabsolutely devoid of political tact. That's where we Russians are so\ndeficient. The marshal of the province is our opponent, and with him\nyou're _ami cochon_, and you beg him to stand. Count Vronsky, now ...\nI'm not making a friend of him; he's asked me to dinner, and I'm not\ngoing; but he's one of our side--why make an enemy of him? Then you ask\nNevyedovsky if he's going to stand. That's not a thing to do.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't understand it at all! And it's all such nonsense,\" Levin\nanswered gloomily.\n\n\"You say it's all such nonsense, but as soon as you have anything to do\nwith it, you make a muddle.\"\n\nLevin did not answer, and they walked together into the big room.\n\nThe marshal of the province, though he was vaguely conscious in the air\nof some trap being prepared for him, and though he had not been called\nupon by all to stand, had still made up his mind to stand. All was\nsilence in the room. The secretary announced in a loud voice that the\ncaptain of the guards, Mihail Stepanovitch Snetkov, would now be\nballoted for as marshal of the province.\n\nThe district marshals walked carrying plates, on which were balls, from\ntheir tables to the high table, and the election began.\n\n\"Put it in the right side,\" whispered Stepan Arkadyevitch, as with his\nbrother Levin followed the marshal of his district to the table. But\nLevin had forgotten by now the calculations that had been explained to\nhim, and was afraid Stepan Arkadyevitch might be mistaken in saying \"the\nright side.\" Surely Snetkov was the enemy. As he went up, he held the\nball in his right hand, but thinking he was wrong, just at the box he\nchanged to the left hand, and undoubtedly put the ball to the left. An\nadept in the business, standing at the box and seeing by the mere action\nof the elbow where each put his ball, scowled with annoyance. It was no\ngood for him to use his insight.\n\nEverything was still, and the counting of the balls was heard. Then a\nsingle voice rose and proclaimed the numbers for and against. The\nmarshal had been voted for by a considerable majority. All was noise and\neager movement towards the doors. Snetkov came in, and the nobles\nthronged round him, congratulating him.\n\n\"Well, now is it over?\" Levin asked Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"It's only just beginning,\" Sviazhsky said, replying for Sergey\nIvanovitch with a smile. \"Some other candidate may receive more votes\nthan the marshal.\"\n\nLevin had quite forgotten about that. Now he could only remember that\nthere was some sort of trickery in it, but he was too bored to think\nwhat it was exactly. He felt depressed, and longed to get out of the\ncrowd.\n\nAs no one was paying any attention to him, and no one apparently needed\nhim, he quietly slipped away into the little room where the refreshments\nwere, and again had a great sense of comfort when he saw the waiters.\nThe little old waiter pressed him to have something, and Levin agreed.\nAfter eating a cutlet with beans and talking to the waiters of their\nformer masters, Levin, not wishing to go back to the hall, where it was\nall so distasteful to him, proceeded to walk through the galleries. The\ngalleries were full of fashionably dressed ladies, leaning over the\nbalustrade and trying not to lose a single word of what was being said\nbelow. With the ladies were sitting and standing smart lawyers, high\nschool teachers in spectacles, and officers. Everywhere they were\ntalking of the election, and of how worried the marshal was, and how\nsplendid the discussions had been. In one group Levin heard his\nbrother's praises. One lady was telling a lawyer:\n\n\"How glad I am I heard Koznishev! It's worth losing one's dinner. He's\nexquisite! So clear and distinct all of it! There's not one of you in\nthe law courts that speaks like that. The only one is Meidel, and he's\nnot so eloquent by a long way.\"\n\nFinding a free place, Levin leaned over the balustrade and began looking\nand listening.\n\nAll the noblemen were sitting railed off behind barriers according to\ntheir districts. In the middle of the room stood a man in a uniform, who\nshouted in a loud, high voice:\n\n\"As a candidate for the marshalship of the nobility of the province we\ncall upon staff-captain Yevgeney Ivanovitch Apuhtin!\" A dead silence\nfollowed, and then a weak old voice was heard: \"Declined!\"\n\n\"We call upon the privy councilor Pyotr Petrovitch Bol,\" the voice began\nagain.\n\n\"Declined!\" a high boyish voice replied.\n\nAgain it began, and again \"Declined.\" And so it went on for about an\nhour. Levin, with his elbows on the balustrade, looked and listened. At\nfirst he wondered and wanted to know what it meant; then feeling sure\nthat he could not make it out he began to be bored. Then recalling all\nthe excitement and vindictiveness he had seen on all the faces, he felt\nsad; he made up his mind to go, and went downstairs. As he passed\nthrough the entry to the galleries he met a dejected high school boy\nwalking up and down with tired-looking eyes. On the stairs he met a\ncouple--a lady running quickly on her high heels and the jaunty deputy\nprosecutor.\n\n\"I told you you weren't late,\" the deputy prosecutor was saying at the\nmoment when Levin moved aside to let the lady pass.\n\nLevin was on the stairs to the way out, and was just feeling in his\nwaistcoat pocket for the number of his overcoat, when the secretary\novertook him.\n\n\"This way, please, Konstantin Dmitrievitch; they are voting.\"\n\nThe candidate who was being voted on was Nevyedovsky, who had so stoutly\ndenied all idea of standing. Levin went up to the door of the room; it\nwas locked. The secretary knocked, the door opened, and Levin was met by\ntwo red-faced gentlemen, who darted out.\n\n\"I can't stand any more of it,\" said one red-faced gentleman.\n\nAfter them the face of the marshal of the province was poked out. His\nface was dreadful-looking from exhaustion and dismay.\n\n\"I told you not to let any one out!\" he cried to the doorkeeper.\n\n\"I let someone in, your excellency!\"\n\n\"Mercy on us!\" and with a heavy sigh the marshal of the province walked\nwith downcast head to the high table in the middle of the room, his legs\nstaggering in his white trousers.\n\nNevyedovsky had scored a higher majority, as they had planned, and he\nwas the new marshal of the province. Many people were amused, many were\npleased and happy, many were in ecstasies, many were disgusted and\nunhappy. The former marshal of the province was in a state of despair,\nwhich he could not conceal. When Nevyedovsky went out of the room, the\ncrowd thronged round him and followed him enthusiastically, just as they\nhad followed the governor who had opened the meetings, and just as they\nhad followed Snetkov when he was elected.\n\n\n\nChapter 31\n\n\nThe newly elected marshal and many of the successful party dined that\nday with Vronsky.\n\nVronsky had come to the elections partly because he was bored in the\ncountry and wanted to show Anna his right to independence, and also to\nrepay Sviazhsky by his support at the election for all the trouble he\nhad taken for Vronsky at the district council election, but chiefly in\norder strictly to perform all those duties of a nobleman and landowner\nwhich he had taken upon himself. But he had not in the least expected\nthat the election would so interest him, so keenly excite him, and that\nhe would be so good at this kind of thing. He was quite a new man in the\ncircle of the nobility of the province, but his success was\nunmistakable, and he was not wrong in supposing that he had already\nobtained a certain influence. This influence was due to his wealth and\nreputation, the capital house in the town lent him by his old friend\nShirkov, who had a post in the department of finances and was director\nof a flourishing bank in Kashin; the excellent cook Vronsky had brought\nfrom the country, and his friendship with the governor, who was a\nschoolfellow of Vronsky's--a schoolfellow he had patronized and\nprotected indeed. But what contributed more than all to his success was\nhis direct, equable manner with everyone, which very quickly made the\nmajority of the noblemen reverse the current opinion of his supposed\nhaughtiness. He was himself conscious that, except that whimsical\ngentleman married to Kitty Shtcherbatskaya, who had _a propos de bottes_\npoured out a stream of irrelevant absurdities with such spiteful fury,\nevery nobleman with whom he had made acquaintance had become his\nadherent. He saw clearly, and other people recognized it, too, that he\nhad done a great deal to secure the success of Nevyedovsky. And now at\nhis own table, celebrating Nevyedovsky's election, he was experiencing\nan agreeable sense of triumph over the success of his candidate. The\nelection itself had so fascinated him that, if he could succeed in\ngetting married during the next three years, he began to think of\nstanding himself--much as after winning a race ridden by a jockey, he\nhad longed to ride a race himself.\n\nToday he was celebrating the success of his jockey. Vronsky sat at the\nhead of the table, on his right hand sat the young governor, a general\nof high rank. To all the rest he was the chief man in the province, who\nhad solemnly opened the elections with his speech, and aroused a feeling\nof respect and even of awe in many people, as Vronsky saw; to Vronsky he\nwas little Katka Maslov--that had been his nickname in the Pages'\nCorps--whom he felt to be shy and tried to _mettre a son aise_. On the\nleft hand sat Nevyedovsky with his youthful, stubborn, and malignant\nface. With him Vronsky was simple and deferential.\n\nSviazhsky took his failure very light-heartedly. It was indeed no\nfailure in his eyes, as he said himself, turning, glass in hand, to\nNevyedovsky; they could not have found a better representative of the\nnew movement, which the nobility ought to follow. And so every honest\nperson, as he said, was on the side of today's success and was rejoicing\nover it.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was glad, too, that he was having a good time, and\nthat everyone was pleased. The episode of the elections served as a good\noccasion for a capital dinner. Sviazhsky comically imitated the tearful\ndiscourse of the marshal, and observed, addressing Nevyedovsky, that his\nexcellency would have to select another more complicated method of\nauditing the accounts than tears. Another nobleman jocosely described\nhow footmen in stockings had been ordered for the marshal's ball, and\nhow now they would have to be sent back unless the new marshal would\ngive a ball with footmen in stockings.\n\nContinually during dinner they said of Nevyedovsky: \"our marshal,\" and\n\"your excellency.\"\n\nThis was said with the same pleasure with which a bride is called\n\"Madame\" and her husband's name. Nevyedovsky affected to be not merely\nindifferent but scornful of this appellation, but it was obvious that he\nwas highly delighted, and had to keep a curb on himself not to betray\nthe triumph which was unsuitable to their new liberal tone.\n\nAfter dinner several telegrams were sent to people interested in the\nresult of the election. And Stepan Arkadyevitch, who was in high good\nhumor, sent Darya Alexandrovna a telegram: \"Nevyedovsky elected by\ntwenty votes. Congratulations. Tell people.\" He dictated it aloud,\nsaying: \"We must let them share our rejoicing.\" Darya Alexandrovna,\ngetting the message, simply sighed over the rouble wasted on it, and\nunderstood that it was an after-dinner affair. She knew Stiva had a\nweakness after dining for _faire jouer le telegraphe._\n\nEverything, together with the excellent dinner and the wine, not from\nRussian merchants, but imported direct from abroad, was extremely\ndignified, simple, and enjoyable. The party--some twenty--had been\nselected by Sviazhsky from among the more active new liberals, all of\nthe same way of thinking, who were at the same time clever and well\nbred. They drank, also half in jest, to the health of the new marshal of\nthe province, of the governor, of the bank director, and of \"our amiable\nhost.\"\n\nVronsky was satisfied. He had never expected to find so pleasant a tone\nin the provinces.\n\nTowards the end of dinner it was still more lively. The governor asked\nVronsky to come to a concert for the benefit of the Servians which his\nwife, who was anxious to make his acquaintance, had been getting up.\n\n\"There'll be a ball, and you'll see the belle of the province. Worth\nseeing, really.\"\n\n\"Not in my line,\" Vronsky answered. He liked that English phrase. But he\nsmiled, and promised to come.\n\nBefore they rose from the table, when all of them were smoking,\nVronsky's valet went up to him with a letter on a tray.\n\n\"From Vozdvizhenskoe by special messenger,\" he said with a significant\nexpression.\n\n\"Astonishing! how like he is to the deputy prosecutor Sventitsky,\" said\none of the guests in French of the valet, while Vronsky, frowning, read\nthe letter.\n\nThe letter was from Anna. Before he read the letter, he knew its\ncontents. Expecting the elections to be over in five days, he had\npromised to be back on Friday. Today was Saturday, and he knew that the\nletter contained reproaches for not being back at the time fixed. The\nletter he had sent the previous evening had probably not reached her\nyet.\n\nThe letter was what he had expected, but the form of it was unexpected,\nand particularly disagreeable to him. \"Annie is very ill, the doctor\nsays it may be inflammation. I am losing my head all alone. Princess\nVarvara is no help, but a hindrance. I expected you the day before\nyesterday, and yesterday, and now I am sending to find out where you are\nand what you are doing. I wanted to come myself, but thought better of\nit, knowing you would dislike it. Send some answer, that I may know what\nto do.\"\n\nThe child ill, yet she had thought of coming herself. Their daughter\nill, and this hostile tone.\n\nThe innocent festivities over the election, and this gloomy, burdensome\nlove to which he had to return struck Vronsky by their contrast. But he\nhad to go, and by the first train that night he set off home.\n\n\n\nChapter 32\n\n\nBefore Vronsky's departure for the elections, Anna had reflected that\nthe scenes constantly repeated between them each time he left home,\nmight only make him cold to her instead of attaching him to her, and\nresolved to do all she could to control herself so as to bear the\nparting with composure. But the cold, severe glance with which he had\nlooked at her when he came to tell her he was going had wounded her, and\nbefore he had started her peace of mind was destroyed.\n\nIn solitude afterwards, thinking over that glance which had expressed\nhis right to freedom, she came, as she always did, to the same\npoint--the sense of her own humiliation. \"He has the right to go away\nwhen and where he chooses. Not simply to go away, but to leave me. He\nhas every right, and I have none. But knowing that, he ought not to do\nit. What has he done, though?... He looked at me with a cold, severe\nexpression. Of course that is something indefinable, impalpable, but it\nhas never been so before, and that glance means a great deal,\" she\nthought. \"That glance shows the beginning of indifference.\"\n\nAnd though she felt sure that a coldness was beginning, there was\nnothing she could do, she could not in any way alter her relations to\nhim. Just as before, only by love and by charm could she keep him. And\nso, just as before, only by occupation in the day, by morphine at night,\ncould she stifle the fearful thought of what would be if he ceased to\nlove her. It is true there was still one means; not to keep him--for\nthat she wanted nothing more than his love--but to be nearer to him, to\nbe in such a position that he would not leave her. That means was\ndivorce and marriage. And she began to long for that, and made up her\nmind to agree to it the first time he or Stiva approached her on the\nsubject.\n\nAbsorbed in such thoughts, she passed five days without him, the five\ndays that he was to be at the elections.\n\nWalks, conversation with Princess Varvara, visits to the hospital, and,\nmost of all, reading--reading of one book after another--filled up her\ntime. But on the sixth day, when the coachman came back without him, she\nfelt that now she was utterly incapable of stifling the thought of him\nand of what he was doing there, just at that time her little girl was\ntaken ill. Anna began to look after her, but even that did not distract\nher mind, especially as the illness was not serious. However hard she\ntried, she could not love this little child, and to feign love was\nbeyond her powers. Towards the evening of that day, still alone, Anna\nwas in such a panic about him that she decided to start for the town,\nbut on second thoughts wrote him the contradictory letter that Vronsky\nreceived, and without reading it through, sent it off by a special\nmessenger. The next morning she received his letter and regretted her\nown. She dreaded a repetition of the severe look he had flung at her at\nparting, especially when he knew that the baby was not dangerously ill.\nBut still she was glad she had written to him. At this moment Anna was\npositively admitting to herself that she was a burden to him, that he\nwould relinquish his freedom regretfully to return to her, and in spite\nof that she was glad he was coming. Let him weary of her, but he would\nbe here with her, so that she would see him, would know of every action\nhe took.\n\nShe was sitting in the drawing room near a lamp, with a new volume of\nTaine, and as she read, listening to the sound of the wind outside, and\nevery minute expecting the carriage to arrive. Several times she had\nfancied she heard the sound of wheels, but she had been mistaken. At\nlast she heard not the sound of wheels, but the coachman's shout and the\ndull rumble in the covered entry. Even Princess Varvara, playing\npatience, confirmed this, and Anna, flushing hotly, got up; but instead\nof going down, as she had done twice before, she stood still. She\nsuddenly felt ashamed of her duplicity, but even more she dreaded how he\nmight meet her. All feeling of wounded pride had passed now; she was\nonly afraid of the expression of his displeasure. She remembered that\nher child had been perfectly well again for the last two days. She felt\npositively vexed with her for getting better from the very moment her\nletter was sent off. Then she thought of him, that he was here, all of\nhim, with his hands, his eyes. She heard his voice. And forgetting\neverything, she ran joyfully to meet him.\n\n\"Well, how is Annie?\" he said timidly from below, looking up to Anna as\nshe ran down to him.\n\nHe was sitting on a chair, and a footman was pulling off his warm\nover-boot.\n\n\"Oh, she is better.\"\n\n\"And you?\" he said, shaking himself.\n\nShe took his hand in both of hers, and drew it to her waist, never\ntaking her eyes off him.\n\n\"Well, I'm glad,\" he said, coldly scanning her, her hair, her dress,\nwhich he knew she had put on for him. All was charming, but how many\ntimes it had charmed him! And the stern, stony expression that she so\ndreaded settled upon his face.\n\n\"Well, I'm glad. And are you well?\" he said, wiping his damp beard with\nhis handkerchief and kissing her hand.\n\n\"Never mind,\" she thought, \"only let him be here, and so long as he's\nhere he cannot, he dare not, cease to love me.\"\n\nThe evening was spent happily and gaily in the presence of Princess\nVarvara, who complained to him that Anna had been taking morphine in his\nabsence.\n\n\"What am I to do? I couldn't sleep.... My thoughts prevented me. When\nhe's here I never take it--hardly ever.\"\n\nHe told her about the election, and Anna knew how by adroit questions to\nbring him to what gave him most pleasure--his own success. She told him\nof everything that interested him at home; and all that she told him was\nof the most cheerful description.\n\nBut late in the evening, when they were alone, Anna, seeing that she had\nregained complete possession of him, wanted to erase the painful\nimpression of the glance he had given her for her letter. She said:\n\n\"Tell me frankly, you were vexed at getting my letter, and you didn't\nbelieve me?\"\n\nAs soon as she had said it, she felt that however warm his feelings were\nto her, he had not forgiven her for that.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, \"the letter was so strange. First, Annie ill, and then\nyou thought of coming yourself.\"\n\n\"It was all the truth.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't doubt it.\"\n\n\"Yes, you do doubt it. You are vexed, I see.\"\n\n\"Not for one moment. I'm only vexed, that's true, that you seem somehow\nunwilling to admit that there are duties...\"\n\n\"The duty of going to a concert...\"\n\n\"But we won't talk about it,\" he said.\n\n\"Why not talk about it?\" she said.\n\n\"I only meant to say that matters of real importance may turn up. Now,\nfor instance, I shall have to go to Moscow to arrange about the\nhouse.... Oh, Anna, why are you so irritable? Don't you know that I\ncan't live without you?\"\n\n\"If so,\" said Anna, her voice suddenly changing, \"it means that you are\nsick of this life.... Yes, you will come for a day and go away, as men\ndo...\"\n\n\"Anna, that's cruel. I am ready to give up my whole life.\"\n\nBut she did not hear him.\n\n\"If you go to Moscow, I will go too. I will not stay here. Either we\nmust separate or else live together.\"\n\n\"Why, you know, that's my one desire. But for that...\"\n\n\"We must get a divorce. I will write to him. I see I cannot go on like\nthis.... But I will come with you to Moscow.\"\n\n\"You talk as if you were threatening me. But I desire nothing so much as\nnever to be parted from you,\" said Vronsky, smiling.\n\nBut as he said these words there gleamed in his eyes not merely a cold\nlook, but the vindictive look of a man persecuted and made cruel.\n\nShe saw the look and correctly divined its meaning.\n\n\"If so, it's a calamity!\" that glance told her. It was a moment's\nimpression, but she never forgot it.\n\nAnna wrote to her husband asking him about a divorce, and towards the\nend of November, taking leave of Princess Varvara, who wanted to go to\nPetersburg, she went with Vronsky to Moscow. Expecting every day an\nanswer from Alexey Alexandrovitch, and after that the divorce, they now\nestablished themselves together like married people.\n\n\n\n\nPART SEVEN\n\n\n\nChapter 1\n\n\nThe Levins had been three months in Moscow. The date had long passed on\nwhich, according to the most trustworthy calculations of people learned\nin such matters, Kitty should have been confined. But she was still\nabout, and there was nothing to show that her time was any nearer than\ntwo months ago. The doctor, the monthly nurse, and Dolly and her mother,\nand most of all Levin, who could not think of the approaching event\nwithout terror, began to be impatient and uneasy. Kitty was the only\nperson who felt perfectly calm and happy.\n\nShe was distinctly conscious now of the birth of a new feeling of love\nfor the future child, for her to some extent actually existing already,\nand she brooded blissfully over this feeling. He was not by now\naltogether a part of herself, but sometimes lived his own life\nindependently of her. Often this separate being gave her pain, but at\nthe same time she wanted to laugh with a strange new joy.\n\nAll the people she loved were with her, and all were so good to her, so\nattentively caring for her, so entirely pleasant was everything\npresented to her, that if she had not known and felt that it must all\nsoon be over, she could not have wished for a better and pleasanter\nlife. The only thing that spoiled the charm of this manner of life was\nthat her husband was not here as she loved him to be, and as he was in\nthe country.\n\nShe liked his serene, friendly, and hospitable manner in the country. In\nthe town he seemed continually uneasy and on his guard, as though he\nwere afraid someone would be rude to him, and still more to her. At home\nin the country, knowing himself distinctly to be in his right place, he\nwas never in haste to be off elsewhere. He was never unoccupied. Here in\ntown he was in a continual hurry, as though afraid of missing something,\nand yet he had nothing to do. And she felt sorry for him. To others, she\nknew, he did not appear an object of pity. On the contrary, when Kitty\nlooked at him in society, as one sometimes looks at those one loves,\ntrying to see him as if he were a stranger, so as to catch the\nimpression he must make on others, she saw with a panic even of jealous\nfear that he was far indeed from being a pitiable figure, that he was\nvery attractive with his fine breeding, his rather old-fashioned,\nreserved courtesy with women, his powerful figure, and striking, as she\nthought, and expressive face. But she saw him not from without, but from\nwithin; she saw that here he was not himself; that was the only way she\ncould define his condition to herself. Sometimes she inwardly reproached\nhim for his inability to live in the town; sometimes she recognized that\nit was really hard for him to order his life here so that he could be\nsatisfied with it.\n\nWhat had he to do, indeed? He did not care for cards; he did not go to a\nclub. Spending the time with jovial gentlemen of Oblonsky's type--she\nknew now what that meant ... it meant drinking and going somewhere after\ndrinking. She could not think without horror of where men went on such\noccasions. Was he to go into society? But she knew he could only find\nsatisfaction in that if he took pleasure in the society of young women,\nand that she could not wish for. Should he stay at home with her, her\nmother and her sisters? But much as she liked and enjoyed their\nconversations forever on the same subjects--\"Aline-Nadine,\" as the old\nprince called the sisters' talks--she knew it must bore him. What was\nthere left for him to do? To go on writing at his book he had indeed\nattempted, and at first he used to go to the library and make extracts\nand look up references for his book. But, as he told her, the more he\ndid nothing, the less time he had to do anything. And besides, he\ncomplained that he had talked too much about his book here, and that\nconsequently all his ideas about it were muddled and had lost their\ninterest for him.\n\nOne advantage in this town life was that quarrels hardly ever happened\nbetween them here in town. Whether it was that their conditions were\ndifferent, or that they had both become more careful and sensible in\nthat respect, they had no quarrels in Moscow from jealousy, which they\nhad so dreaded when they moved from the country.\n\nOne event, an event of great importance to both from that point of view,\ndid indeed happen--that was Kitty's meeting with Vronsky.\n\nThe old Princess Marya Borissovna, Kitty's godmother, who had always\nbeen very fond of her, had insisted on seeing her. Kitty, though she did\nnot go into society at all on account of her condition, went with her\nfather to see the venerable old lady, and there met Vronsky.\n\nThe only thing Kitty could reproach herself for at this meeting was that\nat the instant when she recognized in his civilian dress the features\nonce so familiar to her, her breath failed her, the blood rushed to her\nheart, and a vivid blush--she felt it--overspread her face. But this\nlasted only a few seconds. Before her father, who purposely began\ntalking in a loud voice to Vronsky, had finished, she was perfectly\nready to look at Vronsky, to speak to him, if necessary, exactly as she\nspoke to Princess Marya Borissovna, and more than that, to do so in such\na way that everything to the faintest intonation and smile would have\nbeen approved by her husband, whose unseen presence she seemed to feel\nabout her at that instant.\n\nShe said a few words to him, even smiled serenely at his joke about the\nelections, which he called \"our parliament.\" (She had to smile to show\nshe saw the joke.) But she turned away immediately to Princess Marya\nBorissovna, and did not once glance at him till he got up to go; then\nshe looked at him, but evidently only because it would be uncivil not to\nlook at a man when he is saying good-bye.\n\nShe was grateful to her father for saying nothing to her about their\nmeeting Vronsky, but she saw by his special warmth to her after the\nvisit during their usual walk that he was pleased with her. She was\npleased with herself. She had not expected she would have had the power,\nwhile keeping somewhere in the bottom of her heart all the memories of\nher old feeling for Vronsky, not only to seem but to be perfectly\nindifferent and composed with him.\n\nLevin flushed a great deal more than she when she told him she had met\nVronsky at Princess Marya Borissovna's. It was very hard for her to tell\nhim this, but still harder to go on speaking of the details of the\nmeeting, as he did not question her, but simply gazed at her with a\nfrown.\n\n\"I am very sorry you weren't there,\" she said. \"Not that you weren't in\nthe room ... I couldn't have been so natural in your presence ... I am\nblushing now much more, much, much more,\" she said, blushing till the\ntears came into her eyes. \"But that you couldn't see through a crack.\"\n\nThe truthful eyes told Levin that she was satisfied with herself, and in\nspite of her blushing he was quickly reassured and began questioning\nher, which was all she wanted. When he had heard everything, even to the\ndetail that for the first second she could not help flushing, but that\nafterwards she was just as direct and as much at her ease as with any\nchance acquaintance, Levin was quite happy again and said he was glad of\nit, and would not now behave as stupidly as he had done at the election,\nbut would try the first time he met Vronsky to be as friendly as\npossible.\n\n\"It's so wretched to feel that there's a man almost an enemy whom it's\npainful to meet,\" said Levin. \"I'm very, very glad.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\n\n\"Go, please, go then and call on the Bols,\" Kitty said to her husband,\nwhen he came in to see her at eleven o'clock before going out. \"I know\nyou are dining at the club; papa put down your name. But what are you\ngoing to do in the morning?\"\n\n\"I am only going to Katavasov,\" answered Levin.\n\n\"Why so early?\"\n\n\"He promised to introduce me to Metrov. I wanted to talk to him about my\nwork. He's a distinguished scientific man from Petersburg,\" said Levin.\n\n\"Yes; wasn't it his article you were praising so? Well, and after that?\"\nsaid Kitty.\n\n\"I shall go to the court, perhaps, about my sister's business.\"\n\n\"And the concert?\" she queried.\n\n\"I shan't go there all alone.\"\n\n\"No? do go; there are going to be some new things.... That interested\nyou so. I should certainly go.\"\n\n\"Well, anyway, I shall come home before dinner,\" he said, looking at his\nwatch.\n\n\"Put on your frock coat, so that you can go straight to call on Countess\nBola.\"\n\n\"But is it absolutely necessary?\"\n\n\"Oh, absolutely! He has been to see us. Come, what is it? You go in, sit\ndown, talk for five minutes of the weather, get up and go away.\"\n\n\"Oh, you wouldn't believe it! I've got so out of the way of all this\nthat it makes me feel positively ashamed. It's such a horrible thing to\ndo! A complete outsider walks in, sits down, stays on with nothing to\ndo, wastes their time and worries himself, and walks away!\"\n\nKitty laughed.\n\n\"Why, I suppose you used to pay calls before you were married, didn't\nyou?\"\n\n\"Yes, I did, but I always felt ashamed, and now I'm so out of the way of\nit that, by Jove! I'd sooner go two days running without my dinner than\npay this call! One's so ashamed! I feel all the while that they're\nannoyed, that they're saying, 'What has he come for?'\"\n\n\"No, they won't. I'll answer for that,\" said Kitty, looking into his\nface with a laugh. She took his hand. \"Well, good-bye.... Do go,\nplease.\"\n\nHe was just going out after kissing his wife's hand, when she stopped\nhim.\n\n\"Kostya, do you know I've only fifty roubles left?\"\n\n\"Oh, all right, I'll go to the bank and get some. How much?\" he said,\nwith the expression of dissatisfaction she knew so well.\n\n\"No, wait a minute.\" She held his hand. \"Let's talk about it, it worries\nme. I seem to spend nothing unnecessary, but money seems to fly away\nsimply. We don't manage well, somehow.\"\n\n\"Oh, it's all right,\" he said with a little cough, looking at her from\nunder his brows.\n\nThat cough she knew well. It was a sign of intense dissatisfaction, not\nwith her, but with himself. He certainly was displeased not at so much\nmoney being spent, but at being reminded of what he, knowing something\nwas unsatisfactory, wanted to forget.\n\n\"I have told Sokolov to sell the wheat, and to borrow an advance on the\nmill. We shall have money enough in any case.\"\n\n\"Yes, but I'm afraid that altogether...\"\n\n\"Oh, it's all right, all right,\" he repeated. \"Well, good-bye, darling.\"\n\n\"No, I'm really sorry sometimes that I listened to mamma. How nice it\nwould have been in the country! As it is, I'm worrying you all, and\nwe're wasting our money.\"\n\n\"Not at all, not at all. Not once since I've been married have I said\nthat things could have been better than they are....\"\n\n\"Truly?\" she said, looking into his eyes.\n\nHe had said it without thinking, simply to console her. But when he\nglanced at her and saw those sweet truthful eyes fastened questioningly\non him, he repeated it with his whole heart. \"I was positively\nforgetting her,\" he thought. And he remembered what was before them, so\nsoon to come.\n\n\"Will it be soon? How do you feel?\" he whispered, taking her two hands.\n\n\"I have so often thought so, that now I don't think about it or know\nanything about it.\"\n\n\"And you're not frightened?\"\n\nShe smiled contemptuously.\n\n\"Not the least little bit,\" she said.\n\n\"Well, if anything happens, I shall be at Katavasov's.\"\n\n\"No, nothing will happen, and don't think about it. I'm going for a walk\non the boulevard with papa. We're going to see Dolly. I shall expect you\nbefore dinner. Oh, yes! Do you know that Dolly's position is becoming\nutterly impossible? She's in debt all round; she hasn't a penny. We were\ntalking yesterday with mamma and Arseny\" (this was her sister's husband\nLvov), \"and we determined to send you with him to talk to Stiva. It's\nreally unbearable. One can't speak to papa about it.... But if you and\nhe...\"\n\n\"Why, what can we do?\" said Levin.\n\n\"You'll be at Arseny's, anyway; talk to him, he will tell what we\ndecided.\"\n\n\"Oh, I agree to everything Arseny thinks beforehand. I'll go and see\nhim. By the way, if I do go to the concert, I'll go with Natalia. Well,\ngood-bye.\"\n\nOn the steps Levin was stopped by his old servant Kouzma, who had been\nwith him before his marriage, and now looked after their household in\ntown.\n\n\"Beauty\" (that was the left shaft-horse brought up from the country)\n\"has been badly shod and is quite lame,\" he said. \"What does your honor\nwish to be done?\"\n\nDuring the first part of their stay in Moscow, Levin had used his own\nhorses brought up from the country. He had tried to arrange this part of\ntheir expenses in the best and cheapest way possible; but it appeared\nthat their own horses came dearer than hired horses, and they still\nhired too.\n\n\"Send for the veterinary, there may be a bruise.\"\n\n\"And for Katerina Alexandrovna?\" asked Kouzma.\n\nLevin was not by now struck as he had been at first by the fact that to\nget from one end of Moscow to the other he had to have two powerful\nhorses put into a heavy carriage, to take the carriage three miles\nthrough the snowy slush and to keep it standing there four hours, paying\nfive roubles every time.\n\nNow it seemed quite natural.\n\n\"Hire a pair for our carriage from the jobmaster,\" said he.\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\nAnd so, simply and easily, thanks to the facilities of town life, Levin\nsettled a question which, in the country, would have called for so much\npersonal trouble and exertion, and going out onto the steps, he called a\nsledge, sat down, and drove to Nikitsky. On the way he thought no more\nof money, but mused on the introduction that awaited him to the\nPetersburg savant, a writer on sociology, and what he would say to him\nabout his book.\n\nOnly during the first days of his stay in Moscow Levin had been struck\nby the expenditure, strange to one living in the country, unproductive\nbut inevitable, that was expected of him on every side. But by now he\nhad grown used to it. That had happened to him in this matter which is\nsaid to happen to drunkards--the first glass sticks in the throat, the\nsecond flies down like a hawk, but after the third they're like tiny\nlittle birds. When Levin had changed his first hundred-rouble note to\npay for liveries for his footmen and hall-porter he could not help\nreflecting that these liveries were of no use to anyone--but they were\nindubitably necessary, to judge by the amazement of the princess and\nKitty when he suggested that they might do without liveries,--that these\nliveries would cost the wages of two laborers for the summer, that is,\nwould pay for about three hundred working days from Easter to Ash\nWednesday, and each a day of hard work from early morning to late\nevening--and that hundred-rouble note did stick in his throat. But the\nnext note, changed to pay for providing a dinner for their relations,\nthat cost twenty-eight roubles, though it did excite in Levin the\nreflection that twenty-eight roubles meant nine measures of oats, which\nmen would with groans and sweat have reaped and bound and thrashed and\nwinnowed and sifted and sown,--this next one he parted with more easily.\nAnd now the notes he changed no longer aroused such reflections, and\nthey flew off like little birds. Whether the labor devoted to obtaining\nthe money corresponded to the pleasure given by what was bought with it,\nwas a consideration he had long ago dismissed. His business calculation\nthat there was a certain price below which he could not sell certain\ngrain was forgotten too. The rye, for the price of which he had so long\nheld out, had been sold for fifty kopecks a measure cheaper than it had\nbeen fetching a month ago. Even the consideration that with such an\nexpenditure he could not go on living for a year without debt, that even\nhad no force. Only one thing was essential: to have money in the bank,\nwithout inquiring where it came from, so as to know that one had the\nwherewithal to buy meat for tomorrow. And this condition had hitherto\nbeen fulfilled; he had always had the money in the bank. But now the\nmoney in the bank had gone, and he could not quite tell where to get the\nnext installment. And this it was which, at the moment when Kitty had\nmentioned money, had disturbed him; but he had no time to think about\nit. He drove off, thinking of Katavasov and the meeting with Metrov that\nwas before him.\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\n\nLevin had on this visit to town seen a great deal of his old friend at\nthe university, Professor Katavasov, whom he had not seen since his\nmarriage. He liked in Katavasov the clearness and simplicity of his\nconception of life. Levin thought that the clearness of Katavasov's\nconception of life was due to the poverty of his nature; Katavasov\nthought that the disconnectedness of Levin's ideas was due to his lack\nof intellectual discipline; but Levin enjoyed Katavasov's clearness, and\nKatavasov enjoyed the abundance of Levin's untrained ideas, and they\nliked to meet and to discuss.\n\nLevin had read Katavasov some parts of his book, and he had liked them.\nOn the previous day Katavasov had met Levin at a public lecture and told\nhim that the celebrated Metrov, whose article Levin had so much liked,\nwas in Moscow, that he had been much interested by what Katavasov had\ntold him about Levin's work, and that he was coming to see him tomorrow\nat eleven, and would be very glad to make Levin's acquaintance.\n\n\"You're positively a reformed character, I'm glad to see,\" said\nKatavasov, meeting Levin in the little drawing room. \"I heard the bell\nand thought: Impossible that it can be he at the exact time!... Well,\nwhat do you say to the Montenegrins now? They're a race of warriors.\"\n\n\"Why, what's happened?\" asked Levin.\n\nKatavasov in a few words told him the last piece of news from the war,\nand going into his study, introduced Levin to a short, thick-set man of\npleasant appearance. This was Metrov. The conversation touched for a\nbrief space on politics and on how recent events were looked at in the\nhigher spheres in Petersburg. Metrov repeated a saying that had reached\nhim through a most trustworthy source, reported as having been uttered\non this subject by the Tsar and one of the ministers. Katavasov had\nheard also on excellent authority that the Tsar had said something quite\ndifferent. Levin tried to imagine circumstances in which both sayings\nmight have been uttered, and the conversation on that topic dropped.\n\n\"Yes, here he's written almost a book on the natural conditions of the\nlaborer in relation to the land,\" said Katavasov; \"I'm not a specialist,\nbut I, as a natural science man, was pleased at his not taking mankind\nas something outside biological laws; but, on the contrary, seeing his\ndependence on his surroundings, and in that dependence seeking the laws\nof his development.\"\n\n\"That's very interesting,\" said Metrov.\n\n\"What I began precisely was to write a book on agriculture; but studying\nthe chief instrument of agriculture, the laborer,\" said Levin,\nreddening, \"I could not help coming to quite unexpected results.\"\n\nAnd Levin began carefully, as it were, feeling his ground, to expound\nhis views. He knew Metrov had written an article against the generally\naccepted theory of political economy, but to what extent he could reckon\non his sympathy with his own new views he did not know and could not\nguess from the clever and serene face of the learned man.\n\n\"But in what do you see the special characteristics of the Russian\nlaborer?\" said Metrov; \"in his biological characteristics, so to speak,\nor in the condition in which he is placed?\"\n\nLevin saw that there was an idea underlying this question with which he\ndid not agree. But he went on explaining his own idea that the Russian\nlaborer has a quite special view of the land, different from that of\nother people; and to support this proposition he made haste to add that\nin his opinion this attitude of the Russian peasant was due to the\nconsciousness of his vocation to people vast unoccupied expanses in the\nEast.\n\n\"One may easily be led into error in basing any conclusion on the\ngeneral vocation of a people,\" said Metrov, interrupting Levin. \"The\ncondition of the laborer will always depend on his relation to the land\nand to capital.\"\n\nAnd without letting Levin finish explaining his idea, Metrov began\nexpounding to him the special point of his own theory.\n\nIn what the point of his theory lay, Levin did not understand, because\nhe did not take the trouble to understand. He saw that Metrov, like\nother people, in spite of his own article, in which he had attacked the\ncurrent theory of political economy, looked at the position of the\nRussian peasant simply from the point of view of capital, wages, and\nrent. He would indeed have been obliged to admit that in the\neastern--much the larger--part of Russia rent was as yet nil, that for\nnine-tenths of the eighty millions of the Russian peasants wages took\nthe form simply of food provided for themselves, and that capital does\nnot so far exist except in the form of the most primitive tools. Yet it\nwas only from that point of view that he considered every laborer,\nthough in many points he differed from the economists and had his own\ntheory of the wage-fund, which he expounded to Levin.\n\nLevin listened reluctantly, and at first made objections. He would have\nliked to interrupt Metrov, to explain his own thought, which in his\nopinion would have rendered further exposition of Metrov's theories\nsuperfluous. But later on, feeling convinced that they looked at the\nmatter so differently, that they could never understand one another, he\ndid not even oppose his statements, but simply listened. Although what\nMetrov was saying was by now utterly devoid of interest for him, he yet\nexperienced a certain satisfaction in listening to him. It flattered his\nvanity that such a learned man should explain his ideas to him so\neagerly, with such intensity and confidence in Levin's understanding of\nthe subject, sometimes with a mere hint referring him to a whole aspect\nof the subject. He put this down to his own credit, unaware that Metrov,\nwho had already discussed his theory over and over again with all his\nintimate friends, talked of it with special eagerness to every new\nperson, and in general was eager to talk to anyone of any subject that\ninterested him, even if still obscure to himself.\n\n\"We are late though,\" said Katavasov, looking at his watch directly\nMetrov had finished his discourse.\n\n\"Yes, there's a meeting of the Society of Amateurs today in\ncommemoration of the jubilee of Svintitch,\" said Katavasov in answer to\nLevin's inquiry. \"Pyotr Ivanovitch and I were going. I've promised to\ndeliver an address on his labors in zoology. Come along with us, it's\nvery interesting.\"\n\n\"Yes, and indeed it's time to start,\" said Metrov. \"Come with us, and\nfrom there, if you care to, come to my place. I should very much like to\nhear your work.\"\n\n\"Oh, no! It's no good yet, it's unfinished. But I shall be very glad to\ngo to the meeting.\"\n\n\"I say, friends, have you heard? He has handed in the separate report,\"\nKatavasov called from the other room, where he was putting on his frock\ncoat.\n\nAnd a conversation sprang up upon the university question, which was a\nvery important event that winter in Moscow. Three old professors in the\ncouncil had not accepted the opinion of the younger professors. The\nyoung ones had registered a separate resolution. This, in the judgment\nof some people, was monstrous, in the judgment of others it was the\nsimplest and most just thing to do, and the professors were split up\ninto two parties.\n\nOne party, to which Katavasov belonged, saw in the opposite party a\nscoundrelly betrayal and treachery, while the opposite party saw in them\nchildishness and lack of respect for the authorities. Levin, though he\ndid not belong to the university, had several times already during his\nstay in Moscow heard and talked about this matter, and had his own\nopinion on the subject. He took part in the conversation that was\ncontinued in the street, as they all three walked to the buildings of\nthe old university.\n\nThe meeting had already begun. Round the cloth-covered table, at which\nKatavasov and Metrov seated themselves, there were some half-dozen\npersons, and one of these was bending close over a manuscript, reading\nsomething aloud. Levin sat down in one of the empty chairs that were\nstanding round the table, and in a whisper asked a student sitting near\nwhat was being read. The student, eyeing Levin with displeasure, said:\n\n\"Biography.\"\n\nThough Levin was not interested in the biography, he could not help\nlistening, and learned some new and interesting facts about the life of\nthe distinguished man of science.\n\nWhen the reader had finished, the chairman thanked him and read some\nverses of the poet Ment sent him on the jubilee, and said a few words by\nway of thanks to the poet. Then Katavasov in his loud, ringing voice\nread his address on the scientific labors of the man whose jubilee was\nbeing kept.\n\nWhen Katavasov had finished, Levin looked at his watch, saw it was past\none, and thought that there would not be time before the concert to read\nMetrov his book, and indeed, he did not now care to do so. During the\nreading he had thought over their conversation. He saw distinctly now\nthat though Metrov's ideas might perhaps have value, his own ideas had a\nvalue too, and their ideas could only be made clear and lead to\nsomething if each worked separately in his chosen path, and that nothing\nwould be gained by putting their ideas together. And having made up his\nmind to refuse Metrov's invitation, Levin went up to him at the end of\nthe meeting. Metrov introduced Levin to the chairman, with whom he was\ntalking of the political news. Metrov told the chairman what he had\nalready told Levin, and Levin made the same remarks on his news that he\nhad already made that morning, but for the sake of variety he expressed\nalso a new opinion which had only just struck him. After that the\nconversation turned again on the university question. As Levin had\nalready heard it all, he made haste to tell Metrov that he was sorry he\ncould not take advantage of his invitation, took leave, and drove to\nLvov's.\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\n\nLvov, the husband of Natalia, Kitty's sister, had spent all his life in\nforeign capitals, where he had been educated, and had been in the\ndiplomatic service.\n\nDuring the previous year he had left the diplomatic service, not owing\nto any \"unpleasantness\" (he never had any \"unpleasantness\" with anyone),\nand was transferred to the department of the court of the palace in\nMoscow, in order to give his two boys the best education possible.\n\nIn spite of the striking contrast in their habits and views and the fact\nthat Lvov was older than Levin, they had seen a great deal of one\nanother that winter, and had taken a great liking to each other.\n\nLvov was at home, and Levin went in to him unannounced.\n\nLvov, in a house coat with a belt and in chamois leather shoes, was\nsitting in an armchair, and with a pince-nez with blue glasses he was\nreading a book that stood on a reading desk, while in his beautiful hand\nhe held a half-burned cigarette daintily away from him.\n\nHis handsome, delicate, and still youthful-looking face, to which his\ncurly, glistening silvery hair gave a still more aristocratic air,\nlighted up with a smile when he saw Levin.\n\n\"Capital! I was meaning to send to you. How's Kitty? Sit here, it's more\ncomfortable.\" He got up and pushed up a rocking chair. \"Have you read\nthe last circular in the _Journal de St. Petersbourg?_ I think it's\nexcellent,\" he said, with a slight French accent.\n\nLevin told him what he had heard from Katavasov was being said in\nPetersburg, and after talking a little about politics, he told him of\nhis interview with Metrov, and the learned society's meeting. To Lvov it\nwas very interesting.\n\n\"That's what I envy you, that you are able to mix in these interesting\nscientific circles,\" he said. And as he talked, he passed as usual into\nFrench, which was easier to him. \"It's true I haven't the time for it.\nMy official work and the children leave me no time; and then I'm not\nashamed to own that my education has been too defective.\"\n\n\"That I don't believe,\" said Levin with a smile, feeling, as he always\ndid, touched at Lvov's low opinion of himself, which was not in the\nleast put on from a desire to seem or to be modest, but was absolutely\nsincere.\n\n\"Oh, yes, indeed! I feel now how badly educated I am. To educate my\nchildren I positively have to look up a great deal, and in fact simply\nto study myself. For it's not enough to have teachers, there must be\nsomeone to look after them, just as on your land you want laborers and\nan overseer. See what I'm reading\"--he pointed to Buslaev's _Grammar_ on\nthe desk--\"it's expected of Misha, and it's so difficult.... Come,\nexplain to me.... Here he says...\"\n\nLevin tried to explain to him that it couldn't be understood, but that\nit had to be taught; but Lvov would not agree with him.\n\n\"Oh, you're laughing at it!\"\n\n\"On the contrary, you can't imagine how, when I look at you, I'm always\nlearning the task that lies before me, that is the education of one's\nchildren.\"\n\n\"Well, there's nothing for you to learn,\" said Lvov.\n\n\"All I know,\" said Levin, \"is that I have never seen better brought-up\nchildren than yours, and I wouldn't wish for children better than\nyours.\"\n\nLvov visibly tried to restrain the expression of his delight, but he was\npositively radiant with smiles.\n\n\"If only they're better than I! That's all I desire. You don't know yet\nall the work,\" he said, \"with boys who've been left like mine to run\nwild abroad.\"\n\n\"You'll catch all that up. They're such clever children. The great thing\nis the education of character. That's what I learn when I look at your\nchildren.\"\n\n\"You talk of the education of character. You can't imagine how difficult\nthat is! You have hardly succeeded in combating one tendency when others\ncrop up, and the struggle begins again. If one had not a support in\nreligion--you remember we talked about that--no father could bring\nchildren up relying on his own strength alone without that help.\"\n\nThis subject, which always interested Levin, was cut short by the\nentrance of the beauty Natalia Alexandrovna, dressed to go out.\n\n\"I didn't know you were here,\" she said, unmistakably feeling no regret,\nbut a positive pleasure, in interrupting this conversation on a topic\nshe had heard so much of that she was by now weary of it. \"Well, how is\nKitty? I am dining with you today. I tell you what, Arseny,\" she turned\nto her husband, \"you take the carriage.\"\n\nAnd the husband and wife began to discuss their arrangements for the\nday. As the husband had to drive to meet someone on official business,\nwhile the wife had to go to the concert and some public meeting of a\ncommittee on the Eastern Question, there was a great deal to consider\nand settle. Levin had to take part in their plans as one of themselves.\nIt was settled that Levin should go with Natalia to the concert and the\nmeeting, and that from there they should send the carriage to the office\nfor Arseny, and he should call for her and take her to Kitty's; or that,\nif he had not finished his work, he should send the carriage back and\nLevin would go with her.\n\n\"He's spoiling me,\" Lvov said to his wife; \"he assures me that our\nchildren are splendid, when I know how much that's bad there is in\nthem.\"\n\n\"Arseny goes to extremes, I always say,\" said his wife. \"If you look for\nperfection, you will never be satisfied. And it's true, as papa\nsays,--that when we were brought up there was one extreme--we were kept\nin the basement, while our parents lived in the best rooms; now it's\njust the other way--the parents are in the wash house, while the\nchildren are in the best rooms. Parents now are not expected to live at\nall, but to exist altogether for their children.\"\n\n\"Well, what if they like it better?\" Lvov said, with his beautiful\nsmile, touching her hand. \"Anyone who didn't know you would think you\nwere a stepmother, not a true mother.\"\n\n\"No, extremes are not good in anything,\" Natalia said serenely, putting\nhis paper knife straight in its proper place on the table.\n\n\"Well, come here, you perfect children,\" Lvov said to the two handsome\nboys who came in, and after bowing to Levin, went up to their father,\nobviously wishing to ask him about something.\n\nLevin would have liked to talk to them, to hear what they would say to\ntheir father, but Natalia began talking to him, and then Lvov's\ncolleague in the service, Mahotin, walked in, wearing his court uniform,\nto go with him to meet someone, and a conversation was kept up without a\nbreak upon Herzegovina, Princess Korzinskaya, the town council, and the\nsudden death of Madame Apraksina.\n\nLevin even forgot the commission intrusted to him. He recollected it as\nhe was going into the hall.\n\n\"Oh, Kitty told me to talk to you about Oblonsky,\" he said, as Lvov was\nstanding on the stairs, seeing his wife and Levin off.\n\n\"Yes, yes, maman wants us, _les beaux-freres,_ to attack him,\" he said,\nblushing. \"But why should I?\"\n\n\"Well, then, I will attack him,\" said Madame Lvova, with a smile,\nstanding in her white sheepskin cape, waiting till they had finished\nspeaking. \"Come, let us go.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\n\nAt the concert in the afternoon two very interesting things were\nperformed. One was a fantasia, _King Lear;_ the other was a quartette\ndedicated to the memory of Bach. Both were new and in the new style, and\nLevin was eager to form an opinion of them. After escorting his\nsister-in-law to her stall, he stood against a column and tried to\nlisten as attentively and conscientiously as possible. He tried not to\nlet his attention be distracted, and not to spoil his impression by\nlooking at the conductor in a white tie, waving his arms, which always\ndisturbed his enjoyment of music so much, or the ladies in bonnets, with\nstrings carefully tied over their ears, and all these people either\nthinking of nothing at all or thinking of all sorts of things except the\nmusic. He tried to avoid meeting musical connoisseurs or talkative\nacquaintances, and stood looking at the floor straight before him,\nlistening.\n\nBut the more he listened to the fantasia of King Lear the further he\nfelt from forming any definite opinion of it. There was, as it were, a\ncontinual beginning, a preparation of the musical expression of some\nfeeling, but it fell to pieces again directly, breaking into new musical\nmotives, or simply nothing but the whims of the composer, exceedingly\ncomplex but disconnected sounds. And these fragmentary musical\nexpressions, though sometimes beautiful, were disagreeable, because they\nwere utterly unexpected and not led up to by anything. Gaiety and grief\nand despair and tenderness and triumph followed one another without any\nconnection, like the emotions of a madman. And those emotions, like a\nmadman's, sprang up quite unexpectedly.\n\nDuring the whole of the performance Levin felt like a deaf man watching\npeople dancing, and was in a state of complete bewilderment when the\nfantasia was over, and felt a great weariness from the fruitless strain\non his attention. Loud applause resounded on all sides. Everyone got up,\nmoved about, and began talking. Anxious to throw some light on his own\nperplexity from the impressions of others, Levin began to walk about,\nlooking for connoisseurs, and was glad to see a well-known musical\namateur in conversation with Pestsov, whom he knew.\n\n\"Marvelous!\" Pestsov was saying in his mellow bass. \"How are you,\nKonstantin Dmitrievitch? Particularly sculpturesque and plastic, so to\nsay, and richly colored is that passage where you feel Cordelia's\napproach, where woman, _das ewig Weibliche,_ enters into conflict with\nfate. Isn't it?\"\n\n\"You mean ... what has Cordelia to do with it?\" Levin asked timidly,\nforgetting that the fantasia was supposed to represent King Lear.\n\n\"Cordelia comes in ... see here!\" said Pestsov, tapping his finger on\nthe satiny surface of the program he held in his hand and passing it to\nLevin.\n\nOnly then Levin recollected the title of the fantasia, and made haste to\nread in the Russian translation the lines from Shakespeare that were\nprinted on the back of the program.\n\n\"You can't follow it without that,\" said Pestsov, addressing Levin, as\nthe person he had been speaking to had gone away, and he had no one to\ntalk to.\n\nIn the _entr'acte_ Levin and Pestsov fell into an argument upon the\nmerits and defects of music of the Wagner school. Levin maintained that\nthe mistake of Wagner and all his followers lay in their trying to take\nmusic into the sphere of another art, just as poetry goes wrong when it\ntries to paint a face as the art of painting ought to do, and as an\ninstance of this mistake he cited the sculptor who carved in marble\ncertain poetic phantasms flitting round the figure of the poet on the\npedestal. \"These phantoms were so far from being phantoms that they were\npositively clinging on the ladder,\" said Levin. The comparison pleased\nhim, but he could not remember whether he had not used the same phrase\nbefore, and to Pestsov, too, and as he said it he felt confused.\n\nPestsov maintained that art is one, and that it can attain its highest\nmanifestations only by conjunction with all kinds of art.\n\nThe second piece that was performed Levin could not hear. Pestsov, who\nwas standing beside him, was talking to him almost all the time,\ncondemning the music for its excessive affected assumption of\nsimplicity, and comparing it with the simplicity of the Pre-Raphaelites\nin painting. As he went out Levin met many more acquaintances, with whom\nhe talked of politics, of music, and of common acquaintances. Among\nothers he met Count Bol, whom he had utterly forgotten to call upon.\n\n\"Well, go at once then,\" Madame Lvova said, when he told her; \"perhaps\nthey'll not be at home, and then you can come to the meeting to fetch\nme. You'll find me still there.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\n\n\"Perhaps they're not at home?\" said Levin, as he went into the hall of\nCountess Bola's house.\n\n\"At home; please walk in,\" said the porter, resolutely removing his\novercoat.\n\n\"How annoying!\" thought Levin with a sigh, taking off one glove and\nstroking his hat. \"What did I come for? What have I to say to them?\"\n\nAs he passed through the first drawing room Levin met in the doorway\nCountess Bola, giving some order to a servant with a care-worn and\nsevere face. On seeing Levin she smiled, and asked him to come into the\nlittle drawing room, where he heard voices. In this room there were\nsitting in armchairs the two daughters of the countess, and a Moscow\ncolonel, whom Levin knew. Levin went up, greeted them, and sat down\nbeside the sofa with his hat on his knees.\n\n\"How is your wife? Have you been at the concert? We couldn't go. Mamma\nhad to be at the funeral service.\"\n\n\"Yes, I heard.... What a sudden death!\" said Levin.\n\nThe countess came in, sat down on the sofa, and she too asked after his\nwife and inquired about the concert.\n\nLevin answered, and repeated an inquiry about Madame Apraksina's sudden\ndeath.\n\n\"But she was always in weak health.\"\n\n\"Were you at the opera yesterday?\"\n\n\"Yes, I was.\"\n\n\"Lucca was very good.\"\n\n\"Yes, very good,\" he said, and as it was utterly of no consequence to\nhim what they thought of him, he began repeating what they had heard a\nhundred times about the characteristics of the singer's talent. Countess\nBola pretended to be listening. Then, when he had said enough and\npaused, the colonel, who had been silent till then, began to talk. The\ncolonel too talked of the opera, and about culture. At last, after\nspeaking of the proposed _folle journee_ at Turin's, the colonel\nlaughed, got up noisily, and went away. Levin too rose, but he saw by\nthe face of the countess that it was not yet time for him to go. He must\nstay two minutes longer. He sat down.\n\nBut as he was thinking all the while how stupid it was, he could not\nfind a subject for conversation, and sat silent.\n\n\"You are not going to the public meeting? They say it will be very\ninteresting,\" began the countess.\n\n\"No, I promised my _belle-soeur_ to fetch her from it,\" said Levin.\n\nA silence followed. The mother once more exchanged glances with a\ndaughter.\n\n\"Well, now I think the time has come,\" thought Levin, and he got up. The\nladies shook hands with him, and begged him to say _mille choses_ to his\nwife for them.\n\nThe porter asked him, as he gave him his coat, \"Where is your honor\nstaying?\" and immediately wrote down his address in a big handsomely\nbound book.\n\n\"Of course I don't care, but still I feel ashamed and awfully stupid,\"\nthought Levin, consoling himself with the reflection that everyone does\nit. He drove to the public meeting, where he was to find his\nsister-in-law, so as to drive home with her.\n\nAt the public meeting of the committee there were a great many people,\nand almost all the highest society. Levin was in time for the report\nwhich, as everyone said, was very interesting. When the reading of the\nreport was over, people moved about, and Levin met Sviazhsky, who\ninvited him very pressingly to come that evening to a meeting of the\nSociety of Agriculture, where a celebrated lecture was to be delivered,\nand Stepan Arkadyevitch, who had only just come from the races, and many\nother acquaintances; and Levin heard and uttered various criticisms on\nthe meeting, on the new fantasia, and on a public trial. But, probably\nfrom the mental fatigue he was beginning to feel, he made a blunder in\nspeaking of the trial, and this blunder he recalled several times with\nvexation. Speaking of the sentence upon a foreigner who had been\ncondemned in Russia, and of how unfair it would be to punish him by\nexile abroad, Levin repeated what he had heard the day before in\nconversation from an acquaintance.\n\n\"I think sending him abroad is much the same as punishing a carp by\nputting it into the water,\" said Levin. Then he recollected that this\nidea, which he had heard from an acquaintance and uttered as his own,\ncame from a fable of Krilov's, and that the acquaintance had picked it\nup from a newspaper article.\n\nAfter driving home with his sister-in-law, and finding Kitty in good\nspirits and quite well, Levin drove to the club.\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\n\nLevin reached the club just at the right time. Members and visitors were\ndriving up as he arrived. Levin had not been at the club for a very long\nwhile--not since he lived in Moscow, when he was leaving the university\nand going into society. He remembered the club, the external details of\nits arrangement, but he had completely forgotten the impression it had\nmade on him in old days. But as soon as, driving into the wide\nsemicircular court and getting out of the sledge, he mounted the steps,\nand the hall porter, adorned with a crossway scarf, noiselessly opened\nthe door to him with a bow; as soon as he saw in the porter's room the\ncloaks and galoshes of members who thought it less trouble to take them\noff downstairs; as soon as he heard the mysterious ringing bell that\npreceded him as he ascended the easy, carpeted staircase, and saw the\nstatue on the landing, and the third porter at the top doors, a familiar\nfigure grown older, in the club livery, opening the door without haste\nor delay, and scanning the visitors as they passed in--Levin felt the\nold impression of the club come back in a rush, an impression of repose,\ncomfort, and propriety.\n\n\"Your hat, please,\" the porter said to Levin, who forgot the club rule\nto leave his hat in the porter's room. \"Long time since you've been. The\nprince put your name down yesterday. Prince Stepan Arkadyevitch is not\nhere yet.\"\n\nThe porter did not only know Levin, but also all his ties and\nrelationships, and so immediately mentioned his intimate friends.\n\nPassing through the outer hall, divided up by screens, and the room\npartitioned on the right, where a man sits at the fruit buffet, Levin\novertook an old man walking slowly in, and entered the dining room full\nof noise and people.\n\nHe walked along the tables, almost all full, and looked at the visitors.\nHe saw people of all sorts, old and young; some he knew a little, some\nintimate friends. There was not a single cross or worried-looking face.\nAll seemed to have left their cares and anxieties in the porter's room\nwith their hats, and were all deliberately getting ready to enjoy the\nmaterial blessings of life. Sviazhsky was here and Shtcherbatsky,\nNevyedovsky and the old prince, and Vronsky and Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"Ah! why are you late?\" the prince said smiling, and giving him his hand\nover his own shoulder. \"How's Kitty?\" he added, smoothing out the napkin\nhe had tucked in at his waistcoat buttons.\n\n\"All right; they are dining at home, all the three of them.\"\n\n\"Ah, 'Aline-Nadine,' to be sure! There's no room with us. Go to that\ntable, and make haste and take a seat,\" said the prince, and turning\naway he carefully took a plate of eel soup.\n\n\"Levin, this way!\" a good-natured voice shouted a little farther on. It\nwas Turovtsin. He was sitting with a young officer, and beside them were\ntwo chairs turned upside down. Levin gladly went up to them. He had\nalways liked the good-hearted rake, Turovtsin--he was associated in his\nmind with memories of his courtship--and at that moment, after the\nstrain of intellectual conversation, the sight of Turovtsin's\ngood-natured face was particularly welcome.\n\n\"For you and Oblonsky. He'll be here directly.\"\n\nThe young man, holding himself very erect, with eyes forever twinkling\nwith enjoyment, was an officer from Petersburg, Gagin. Turovtsin\nintroduced them.\n\n\"Oblonsky's always late.\"\n\n\"Ah, here he is!\"\n\n\"Have you only just come?\" said Oblonsky, coming quickly towards them.\n\"Good day. Had some vodka? Well, come along then.\"\n\nLevin got up and went with him to the big table spread with spirits and\nappetizers of the most various kinds. One would have thought that out of\ntwo dozen delicacies one might find something to one's taste, but Stepan\nArkadyevitch asked for something special, and one of the liveried\nwaiters standing by immediately brought what was required. They drank a\nwine glassful and returned to their table.\n\nAt once, while they were still at the soup, Gagin was served with\nchampagne, and told the waiter to fill four glasses. Levin did not\nrefuse the wine, and asked for a second bottle. He was very hungry, and\nate and drank with great enjoyment, and with still greater enjoyment\ntook part in the lively and simple conversation of his companions.\nGagin, dropping his voice, told the last good story from Petersburg, and\nthe story, though improper and stupid, was so ludicrous that Levin broke\ninto roars of laughter so loud that those near looked round.\n\n\"That's in the same style as, 'that's a thing I can't endure!' You know\nthe story?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"Ah, that's exquisite! Another\nbottle,\" he said to the waiter, and he began to relate his good story.\n\n\"Pyotr Illyitch Vinovsky invites you to drink with him,\" a little old\nwaiter interrupted Stepan Arkadyevitch, bringing two delicate glasses of\nsparkling champagne, and addressing Stepan Arkadyevitch and Levin.\nStepan Arkadyevitch took the glass, and looking towards a bald man with\nred mustaches at the other end of the table, he nodded to him, smiling.\n\n\"Who's that?\" asked Levin.\n\n\"You met him once at my place, don't you remember? A good-natured\nfellow.\"\n\nLevin did the same as Stepan Arkadyevitch and took the glass.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch's anecdote too was very amusing. Levin told his\nstory, and that too was successful. Then they talked of horses, of the\nraces, of what they had been doing that day, and of how smartly\nVronsky's Atlas had won the first prize. Levin did not notice how the\ntime passed at dinner.\n\n\"Ah! and here they are!\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said towards the end of\ndinner, leaning over the back of his chair and holding out his hand to\nVronsky, who came up with a tall officer of the Guards. Vronsky's face\ntoo beamed with the look of good-humored enjoyment that was general in\nthe club. He propped his elbow playfully on Stepan Arkadyevitch's\nshoulder, whispering something to him, and he held out his hand to Levin\nwith the same good-humored smile.\n\n\"Very glad to meet you,\" he said. \"I looked out for you at the election,\nbut I was told you had gone away.\"\n\n\"Yes, I left the same day. We've just been talking of your horse. I\ncongratulate you,\" said Levin. \"It was very rapidly run.\"\n\n\"Yes; you've race horses too, haven't you?\"\n\n\"No, my father had; but I remember and know something about it.\"\n\n\"Where have you dined?\" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"We were at the second table, behind the columns.\"\n\n\"We've been celebrating his success,\" said the tall colonel. \"It's his\nsecond Imperial prize. I wish I might have the luck at cards he has with\nhorses. Well, why waste the precious time? I'm going to the 'infernal\nregions,'\" added the colonel, and he walked away.\n\n\"That's Yashvin,\" Vronsky said in answer to Turovtsin, and he sat down\nin the vacated seat beside them. He drank the glass offered him, and\nordered a bottle of wine. Under the influence of the club atmosphere or\nthe wine he had drunk, Levin chatted away to Vronsky of the best breeds\nof cattle, and was very glad not to feel the slightest hostility to this\nman. He even told him, among other things, that he had heard from his\nwife that she had met him at Princess Marya Borissovna's.\n\n\"Ah, Princess Marya Borissovna, she's exquisite!\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, and he told an anecdote about her which set them all\nlaughing. Vronsky particularly laughed with such simplehearted amusement\nthat Levin felt quite reconciled to him.\n\n\"Well, have we finished?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, getting up with a\nsmile. \"Let us go.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\n\nGetting up from the table, Levin walked with Gagin through the lofty\nroom to the billiard room, feeling his arms swing as he walked with a\npeculiar lightness and ease. As he crossed the big room, he came upon\nhis father-in-law.\n\n\"Well, how do you like our Temple of Indolence?\" said the prince, taking\nhis arm. \"Come along, come along!\"\n\n\"Yes, I wanted to walk about and look at everything. It's interesting.\"\n\n\"Yes, it's interesting for you. But its interest for me is quite\ndifferent. You look at those little old men now,\" he said, pointing to a\nclub member with bent back and projecting lip, shuffling towards them in\nhis soft boots, \"and imagine that they were _shlupiks_ like that from\ntheir birth up.\"\n\n\"How _shlupiks_?\"\n\n\"I see you don't know that name. That's our club designation. You know\nthe game of rolling eggs: when one's rolled a long while it becomes a\n_shlupik_. So it is with us; one goes on coming and coming to the club,\nand ends by becoming a _shlupik_. Ah, you laugh! but we look out, for\nfear of dropping into it ourselves. You know Prince Tchetchensky?\"\ninquired the prince; and Levin saw by his face that he was just going to\nrelate something funny.\n\n\"No, I don't know him.\"\n\n\"You don't say so! Well, Prince Tchetchensky is a well-known figure. No\nmatter, though. He's always playing billiards here. Only three years ago\nhe was not a _shlupik_ and kept up his spirits and even used to call\nother people _shlupiks_. But one day he turns up, and our porter ... you\nknow Vassily? Why, that fat one; he's famous for his _bon mots_. And so\nPrince Tchetchensky asks him, 'Come, Vassily, who's here? Any _shlupiks_\nhere yet?' And he says, 'You're the third.' Yes, my dear boy, that he\ndid!\"\n\nTalking and greeting the friends they met, Levin and the prince walked\nthrough all the rooms: the great room where tables had already been set,\nand the usual partners were playing for small stakes; the divan room,\nwhere they were playing chess, and Sergey Ivanovitch was sitting talking\nto somebody; the billiard room, where, about a sofa in a recess, there\nwas a lively party drinking champagne--Gagin was one of them. They\npeeped into the \"infernal regions,\" where a good many men were crowding\nround one table, at which Yashvin was sitting. Trying not to make a\nnoise, they walked into the dark reading room, where under the shaded\nlamps there sat a young man with a wrathful countenance, turning over\none journal after another, and a bald general buried in a book. They\nwent, too, into what the prince called the intellectual room, where\nthree gentlemen were engaged in a heated discussion of the latest\npolitical news.\n\n\"Prince, please come, we're ready,\" said one of his card party, who had\ncome to look for him, and the prince went off. Levin sat down and\nlistened, but recalling all the conversation of the morning he felt all\nof a sudden fearfully bored. He got up hurriedly, and went to look for\nOblonsky and Turovtsin, with whom it had been so pleasant.\n\nTurovtsin was one of the circle drinking in the billiard room, and\nStepan Arkadyevitch was talking with Vronsky near the door at the\nfarther corner of the room.\n\n\"It's not that she's dull; but this undefined, this unsettled position,\"\nLevin caught, and he was hurrying away, but Stepan Arkadyevitch called\nto him.\n\n\"Levin,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, and Levin noticed that his eyes were\nnot full of tears exactly, but moist, which always happened when he had\nbeen drinking, or when he was touched. Just now it was due to both\ncauses. \"Levin, don't go,\" he said, and he warmly squeezed his arm above\nthe elbow, obviously not at all wishing to let him go.\n\n\"This is a true friend of mine--almost my greatest friend,\" he said to\nVronsky. \"You have become even closer and dearer to me. And I want you,\nand I know you ought, to be friends, and great friends, because you're\nboth splendid fellows.\"\n\n\"Well, there's nothing for us now but to kiss and be friends,\" Vronsky\nsaid, with good-natured playfulness, holding out his hand.\n\nLevin quickly took the offered hand, and pressed it warmly.\n\n\"I'm very, very glad,\" said Levin.\n\n\"Waiter, a bottle of champagne,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"And I'm very glad,\" said Vronsky.\n\nBut in spite of Stepan Arkadyevitch's desire, and their own desire, they\nhad nothing to talk about, and both felt it.\n\n\"Do you know, he has never met Anna?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said to\nVronsky. \"And I want above everything to take him to see her. Let us go,\nLevin!\"\n\n\"Really?\" said Vronsky. \"She will be very glad to see you. I should be\ngoing home at once,\" he added, \"but I'm worried about Yashvin, and I\nwant to stay on till he finishes.\"\n\n\"Why, is he losing?\"\n\n\"He keeps losing, and I'm the only friend that can restrain him.\"\n\n\"Well, what do you say to pyramids? Levin, will you play? Capital!\" said\nStepan Arkadyevitch. \"Get the table ready,\" he said to the marker.\n\n\"It has been ready a long while,\" answered the marker, who had already\nset the balls in a triangle, and was knocking the red one about for his\nown diversion.\n\n\"Well, let us begin.\"\n\nAfter the game Vronsky and Levin sat down at Gagin's table, and at\nStepan Arkadyevitch's suggestion Levin took a hand in the game.\n\nVronsky sat down at the table, surrounded by friends, who were\nincessantly coming up to him. Every now and then he went to the\n\"infernal\" to keep an eye on Yashvin. Levin was enjoying a delightful\nsense of repose after the mental fatigue of the morning. He was glad\nthat all hostility was at an end with Vronsky, and the sense of peace,\ndecorum, and comfort never left him.\n\nWhen the game was over, Stepan Arkadyevitch took Levin's arm.\n\n\"Well, let us go to Anna's, then. At once? Eh? She is at home. I\npromised her long ago to bring you. Where were you meaning to spend the\nevening?\"\n\n\"Oh, nowhere specially. I promised Sviazhsky to go to the Society of\nAgriculture. By all means, let us go,\" said Levin.\n\n\"Very good; come along. Find out if my carriage is here,\" Stepan\nArkadyevitch said to the waiter.\n\nLevin went up to the table, paid the forty roubles he had lost; paid his\nbill, the amount of which was in some mysterious way ascertained by the\nlittle old waiter who stood at the counter, and swinging his arms he\nwalked through all the rooms to the way out.\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\n\n\"Oblonsky's carriage!\" the porter shouted in an angry bass. The carriage\ndrove up and both got in. It was only for the first few moments, while\nthe carriage was driving out of the clubhouse gates, that Levin was\nstill under the influence of the club atmosphere of repose, comfort, and\nunimpeachable good form. But as soon as the carriage drove out into the\nstreet, and he felt it jolting over the uneven road, heard the angry\nshout of a sledge driver coming towards them, saw in the uncertain light\nthe red blind of a tavern and the shops, this impression was dissipated,\nand he began to think over his actions, and to wonder whether he was\ndoing right in going to see Anna. What would Kitty say? But Stepan\nArkadyevitch gave him no time for reflection, and, as though divining\nhis doubts, he scattered them.\n\n\"How glad I am,\" he said, \"that you should know her! You know Dolly has\nlong wished for it. And Lvov's been to see her, and often goes. Though\nshe is my sister,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch pursued, \"I don't hesitate to say\nthat she's a remarkable woman. But you will see. Her position is very\npainful, especially now.\"\n\n\"Why especially now?\"\n\n\"We are carrying on negotiations with her husband about a divorce. And\nhe's agreed; but there are difficulties in regard to the son, and the\nbusiness, which ought to have been arranged long ago, has been dragging\non for three months past. As soon as the divorce is over, she will marry\nVronsky. How stupid these old ceremonies are, that no one believes in,\nand which only prevent people being comfortable!\" Stepan Arkadyevitch\nput in. \"Well, then their position will be as regular as mine, as\nyours.\"\n\n\"What is the difficulty?\" said Levin.\n\n\"Oh, it's a long and tedious story! The whole business is in such an\nanomalous position with us. But the point is she has been for three\nmonths in Moscow, where everyone knows her, waiting for the divorce; she\ngoes out nowhere, sees no woman except Dolly, because, do you\nunderstand, she doesn't care to have people come as a favor. That fool\nPrincess Varvara, even she has left her, considering this a breach of\npropriety. Well, you see, in such a position any other woman would not\nhave found resources in herself. But you'll see how she has arranged her\nlife--how calm, how dignified she is. To the left, in the crescent\nopposite the church!\" shouted Stepan Arkadyevitch, leaning out of the\nwindow. \"Phew! how hot it is!\" he said, in spite of twelve degrees of\nfrost, flinging his open overcoat still wider open.\n\n\"But she has a daughter: no doubt she's busy looking after her?\" said\nLevin.\n\n\"I believe you picture every woman simply as a female, _une couveuse,_\"\nsaid Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"If she's occupied, it must be with her\nchildren. No, she brings her up capitally, I believe, but one doesn't\nhear about her. She's busy, in the first place, with what she writes. I\nsee you're smiling ironically, but you're wrong. She's writing a\nchildren's book, and doesn't talk about it to anyone, but she read it to\nme and I gave the manuscript to Vorkuev ... you know the publisher ...\nand he's an author himself too, I fancy. He understands those things,\nand he says it's a remarkable piece of work. But are you fancying she's\nan authoress?--not a bit of it. She's a woman with a heart, before\neverything, but you'll see. Now she has a little English girl with her,\nand a whole family she's looking after.\"\n\n\"Oh, something in a philanthropic way?\"\n\n\"Why, you will look at everything in the worst light. It's not from\nphilanthropy, it's from the heart. They--that is, Vronsky--had a\ntrainer, an Englishman, first-rate in his own line, but a drunkard. He's\ncompletely given up to drink--delirium tremens--and the family were cast\non the world. She saw them, helped them, got more and more interested in\nthem, and now the whole family is on her hands. But not by way of\npatronage, you know, helping with money; she's herself preparing the\nboys in Russian for the high school, and she's taken the little girl to\nlive with her. But you'll see her for yourself.\"\n\nThe carriage drove into the courtyard, and Stepan Arkadyevitch rang\nloudly at the entrance where sledges were standing.\n\nAnd without asking the servant who opened the door whether the lady were\nat home, Stepan Arkadyevitch walked into the hall. Levin followed him,\nmore and more doubtful whether he was doing right or wrong.\n\nLooking at himself in the glass, Levin noticed that he was red in the\nface, but he felt certain he was not drunk, and he followed Stepan\nArkadyevitch up the carpeted stairs. At the top Stepan Arkadyevitch\ninquired of the footman, who bowed to him as to an intimate friend, who\nwas with Anna Arkadyevna, and received the answer that it was M.\nVorkuev.\n\n\"Where are they?\"\n\n\"In the study.\"\n\nPassing through the dining room, a room not very large, with dark,\npaneled walls, Stepan Arkadyevitch and Levin walked over the soft carpet\nto the half-dark study, lighted up by a single lamp with a big dark\nshade. Another lamp with a reflector was hanging on the wall, lighting\nup a big full-length portrait of a woman, which Levin could not help\nlooking at. It was the portrait of Anna, painted in Italy by Mihailov.\nWhile Stepan Arkadyevitch went behind the _treillage_, and the man's\nvoice which had been speaking paused, Levin gazed at the portrait, which\nstood out from the frame in the brilliant light thrown on it, and he\ncould not tear himself away from it. He positively forgot where he was,\nand not even hearing what was said, he could not take his eyes off the\nmarvelous portrait. It was not a picture, but a living, charming woman,\nwith black curling hair, with bare arms and shoulders, with a pensive\nsmile on the lips, covered with soft down; triumphantly and softly she\nlooked at him with eyes that baffled him. She was not living only\nbecause she was more beautiful than a living woman can be.\n\n\"I am delighted!\" He heard suddenly near him a voice, unmistakably\naddressing him, the voice of the very woman he had been admiring in the\nportrait. Anna had come from behind the treillage to meet him, and Levin\nsaw in the dim light of the study the very woman of the portrait, in a\ndark blue shot gown, not in the same position nor with the same\nexpression, but with the same perfection of beauty which the artist had\ncaught in the portrait. She was less dazzling in reality, but, on the\nother hand, there was something fresh and seductive in the living woman\nwhich was not in the portrait.\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\n\nShe had risen to meet him, not concealing her pleasure at seeing him;\nand in the quiet ease with which she held out her little vigorous hand,\nintroduced him to Vorkuev and indicated a red-haired, pretty little girl\nwho was sitting at work, calling her her pupil, Levin recognized and\nliked the manners of a woman of the great world, always self-possessed\nand natural.\n\n\"I am delighted, delighted,\" she repeated, and on her lips these simple\nwords took for Levin's ears a special significance. \"I have known you\nand liked you for a long while, both from your friendship with Stiva and\nfor your wife's sake.... I knew her for a very short time, but she left\non me the impression of an exquisite flower, simply a flower. And to\nthink she will soon be a mother!\"\n\nShe spoke easily and without haste, looking now and then from Levin to\nher brother, and Levin felt that the impression he was making was good,\nand he felt immediately at home, simple and happy with her, as though he\nhad known her from childhood.\n\n\"Ivan Petrovitch and I settled in Alexey's study,\" she said in answer to\nStepan Arkadyevitch's question whether he might smoke, \"just so as to be\nable to smoke\"--and glancing at Levin, instead of asking whether he\nwould smoke, she pulled closer a tortoise-shell cigar-case and took a\ncigarette.\n\n\"How are you feeling today?\" her brother asked her.\n\n\"Oh, nothing. Nerves, as usual.\"\n\n\"Yes, isn't it extraordinarily fine?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, noticing\nthat Levin was scrutinizing the picture.\n\n\"I have never seen a better portrait.\"\n\n\"And extraordinarily like, isn't it?\" said Vorkuev.\n\nLevin looked from the portrait to the original. A peculiar brilliance\nlighted up Anna's face when she felt his eyes on her. Levin flushed, and\nto cover his confusion would have asked whether she had seen Darya\nAlexandrovna lately; but at that moment Anna spoke. \"We were just\ntalking, Ivan Petrovitch and I, of Vashtchenkov's last pictures. Have\nyou seen them?\"\n\n\"Yes, I have seen them,\" answered Levin.\n\n\"But, I beg your pardon, I interrupted you ... you were saying?...\"\n\nLevin asked if she had seen Dolly lately.\n\n\"She was here yesterday. She was very indignant with the high school\npeople on Grisha's account. The Latin teacher, it seems, had been unfair\nto him.\"\n\n\"Yes, I have seen his pictures. I didn't care for them very much,\" Levin\nwent back to the subject she had started.\n\nLevin talked now not at all with that purely businesslike attitude to\nthe subject with which he had been talking all the morning. Every word\nin his conversation with her had a special significance. And talking to\nher was pleasant; still pleasanter it was to listen to her.\n\nAnna talked not merely naturally and cleverly, but cleverly and\ncarelessly, attaching no value to her own ideas and giving great weight\nto the ideas of the person she was talking to.\n\nThe conversation turned on the new movement in art, on the new\nillustrations of the Bible by a French artist. Vorkuev attacked the\nartist for a realism carried to the point of coarseness.\n\nLevin said that the French had carried conventionality further than\nanyone, and that consequently they see a great merit in the return to\nrealism. In the fact of not lying they see poetry.\n\nNever had anything clever said by Levin given him so much pleasure as\nthis remark. Anna's face lighted up at once, as at once she appreciated\nthe thought. She laughed.\n\n\"I laugh,\" she said, \"as one laughs when one sees a very true portrait.\nWhat you said so perfectly hits off French art now, painting and\nliterature too, indeed--Zola, Daudet. But perhaps it is always so, that\nmen form their conceptions from fictitious, conventional types, and\nthen--all the _combinaisons_ made--they are tired of the fictitious\nfigures and begin to invent more natural, true figures.\"\n\n\"That's perfectly true,\" said Vorknev.\n\n\"So you've been at the club?\" she said to her brother.\n\n\"Yes, yes, this is a woman!\" Levin thought, forgetting himself and\nstaring persistently at her lovely, mobile face, which at that moment\nwas all at once completely transformed. Levin did not hear what she was\ntalking of as she leaned over to her brother, but he was struck by the\nchange of her expression. Her face--so handsome a moment before in its\nrepose--suddenly wore a look of strange curiosity, anger, and pride. But\nthis lasted only an instant. She dropped her eyelids, as though\nrecollecting something.\n\n\"Oh, well, but that's of no interest to anyone,\" she said, and she\nturned to the English girl.\n\n\"Please order the tea in the drawing room,\" she said in English.\n\nThe girl got up and went out.\n\n\"Well, how did she get through her examination?\" asked Stepan\nArkadyevitch.\n\n\"Splendidly! She's a very gifted child and a sweet character.\"\n\n\"It will end in your loving her more than your own.\"\n\n\"There a man speaks. In love there's no more nor less. I love my\ndaughter with one love, and her with another.\"\n\n\"I was just telling Anna Arkadyevna,\" said Vorkuev, \"that if she were to\nput a hundredth part of the energy she devotes to this English girl to\nthe public question of the education of Russian children, she would be\ndoing a great and useful work.\"\n\n\"Yes, but I can't help it; I couldn't do it. Count Alexey Kirillovitch\nurged me very much\" (as she uttered the words _Count Alexey\nKirillovitch_ she glanced with appealing timidity at Levin, and he\nunconsciously responded with a respectful and reassuring look); \"he\nurged me to take up the school in the village. I visited it several\ntimes. The children were very nice, but I could not feel drawn to the\nwork. You speak of energy. Energy rests upon love; and come as it will,\nthere's no forcing it. I took to this child--I could not myself say\nwhy.\"\n\nAnd she glanced again at Levin. And her smile and her glance--all told\nhim that it was to him only she was addressing her words, valuing his\ngood opinion, and at the same time sure beforehand that they understood\neach other.\n\n\"I quite understand that,\" Levin answered. \"It's impossible to give\none's heart to a school or such institutions in general, and I believe\nthat's just why philanthropic institutions always give such poor\nresults.\"\n\nShe was silent for a while, then she smiled.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" she agreed; \"I never could. _Je n'ai pas le coeur assez_\nlarge to love a whole asylum of horrid little girls. _Cela ne m'a jamais\nreussi._ There are so many women who have made themselves _une position\nsociale_ in that way. And now more than ever,\" she said with a mournful,\nconfiding expression, ostensibly addressing her brother, but\nunmistakably intending her words only for Levin, \"now when I have such\nneed of some occupation, I cannot.\" And suddenly frowning (Levin saw\nthat she was frowning at herself for talking about herself) she changed\nthe subject. \"I know about you,\" she said to Levin; \"that you're not a\npublic-spirited citizen, and I have defended you to the best of my\nability.\"\n\n\"How have you defended me?\"\n\n\"Oh, according to the attacks made on you. But won't you have some tea?\"\nShe rose and took up a book bound in morocco.\n\n\"Give it to me, Anna Arkadyevna,\" said Vorkuev, indicating the book.\n\"It's well worth taking up.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, it's all so sketchy.\"\n\n\"I told him about it,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said to his sister, nodding\nat Levin.\n\n\"You shouldn't have. My writing is something after the fashion of those\nlittle baskets and carving which Liza Mertsalova used to sell me from\nthe prisons. She had the direction of the prison department in that\nsociety,\" she turned to Levin; \"and they were miracles of patience, the\nwork of those poor wretches.\"\n\nAnd Levin saw a new trait in this woman, who attracted him so\nextraordinarily. Besides wit, grace, and beauty, she had truth. She had\nno wish to hide from him all the bitterness of her position. As she said\nthat she sighed, and her face suddenly taking a hard expression, looked\nas it were turned to stone. With that expression on her face she was\nmore beautiful than ever; but the expression was new; it was utterly\nunlike that expression, radiant with happiness and creating happiness,\nwhich had been caught by the painter in her portrait. Levin looked more\nthan once at the portrait and at her figure, as taking her brother's arm\nshe walked with him to the high doors and he felt for her a tenderness\nand pity at which he wondered himself.\n\nShe asked Levin and Vorkuev to go into the drawing room, while she\nstayed behind to say a few words to her brother. \"About her divorce,\nabout Vronsky, and what he's doing at the club, about me?\" wondered\nLevin. And he was so keenly interested by the question of what she was\nsaying to Stepan Arkadyevitch, that he scarcely heard what Vorkuev was\ntelling him of the qualities of the story for children Anna Arkadyevna\nhad written.\n\nAt tea the same pleasant sort of talk, full of interesting matter,\ncontinued. There was not a single instant when a subject for\nconversation was to seek; on the contrary, it was felt that one had\nhardly time to say what one had to say, and eagerly held back to hear\nwhat the others were saying. And all that was said, not only by her, but\nby Vorkuev and Stepan Arkadyevitch--all, so it seemed to Levin, gained\npeculiar significance from her appreciation and her criticism. While he\nfollowed this interesting conversation, Levin was all the time admiring\nher--her beauty, her intelligence, her culture, and at the same time her\ndirectness and genuine depth of feeling. He listened and talked, and all\nthe while he was thinking of her inner life, trying to divine her\nfeelings. And though he had judged her so severely hitherto, now by some\nstrange chain of reasoning he was justifying her and was also sorry for\nher, and afraid that Vronsky did not fully understand her. At eleven\no'clock, when Stepan Arkadyevitch got up to go (Vorkuev had left\nearlier), it seemed to Levin that he had only just come. Regretfully\nLevin too rose.\n\n\"Good-bye,\" she said, holding his hand and glancing into his face with a\nwinning look. \"I am very glad _que la glace est rompue._\"\n\nShe dropped his hand, and half closed her eyes.\n\n\"Tell your wife that I love her as before, and that if she cannot pardon\nme my position, then my wish for her is that she may never pardon it. To\npardon it, one must go through what I have gone through, and may God\nspare her that.\"\n\n\"Certainly, yes, I will tell her...\" Levin said, blushing.\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\n\n\"What a marvelous, sweet and unhappy woman!\" he was thinking, as he\nstepped out into the frosty air with Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"Well, didn't I tell you?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, seeing that Levin\nhad been completely won over.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Levin dreamily, \"an extraordinary woman! It's not her\ncleverness, but she has such wonderful depth of feeling. I'm awfully\nsorry for her!\"\n\n\"Now, please God, everything will soon be settled. Well, well, don't be\nhard on people in future,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, opening the\ncarriage door. \"Good-bye; we don't go the same way.\"\n\nStill thinking of Anna, of everything, even the simplest phrase in their\nconversation with her, and recalling the minutest changes in her\nexpression, entering more and more into her position, and feeling\nsympathy for her, Levin reached home.\n\nAt home Kouzma told Levin that Katerina Alexandrovna was quite well, and\nthat her sisters had not long been gone, and he handed him two letters.\nLevin read them at once in the hall, that he might not over look them\nlater. One was from Sokolov, his bailiff. Sokolov wrote that the corn\ncould not be sold, that it was fetching only five and a half roubles,\nand that more than that could not be got for it. The other letter was\nfrom his sister. She scolded him for her business being still unsettled.\n\n\"Well, we must sell it at five and a half if we can't get more,\" Levin\ndecided the first question, which had always before seemed such a\nweighty one, with extraordinary facility on the spot. \"It's\nextraordinary how all one's time is taken up here,\" he thought,\nconsidering the second letter. He felt himself to blame for not having\ngot done what his sister had asked him to do for her. \"Today, again,\nI've not been to the court, but today I've certainly not had time.\" And\nresolving that he would not fail to do it next day, he went up to his\nwife. As he went in, Levin rapidly ran through mentally the day he had\nspent. All the events of the day were conversations, conversations he\nhad heard and taken part in. All the conversations were upon subjects\nwhich, if he had been alone at home, he would never have taken up, but\nhere they were very interesting. And all these conversations were right\nenough, only in two places there was something not quite right. One was\nwhat he had said about the carp, the other was something not \"quite the\nthing\" in the tender sympathy he was feeling for Anna.\n\nLevin found his wife low-spirited and dull. The dinner of the three\nsisters had gone off very well, but then they had waited and waited for\nhim, all of them had felt dull, the sisters had departed, and she had\nbeen left alone.\n\n\"Well, and what have you been doing?\" she asked him, looking straight\ninto his eyes, which shone with rather a suspicious brightness. But that\nshe might not prevent his telling her everything, she concealed her\nclose scrutiny of him, and with an approving smile listened to his\naccount of how he had spent the evening.\n\n\"Well, I'm very glad I met Vronsky. I felt quite at ease and natural\nwith him. You understand, I shall try not to see him, but I'm glad that\nthis awkwardness is all over,\" he said, and remembering that by way of\ntrying not to see him, he had immediately gone to call on Anna, he\nblushed. \"We talk about the peasants drinking; I don't know which drinks\nmost, the peasantry or our own class; the peasants do on holidays,\nbut...\"\n\nBut Kitty took not the slightest interest in discussing the drinking\nhabits of the peasants. She saw that he blushed, and she wanted to know\nwhy.\n\n\"Well, and then where did you go?\"\n\n\"Stiva urged me awfully to go and see Anna Arkadyevna.\"\n\nAnd as he said this, Levin blushed even more, and his doubts as to\nwhether he had done right in going to see Anna were settled once for\nall. He knew now that he ought not to have done so.\n\nKitty's eyes opened in a curious way and gleamed at Anna's name, but\ncontrolling herself with an effort, she concealed her emotion and\ndeceived him.\n\n\"Oh!\" was all she said.\n\n\"I'm sure you won't be angry at my going. Stiva begged me to, and Dolly\nwished it,\" Levin went on.\n\n\"Oh, no!\" she said, but he saw in her eyes a constraint that boded him\nno good.\n\n\"She is a very sweet, very, very unhappy, good woman,\" he said, telling\nher about Anna, her occupations, and what she had told him to say to\nher.\n\n\"Yes, of course, she is very much to be pitied,\" said Kitty, when he had\nfinished. \"Whom was your letter from?\"\n\nHe told her, and believing in her calm tone, he went to change his coat.\n\nComing back, he found Kitty in the same easy chair. When he went up to\nher, she glanced at him and broke into sobs.\n\n\"What? what is it?\" he asked, knowing beforehand what.\n\n\"You're in love with that hateful woman; she has bewitched you! I saw it\nin your eyes. Yes, yes! What can it all lead to? You were drinking at\nthe club, drinking and gambling, and then you went ... to her of all\npeople! No, we must go away.... I shall go away tomorrow.\"\n\nIt was a long while before Levin could soothe his wife. At last he\nsucceeded in calming her, only by confessing that a feeling of pity, in\nconjunction with the wine he had drunk, had been too much for him, that\nhe had succumbed to Anna's artful influence, and that he would avoid\nher. One thing he did with more sincerity confess to was that living so\nlong in Moscow, a life of nothing but conversation, eating and drinking,\nhe was degenerating. They talked till three o'clock in the morning. Only\nat three o'clock were they sufficiently reconciled to be able to go to\nsleep.\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\n\nAfter taking leave of her guests, Anna did not sit down, but began\nwalking up and down the room. She had unconsciously the whole evening\ndone her utmost to arouse in Levin a feeling of love--as of late she had\nfallen into doing with all young men--and she knew she had attained her\naim, as far as was possible in one evening, with a married and\nconscientious man. She liked him indeed extremely, and, in spite of the\nstriking difference, from the masculine point of view, between Vronsky\nand Levin, as a woman she saw something they had in common, which had\nmade Kitty able to love both. Yet as soon as he was out of the room, she\nceased to think of him.\n\nOne thought, and one only, pursued her in different forms, and refused\nto be shaken off. \"If I have so much effect on others, on this man, who\nloves his home and his wife, why is it _he_ is so cold to me?... not\ncold exactly, he loves me, I know that! But something new is drawing us\napart now. Why wasn't he here all the evening? He told Stiva to say he\ncould not leave Yashvin, and must watch over his play. Is Yashvin a\nchild? But supposing it's true. He never tells a lie. But there's\nsomething else in it if it's true. He is glad of an opportunity of\nshowing me that he has other duties; I know that, I submit to that. But\nwhy prove that to me? He wants to show me that his love for me is not to\ninterfere with his freedom. But I need no proofs, I need love. He ought\nto understand all the bitterness of this life for me here in Moscow. Is\nthis life? I am not living, but waiting for an event, which is\ncontinually put off and put off. No answer again! And Stiva says he\ncannot go to Alexey Alexandrovitch. And I can't write again. I can do\nnothing, can begin nothing, can alter nothing; I hold myself in, I wait,\ninventing amusements for myself--the English family, writing,\nreading--but it's all nothing but a sham, it's all the same as morphine.\nHe ought to feel for me,\" she said, feeling tears of self-pity coming\ninto her eyes.\n\nShe heard Vronsky's abrupt ring and hurriedly dried her tears--not only\ndried her tears, but sat down by a lamp and opened a book, affecting\ncomposure. She wanted to show him that she was displeased that he had\nnot come home as he had promised--displeased only, and not on any\naccount to let him see her distress, and least of all, her self-pity.\nShe might pity herself, but he must not pity her. She did not want\nstrife, she blamed him for wanting to quarrel, but unconsciously put\nherself into an attitude of antagonism.\n\n\"Well, you've not been dull?\" he said, eagerly and good-humoredly, going\nup to her. \"What a terrible passion it is--gambling!\"\n\n\"No, I've not been dull; I've learned long ago not to be dull. Stiva has\nbeen here and Levin.\"\n\n\"Yes, they meant to come and see you. Well, how did you like Levin?\" he\nsaid, sitting down beside her.\n\n\"Very much. They have not long been gone. What was Yashvin doing?\"\n\n\"He was winning--seventeen thousand. I got him away. He had really\nstarted home, but he went back again, and now he's losing.\"\n\n\"Then what did you stay for?\" she asked, suddenly lifting her eyes to\nhim. The expression of her face was cold and ungracious. \"You told Stiva\nyou were staying on to get Yashvin away. And you have left him there.\"\n\nThe same expression of cold readiness for the conflict appeared on his\nface too.\n\n\"In the first place, I did not ask him to give you any message; and\nsecondly, I never tell lies. But what's the chief point, I wanted to\nstay, and I stayed,\" he said, frowning. \"Anna, what is it for, why will\nyou?\" he said after a moment's silence, bending over towards her, and he\nopened his hand, hoping she would lay hers in it.\n\nShe was glad of this appeal for tenderness. But some strange force of\nevil would not let her give herself up to her feelings, as though the\nrules of warfare would not permit her to surrender.\n\n\"Of course you wanted to stay, and you stayed. You do everything you\nwant to. But what do you tell me that for? With what object?\" she said,\ngetting more and more excited. \"Does anyone contest your rights? But you\nwant to be right, and you're welcome to be right.\"\n\nHis hand closed, he turned away, and his face wore a still more\nobstinate expression.\n\n\"For you it's a matter of obstinacy,\" she said, watching him intently\nand suddenly finding the right word for that expression that irritated\nher, \"simply obstinacy. For you it's a question of whether you keep the\nupper hand of me, while for me....\" Again she felt sorry for herself,\nand she almost burst into tears. \"If you knew what it is for me! When I\nfeel as I do now that you are hostile, yes, hostile to me, if you knew\nwhat this means for me! If you knew how I feel on the brink of calamity\nat this instant, how afraid I am of myself!\" And she turned away, hiding\nher sobs.\n\n\"But what are you talking about?\" he said, horrified at her expression\nof despair, and again bending over her, he took her hand and kissed it.\n\"What is it for? Do I seek amusements outside our home? Don't I avoid\nthe society of women?\"\n\n\"Well, yes! If that were all!\" she said.\n\n\"Come, tell me what I ought to do to give you peace of mind? I am ready\nto do anything to make you happy,\" he said, touched by her expression of\ndespair; \"what wouldn't I do to save you from distress of any sort, as\nnow, Anna!\" he said.\n\n\"It's nothing, nothing!\" she said. \"I don't know myself whether it's the\nsolitary life, my nerves.... Come, don't let us talk of it. What about\nthe race? You haven't told me!\" she inquired, trying to conceal her\ntriumph at the victory, which had anyway been on her side.\n\nHe asked for supper, and began telling her about the races; but in his\ntone, in his eyes, which became more and more cold, she saw that he did\nnot forgive her for her victory, that the feeling of obstinacy with\nwhich she had been struggling had asserted itself again in him. He was\ncolder to her than before, as though he were regretting his surrender.\nAnd she, remembering the words that had given her the victory, \"how I\nfeel on the brink of calamity, how afraid I am of myself,\" saw that this\nweapon was a dangerous one, and that it could not be used a second time.\nAnd she felt that beside the love that bound them together there had\ngrown up between them some evil spirit of strife, which she could not\nexorcise from his, and still less from her own heart.\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\n\nThere are no conditions to which a man cannot become used, especially if\nhe sees that all around him are living in the same way. Levin could not\nhave believed three months before that he could have gone quietly to\nsleep in the condition in which he was that day, that leading an\naimless, irrational life, living too beyond his means, after drinking to\nexcess (he could not call what happened at the club anything else),\nforming inappropriately friendly relations with a man with whom his wife\nhad once been in love, and a still more inappropriate call upon a woman\nwho could only be called a lost woman, after being fascinated by that\nwoman and causing his wife distress--he could still go quietly to sleep.\nBut under the influence of fatigue, a sleepless night, and the wine he\nhad drunk, his sleep was sound and untroubled.\n\nAt five o'clock the creak of a door opening waked him. He jumped up and\nlooked round. Kitty was not in bed beside him. But there was a light\nmoving behind the screen, and he heard her steps.\n\n\"What is it?... what is it?\" he said, half-asleep. \"Kitty! What is it?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" she said, coming from behind the screen with a candle in her\nhand. \"I felt unwell,\" she said, smiling a particularly sweet and\nmeaning smile.\n\n\"What? has it begun?\" he said in terror. \"We ought to send...\" and\nhurriedly he reached after his clothes.\n\n\"No, no,\" she said, smiling and holding his hand. \"It's sure to be\nnothing. I was rather unwell, only a little. It's all over now.\"\n\nAnd getting into bed, she blew out the candle, lay down and was still.\nThough he thought her stillness suspicious, as though she were holding\nher breath, and still more suspicious the expression of peculiar\ntenderness and excitement with which, as she came from behind the\nscreen, she said \"nothing,\" he was so sleepy that he fell asleep at\nonce. Only later he remembered the stillness of her breathing, and\nunderstood all that must have been passing in her sweet, precious heart\nwhile she lay beside him, not stirring, in anticipation of the greatest\nevent in a woman's life. At seven o'clock he was waked by the touch of\nher hand on his shoulder, and a gentle whisper. She seemed struggling\nbetween regret at waking him, and the desire to talk to him.\n\n\"Kostya, don't be frightened. It's all right. But I fancy.... We ought\nto send for Lizaveta Petrovna.\"\n\nThe candle was lighted again. She was sitting up in bed, holding some\nknitting, which she had been busy upon during the last few days.\n\n\"Please, don't be frightened, it's all right. I'm not a bit afraid,\" she\nsaid, seeing his scared face, and she pressed his hand to her bosom and\nthen to her lips.\n\nHe hurriedly jumped up, hardly awake, and kept his eyes fixed on her, as\nhe put on his dressing gown; then he stopped, still looking at her. He\nhad to go, but he could not tear himself from her eyes. He thought he\nloved her face, knew her expression, her eyes, but never had he seen it\nlike this. How hateful and horrible he seemed to himself, thinking of\nthe distress he had caused her yesterday. Her flushed face, fringed with\nsoft curling hair under her night cap, was radiant with joy and courage.\n\nThough there was so little that was complex or artificial in Kitty's\ncharacter in general, Levin was struck by what was revealed now, when\nsuddenly all disguises were thrown off and the very kernel of her soul\nshone in her eyes. And in this simplicity and nakedness of her soul,\nshe, the very woman he loved in her, was more manifest than ever. She\nlooked at him, smiling; but all at once her brows twitched, she threw up\nher head, and going quickly up to him, clutched his hand and pressed\nclose up to him, breathing her hot breath upon him. She was in pain and\nwas, as it were, complaining to him of her suffering. And for the first\nminute, from habit, it seemed to him that he was to blame. But in her\neyes there was a tenderness that told him that she was far from\nreproaching him, that she loved him for her sufferings. \"If not I, who\nis to blame for it?\" he thought unconsciously, seeking someone\nresponsible for this suffering for him to punish; but there was no one\nresponsible. She was suffering, complaining, and triumphing in her\nsufferings, and rejoicing in them, and loving them. He saw that\nsomething sublime was being accomplished in her soul, but what? He could\nnot make it out. It was beyond his understanding.\n\n\"I have sent to mamma. You go quickly to fetch Lizaveta Petrovna ...\nKostya!... Nothing, it's over.\"\n\nShe moved away from him and rang the bell.\n\n\"Well, go now; Pasha's coming. I am all right.\"\n\nAnd Levin saw with astonishment that she had taken up the knitting she\nhad brought in in the night and begun working at it again.\n\nAs Levin was going out of one door, he heard the maid-servant come in at\nthe other. He stood at the door and heard Kitty giving exact directions\nto the maid, and beginning to help her move the bedstead.\n\nHe dressed, and while they were putting in his horses, as a hired sledge\nwas not to be seen yet, he ran again up to the bedroom, not on tiptoe,\nit seemed to him, but on wings. Two maid-servants were carefully moving\nsomething in the bedroom.\n\nKitty was walking about knitting rapidly and giving directions.\n\n\"I'm going for the doctor. They have sent for Lizaveta Petrovna, but\nI'll go on there too. Isn't there anything wanted? Yes, shall I go to\nDolly's?\"\n\nShe looked at him, obviously not hearing what he was saying.\n\n\"Yes, yes. Do go,\" she said quickly, frowning and waving her hand to\nhim.\n\nHe had just gone into the drawing room, when suddenly a plaintive moan\nsounded from the bedroom, smothered instantly. He stood still, and for a\nlong while he could not understand.\n\n\"Yes, that is she,\" he said to himself, and clutching at his head he ran\ndownstairs.\n\n\"Lord have mercy on us! pardon us! aid us!\" he repeated the words that\nfor some reason came suddenly to his lips. And he, an unbeliever,\nrepeated these words not with his lips only. At that instant he knew\nthat all his doubts, even the impossibility of believing with his\nreason, of which he was aware in himself, did not in the least hinder\nhis turning to God. All of that now floated out of his soul like dust.\nTo whom was he to turn if not to Him in whose hands he felt himself, his\nsoul, and his love?\n\nThe horse was not yet ready, but feeling a peculiar concentration of his\nphysical forces and his intellect on what he had to do, he started off\non foot without waiting for the horse, and told Kouzma to overtake him.\n\nAt the corner he met a night cabman driving hurriedly. In the little\nsledge, wrapped in a velvet cloak, sat Lizaveta Petrovna with a kerchief\nround her head. \"Thank God! thank God!\" he said, overjoyed to recognize\nher little fair face which wore a peculiarly serious, even stern\nexpression. Telling the driver not to stop, he ran along beside her.\n\n\"For two hours, then? Not more?\" she inquired. \"You should let Pyotr\nDmitrievitch know, but don't hurry him. And get some opium at the\nchemist's.\"\n\n\"So you think that it may go on well? Lord have mercy on us and help\nus!\" Levin said, seeing his own horse driving out of the gate. Jumping\ninto the sledge beside Kouzma, he told him to drive to the doctor's.\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\n\nThe doctor was not yet up, and the footman said that \"he had been up\nlate, and had given orders not to be waked, but would get up soon.\" The\nfootman was cleaning the lamp-chimneys, and seemed very busy about them.\nThis concentration of the footman upon his lamps, and his indifference\nto what was passing in Levin, at first astounded him, but immediately on\nconsidering the question he realized that no one knew or was bound to\nknow his feelings, and that it was all the more necessary to act calmly,\nsensibly, and resolutely to get through this wall of indifference and\nattain his aim.\n\n\"Don't be in a hurry or let anything slip,\" Levin said to himself,\nfeeling a greater and greater flow of physical energy and attention to\nall that lay before him to do.\n\nHaving ascertained that the doctor was not getting up, Levin considered\nvarious plans, and decided on the following one: that Kouzma should go\nfor another doctor, while he himself should go to the chemist's for\nopium, and if when he came back the doctor had not yet begun to get up,\nhe would either by tipping the footman, or by force, wake the doctor at\nall hazards.\n\nAt the chemist's the lank shopman sealed up a packet of powders for a\ncoachman who stood waiting, and refused him opium with the same\ncallousness with which the doctor's footman had cleaned his lamp\nchimneys. Trying not to get flurried or out of temper, Levin mentioned\nthe names of the doctor and midwife, and explaining what the opium was\nneeded for, tried to persuade him. The assistant inquired in German\nwhether he should give it, and receiving an affirmative reply from\nbehind the partition, he took out a bottle and a funnel, deliberately\npoured the opium from a bigger bottle into a little one, stuck on a\nlabel, sealed it up, in spite of Levin's request that he would not do\nso, and was about to wrap it up too. This was more than Levin could\nstand; he took the bottle firmly out of his hands, and ran to the big\nglass doors. The doctor was not even now getting up, and the footman,\nbusy now in putting down the rugs, refused to wake him. Levin\ndeliberately took out a ten rouble note, and, careful to speak slowly,\nthough losing no time over the business, he handed him the note, and\nexplained that Pyotr Dmitrievitch (what a great and important personage\nhe seemed to Levin now, this Pyotr Dmitrievitch, who had been of so\nlittle consequence in his eyes before!) had promised to come at any\ntime; that he would certainly not be angry! and that he must therefore\nwake him at once.\n\nThe footman agreed, and went upstairs, taking Levin into the waiting\nroom.\n\nLevin could hear through the door the doctor coughing, moving about,\nwashing, and saying something. Three minutes passed; it seemed to Levin\nthat more than an hour had gone by. He could not wait any longer.\n\n\"Pyotr Dmitrievitch, Pyotr Dmitrievitch!\" he said in an imploring voice\nat the open door. \"For God's sake, forgive me! See me as you are. It's\nbeen going on more than two hours already.\"\n\n\"In a minute; in a minute!\" answered a voice, and to his amazement Levin\nheard that the doctor was smiling as he spoke.\n\n\"For one instant.\"\n\n\"In a minute.\"\n\nTwo minutes more passed while the doctor was putting on his boots, and\ntwo minutes more while the doctor put on his coat and combed his hair.\n\n\"Pyotr Dmitrievitch!\" Levin was beginning again in a plaintive voice,\njust as the doctor came in dressed and ready. \"These people have no\nconscience,\" thought Levin. \"Combing his hair, while we're dying!\"\n\n\"Good morning!\" the doctor said to him, shaking hands, and, as it were,\nteasing him with his composure. \"There's no hurry. Well now?\"\n\nTrying to be as accurate as possible, Levin began to tell him every\nunnecessary detail of his wife's condition, interrupting his account\nrepeatedly with entreaties that the doctor would come with him at once.\n\n\"Oh, you needn't be in any hurry. You don't understand, you know. I'm\ncertain I'm not wanted, still I've promised, and if you like, I'll come.\nBut there's no hurry. Please sit down; won't you have some coffee?\"\n\nLevin stared at him with eyes that asked whether he was laughing at him;\nbut the doctor had no notion of making fun of him.\n\n\"I know, I know,\" the doctor said, smiling; \"I'm a married man myself;\nand at these moments we husbands are very much to be pitied. I've a\npatient whose husband always takes refuge in the stables on such\noccasions.\"\n\n\"But what do you think, Pyotr Dmitrievitch? Do you suppose it may go all\nright?\"\n\n\"Everything points to a favorable issue.\"\n\n\"So you'll come immediately?\" said Levin, looking wrathfully at the\nservant who was bringing in the coffee.\n\n\"In an hour's time.\"\n\n\"Oh, for mercy's sake!\"\n\n\"Well, let me drink my coffee, anyway.\"\n\nThe doctor started upon his coffee. Both were silent.\n\n\"The Turks are really getting beaten, though. Did you read yesterday's\ntelegrams?\" said the doctor, munching some roll.\n\n\"No, I can't stand it!\" said Levin, jumping up. \"So you'll be with us in\na quarter of an hour.\"\n\n\"In half an hour.\"\n\n\"On your honor?\"\n\nWhen Levin got home, he drove up at the same time as the princess, and\nthey went up to the bedroom door together. The princess had tears in her\neyes, and her hands were shaking. Seeing Levin, she embraced him, and\nburst into tears.\n\n\"Well, my dear Lizaveta Petrovna?\" she queried, clasping the hand of the\nmidwife, who came out to meet them with a beaming and anxious face.\n\n\"She's going on well,\" she said; \"persuade her to lie down. She will be\neasier so.\"\n\nFrom the moment when he had waked up and understood what was going on,\nLevin had prepared his mind to bear resolutely what was before him, and\nwithout considering or anticipating anything, to avoid upsetting his\nwife, and on the contrary to soothe her and keep up her courage. Without\nallowing himself even to think of what was to come, of how it would end,\njudging from his inquiries as to the usual duration of these ordeals,\nLevin had in his imagination braced himself to bear up and to keep a\ntight rein on his feelings for five hours, and it had seemed to him he\ncould do this. But when he came back from the doctor's and saw her\nsufferings again, he fell to repeating more and more frequently: \"Lord,\nhave mercy on us, and succor us!\" He sighed, and flung his head up, and\nbegan to feel afraid he could not bear it, that he would burst into\ntears or run away. Such agony it was to him. And only one hour had\npassed.\n\nBut after that hour there passed another hour, two hours, three, the\nfull five hours he had fixed as the furthest limit of his sufferings,\nand the position was still unchanged; and he was still bearing it\nbecause there was nothing to be done but bear it; every instant feeling\nthat he had reached the utmost limits of his endurance, and that his\nheart would break with sympathy and pain.\n\nBut still the minutes passed by and the hours, and still hours more, and\nhis misery and horror grew and were more and more intense.\n\nAll the ordinary conditions of life, without which one can form no\nconception of anything, had ceased to exist for Levin. He lost all sense\nof time. Minutes--those minutes when she sent for him and he held her\nmoist hand, that would squeeze his hand with extraordinary violence and\nthen push it away--seemed to him hours, and hours seemed to him minutes.\nHe was surprised when Lizaveta Petrovna asked him to light a candle\nbehind a screen, and he found that it was five o'clock in the afternoon.\nIf he had been told it was only ten o'clock in the morning, he would not\nhave been more surprised. Where he was all this time, he knew as little\nas the time of anything. He saw her swollen face, sometimes bewildered\nand in agony, sometimes smiling and trying to reassure him. He saw the\nold princess too, flushed and overwrought, with her gray curls in\ndisorder, forcing herself to gulp down her tears, biting her lips; he\nsaw Dolly too and the doctor, smoking fat cigarettes, and Lizaveta\nPetrovna with a firm, resolute, reassuring face, and the old prince\nwalking up and down the hall with a frowning face. But why they came in\nand went out, where they were, he did not know. The princess was with\nthe doctor in the bedroom, then in the study, where a table set for\ndinner suddenly appeared; then she was not there, but Dolly was. Then\nLevin remembered he had been sent somewhere. Once he had been sent to\nmove a table and sofa. He had done this eagerly, thinking it had to be\ndone for her sake, and only later on he found it was his own bed he had\nbeen getting ready. Then he had been sent to the study to ask the doctor\nsomething. The doctor had answered and then had said something about the\nirregularities in the municipal council. Then he had been sent to the\nbedroom to help the old princess to move the holy picture in its silver\nand gold setting, and with the princess's old waiting maid he had\nclambered on a shelf to reach it and had broken the little lamp, and the\nold servant had tried to reassure him about the lamp and about his wife,\nand he carried the holy picture and set it at Kitty's head, carefully\ntucking it in behind the pillow. But where, when, and why all this had\nhappened, he could not tell. He did not understand why the old princess\ntook his hand, and looking compassionately at him, begged him not to\nworry himself, and Dolly persuaded him to eat something and led him out\nof the room, and even the doctor looked seriously and with commiseration\nat him and offered him a drop of something.\n\nAll he knew and felt was that what was happening was what had happened\nnearly a year before in the hotel of the country town at the deathbed of\nhis brother Nikolay. But that had been grief--this was joy. Yet that\ngrief and this joy were alike outside all the ordinary conditions of\nlife; they were loop-holes, as it were, in that ordinary life through\nwhich there came glimpses of something sublime. And in the contemplation\nof this sublime something the soul was exalted to inconceivable heights\nof which it had before had no conception, while reason lagged behind,\nunable to keep up with it.\n\n\"Lord, have mercy on us, and succor us!\" he repeated to himself\nincessantly, feeling, in spite of his long and, as it seemed, complete\nalienation from religion, that he turned to God just as trustfully and\nsimply as he had in his childhood and first youth.\n\nAll this time he had two distinct spiritual conditions. One was away\nfrom her, with the doctor, who kept smoking one fat cigarette after\nanother and extinguishing them on the edge of a full ash tray, with\nDolly, and with the old prince, where there was talk about dinner, about\npolitics, about Marya Petrovna's illness, and where Levin suddenly\nforgot for a minute what was happening, and felt as though he had waked\nup from sleep; the other was in her presence, at her pillow, where his\nheart seemed breaking and still did not break from sympathetic\nsuffering, and he prayed to God without ceasing. And every time he was\nbrought back from a moment of oblivion by a scream reaching him from the\nbedroom, he fell into the same strange terror that had come upon him the\nfirst minute. Every time he heard a shriek, he jumped up, ran to justify\nhimself, remembered on the way that he was not to blame, and he longed\nto defend her, to help her. But as he looked at her, he saw again that\nhelp was impossible, and he was filled with terror and prayed: \"Lord,\nhave mercy on us, and help us!\" And as time went on, both these\nconditions became more intense; the calmer he became away from her,\ncompletely forgetting her, the more agonizing became both her sufferings\nand his feeling of helplessness before them. He jumped up, would have\nliked to run away, but ran to her.\n\nSometimes, when again and again she called upon him, he blamed her; but\nseeing her patient, smiling face, and hearing the words, \"I am worrying\nyou,\" he threw the blame on God; but thinking of God, at once he fell to\nbeseeching God to forgive him and have mercy.\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\n\nHe did not know whether it was late or early. The candles had all burned\nout. Dolly had just been in the study and had suggested to the doctor\nthat he should lie down. Levin sat listening to the doctor's stories of\na quack mesmerizer and looking at the ashes of his cigarette. There had\nbeen a period of repose, and he had sunk into oblivion. He had\ncompletely forgotten what was going on now. He heard the doctor's chat\nand understood it. Suddenly there came an unearthly shriek. The shriek\nwas so awful that Levin did not even jump up, but holding his breath,\ngazed in terrified inquiry at the doctor. The doctor put his head on one\nside, listened, and smiled approvingly. Everything was so extraordinary\nthat nothing could strike Levin as strange. \"I suppose it must be so,\"\nhe thought, and still sat where he was. Whose scream was this? He jumped\nup, ran on tiptoe to the bedroom, edged round Lizaveta Petrovna and the\nprincess, and took up his position at Kitty's pillow. The scream had\nsubsided, but there was some change now. What it was he did not see and\ndid not comprehend, and he had no wish to see or comprehend. But he saw\nit by the face of Lizaveta Petrovna. Lizaveta Petrovna's face was stern\nand pale, and still as resolute, though her jaws were twitching, and her\neyes were fixed intently on Kitty. Kitty's swollen and agonized face, a\ntress of hair clinging to her moist brow, was turned to him and sought\nhis eyes. Her lifted hands asked for his hands. Clutching his chill\nhands in her moist ones, she began squeezing them to her face.\n\n\"Don't go, don't go! I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid!\" she said rapidly.\n\"Mamma, take my earrings. They bother me. You're not afraid? Quick,\nquick, Lizaveta Petrovna...\"\n\nShe spoke quickly, very quickly, and tried to smile. But suddenly her\nface was drawn, she pushed him away.\n\n\"Oh, this is awful! I'm dying, I'm dying! Go away!\" she shrieked, and\nagain he heard that unearthly scream.\n\nLevin clutched at his head and ran out of the room.\n\n\"It's nothing, it's nothing, it's all right,\" Dolly called after him.\n\nBut they might say what they liked, he knew now that all was over. He\nstood in the next room, his head leaning against the door post, and\nheard shrieks, howls such as he had never heard before, and he knew that\nwhat had been Kitty was uttering these shrieks. He had long ago ceased\nto wish for the child. By now he loathed this child. He did not even\nwish for her life now, all he longed for was the end of this awful\nanguish.\n\n\"Doctor! What is it? What is it? By God!\" he said, snatching at the\ndoctor's hand as he came up.\n\n\"It's the end,\" said the doctor. And the doctor's face was so grave as\nhe said it that Levin took _the end_ as meaning her death.\n\nBeside himself, he ran into the bedroom. The first thing he saw was the\nface of Lizaveta Petrovna. It was even more frowning and stern. Kitty's\nface he did not know. In the place where it had been was something that\nwas fearful in its strained distortion and in the sounds that came from\nit. He fell down with his head on the wooden framework of the bed,\nfeeling that his heart was bursting. The awful scream never paused, it\nbecame still more awful, and as though it had reached the utmost limit\nof terror, suddenly it ceased. Levin could not believe his ears, but\nthere could be no doubt; the scream had ceased and he heard a subdued\nstir and bustle, and hurried breathing, and her voice, gasping, alive,\ntender, and blissful, uttered softly, \"It's over!\"\n\nHe lifted his head. With her hands hanging exhausted on the quilt,\nlooking extraordinarily lovely and serene, she looked at him in silence\nand tried to smile, and could not.\n\nAnd suddenly, from the mysterious and awful far-away world in which he\nhad been living for the last twenty-two hours, Levin felt himself all in\nan instant borne back to the old every-day world, glorified though now,\nby such a radiance of happiness that he could not bear it. The strained\nchords snapped, sobs and tears of joy which he had never foreseen rose\nup with such violence that his whole body shook, that for long they\nprevented him from speaking.\n\nFalling on his knees before the bed, he held his wife's hand before his\nlips and kissed it, and the hand, with a weak movement of the fingers,\nresponded to his kiss. And meanwhile, there at the foot of the bed, in\nthe deft hands of Lizaveta Petrovna, like a flickering light in a lamp,\nlay the life of a human creature, which had never existed before, and\nwhich would now with the same right, with the same importance to itself,\nlive and create in its own image.\n\n\"Alive! alive! And a boy too! Set your mind at rest!\" Levin heard\nLizaveta Petrovna saying, as she slapped the baby's back with a shaking\nhand.\n\n\"Mamma, is it true?\" said Kitty's voice.\n\nThe princess's sobs were all the answers she could make. And in the\nmidst of the silence there came in unmistakable reply to the mother's\nquestion, a voice quite unlike the subdued voices speaking in the room.\nIt was the bold, clamorous, self-assertive squall of the new human\nbeing, who had so incomprehensibly appeared.\n\nIf Levin had been told before that Kitty was dead, and that he had died\nwith her, and that their children were angels, and that God was standing\nbefore him, he would have been surprised at nothing. But now, coming\nback to the world of reality, he had to make great mental efforts to\ntake in that she was alive and well, and that the creature squalling so\ndesperately was his son. Kitty was alive, her agony was over. And he was\nunutterably happy. That he understood; he was completely happy in it.\nBut the baby? Whence, why, who was he?... He could not get used to the\nidea. It seemed to him something extraneous, superfluous, to which he\ncould not accustom himself.\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\n\nAt ten o'clock the old prince, Sergey Ivanovitch, and Stepan\nArkadyevitch were sitting at Levin's. Having inquired after Kitty, they\nhad dropped into conversation upon other subjects. Levin heard them, and\nunconsciously, as they talked, going over the past, over what had been\nup to that morning, he thought of himself as he had been yesterday till\nthat point. It was as though a hundred years had passed since then. He\nfelt himself exalted to unattainable heights, from which he studiously\nlowered himself so as not to wound the people he was talking to. He\ntalked, and was all the time thinking of his wife, of her condition now,\nof his son, in whose existence he tried to school himself into\nbelieving. The whole world of woman, which had taken for him since his\nmarriage a new value he had never suspected before, was now so exalted\nthat he could not take it in in his imagination. He heard them talk of\nyesterday's dinner at the club, and thought: \"What is happening with her\nnow? Is she asleep? How is she? What is she thinking of? Is he crying,\nmy son Dmitri?\" And in the middle of the conversation, in the middle of\na sentence, he jumped up and went out of the room.\n\n\"Send me word if I can see her,\" said the prince.\n\n\"Very well, in a minute,\" answered Levin, and without stopping, he went\nto her room.\n\nShe was not asleep, she was talking gently with her mother, making plans\nabout the christening.\n\nCarefully set to rights, with hair well-brushed, in a smart little cap\nwith some blue in it, her arms out on the quilt, she was lying on her\nback. Meeting his eyes, her eyes drew him to her. Her face, bright\nbefore, brightened still more as he drew near her. There was the same\nchange in it from earthly to unearthly that is seen in the face of the\ndead. But then it means farewell, here it meant welcome. Again a rush of\nemotion, such as he had felt at the moment of the child's birth, flooded\nhis heart. She took his hand and asked him if he had slept. He could not\nanswer, and turned away, struggling with his weakness.\n\n\"I have had a nap, Kostya!\" she said to him; \"and I am so comfortable\nnow.\"\n\nShe looked at him, but suddenly her expression changed.\n\n\"Give him to me,\" she said, hearing the baby's cry. \"Give him to me,\nLizaveta Petrovna, and he shall look at him.\"\n\n\"To be sure, his papa shall look at him,\" said Lizaveta Petrovna,\ngetting up and bringing something red, and queer, and wriggling. \"Wait a\nminute, we'll make him tidy first,\" and Lizaveta Petrovna laid the red\nwobbling thing on the bed, began untrussing and trussing up the baby,\nlifting it up and turning it over with one finger and powdering it with\nsomething.\n\nLevin, looking at the tiny, pitiful creature, made strenuous efforts to\ndiscover in his heart some traces of fatherly feeling for it. He felt\nnothing towards it but disgust. But when it was undressed and he caught\na glimpse of wee, wee, little hands, little feet, saffron-colored, with\nlittle toes, too, and positively with a little big toe different from\nthe rest, and when he saw Lizaveta Petrovna closing the wide-open little\nhands, as though they were soft springs, and putting them into linen\ngarments, such pity for the little creature came upon him, and such\nterror that she would hurt it, that he held her hand back.\n\nLizaveta Petrovna laughed.\n\n\"Don't be frightened, don't be frightened!\"\n\nWhen the baby had been put to rights and transformed into a firm doll,\nLizaveta Petrovna dandled it as though proud of her handiwork, and stood\na little away so that Levin might see his son in all his glory.\n\nKitty looked sideways in the same direction, never taking her eyes off\nthe baby. \"Give him to me! give him to me!\" she said, and even made as\nthough she would sit up.\n\n\"What are you thinking of, Katerina Alexandrovna, you mustn't move like\nthat! Wait a minute. I'll give him to you. Here we're showing papa what\na fine fellow we are!\"\n\nAnd Lizaveta Petrovna, with one hand supporting the wobbling head,\nlifted up on the other arm the strange, limp, red creature, whose head\nwas lost in its swaddling clothes. But it had a nose, too, and slanting\neyes and smacking lips.\n\n\"A splendid baby!\" said Lizaveta Petrovna.\n\nLevin sighed with mortification. This splendid baby excited in him no\nfeeling but disgust and compassion. It was not at all the feeling he had\nlooked forward to.\n\nHe turned away while Lizaveta Petrovna put the baby to the unaccustomed\nbreast.\n\nSuddenly laughter made him look round. The baby had taken the breast.\n\n\"Come, that's enough, that's enough!\" said Lizaveta Petrovna, but Kitty\nwould not let the baby go. He fell asleep in her arms.\n\n\"Look, now,\" said Kitty, turning the baby so that he could see it. The\naged-looking little face suddenly puckered up still more and the baby\nsneezed.\n\nSmiling, hardly able to restrain his tears, Levin kissed his wife and\nwent out of the dark room. What he felt towards this little creature was\nutterly unlike what he had expected. There was nothing cheerful and\njoyous in the feeling; on the contrary, it was a new torture of\napprehension. It was the consciousness of a new sphere of liability to\npain. And this sense was so painful at first, the apprehension lest this\nhelpless creature should suffer was so intense, that it prevented him\nfrom noticing the strange thrill of senseless joy and even pride that he\nhad felt when the baby sneezed.\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch's affairs were in a very bad way.\n\nThe money for two-thirds of the forest had all been spent already, and\nhe had borrowed from the merchant in advance at ten per cent discount,\nalmost all the remaining third. The merchant would not give more,\nespecially as Darya Alexandrovna, for the first time that winter\ninsisting on her right to her own property, had refused to sign the\nreceipt for the payment of the last third of the forest. All his salary\nwent on household expenses and in payment of petty debts that could not\nbe put off. There was positively no money.\n\nThis was unpleasant and awkward, and in Stepan Arkadyevitch's opinion\nthings could not go on like this. The explanation of the position was,\nin his view, to be found in the fact that his salary was too small. The\npost he filled had been unmistakably very good five years ago, but it\nwas so no longer.\n\nPetrov, the bank director, had twelve thousand; Sventitsky, a company\ndirector, had seventeen thousand; Mitin, who had founded a bank,\nreceived fifty thousand.\n\n\"Clearly I've been napping, and they've overlooked me,\" Stepan\nArkadyevitch thought about himself. And he began keeping his eyes and\nears open, and towards the end of the winter he had discovered a very\ngood berth and had formed a plan of attack upon it, at first from Moscow\nthrough aunts, uncles, and friends, and then, when the matter was well\nadvanced, in the spring, he went himself to Petersburg. It was one of\nthose snug, lucrative berths of which there are so many more nowadays\nthan there used to be, with incomes ranging from one thousand to fifty\nthousand roubles. It was the post of secretary of the committee of the\namalgamated agency of the southern railways, and of certain banking\ncompanies. This position, like all such appointments, called for such\nimmense energy and such varied qualifications, that it was difficult for\nthem to be found united in any one man. And since a man combining all\nthe qualifications was not to be found, it was at least better that the\npost be filled by an honest than by a dishonest man. And Stepan\nArkadyevitch was not merely an honest man--unemphatically--in the common\nacceptation of the words, he was an honest man--emphatically--in that\nspecial sense which the word has in Moscow, when they talk of an\n\"honest\" politician, an \"honest\" writer, an \"honest\" newspaper, an\n\"honest\" institution, an \"honest\" tendency, meaning not simply that the\nman or the institution is not dishonest, but that they are capable on\noccasion of taking a line of their own in opposition to the authorities.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch moved in those circles in Moscow in which that\nexpression had come into use, was regarded there as an honest man, and\nso had more right to this appointment than others.\n\nThe appointment yielded an income of from seven to ten thousand a year,\nand Oblonsky could fill it without giving up his government position. It\nwas in the hands of two ministers, one lady, and two Jews, and all these\npeople, though the way had been paved already with them, Stepan\nArkadyevitch had to see in Petersburg. Besides this business, Stepan\nArkadyevitch had promised his sister Anna to obtain from Karenin a\ndefinite answer on the question of divorce. And begging fifty roubles\nfrom Dolly, he set off for Petersburg.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch sat in Karenin's study listening to his report on\nthe causes of the unsatisfactory position of Russian finance, and only\nwaiting for the moment when he would finish to speak about his own\nbusiness or about Anna.\n\n\"Yes, that's very true,\" he said, when Alexey Alexandrovitch took off\nthe pince-nez, without which he could not read now, and looked\ninquiringly at his former brother-in-law, \"that's very true in\nparticular cases, but still the principle of our day is freedom.\"\n\n\"Yes, but I lay down another principle, embracing the principle of\nfreedom,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, with emphasis on the word\n\"embracing,\" and he put on his pince-nez again, so as to read the\npassage in which this statement was made. And turning over the\nbeautifully written, wide-margined manuscript, Alexey Alexandrovitch\nread aloud over again the conclusive passage.\n\n\"I don't advocate protection for the sake of private interests, but for\nthe public weal, and for the lower and upper classes equally,\" he said,\nlooking over his pince-nez at Oblonsky. \"But _they_ cannot grasp that,\n_they_ are taken up now with personal interests, and carried away by\nphrases.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch knew that when Karenin began to talk of what _they_\nwere doing and thinking, the persons who would not accept his report and\nwere the cause of everything wrong in Russia, that it was coming near\nthe end. And so now he eagerly abandoned the principle of free-trade,\nand fully agreed. Alexey Alexandrovitch paused, thoughtfully turning\nover the pages of his manuscript.\n\n\"Oh, by the way,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, \"I wanted to ask you, some\ntime when you see Pomorsky, to drop him a hint that I should be very\nglad to get that new appointment of secretary of the committee of the\namalgamated agency of the southern railways and banking companies.\"\nStepan Arkadyevitch was familiar by now with the title of the post he\ncoveted, and he brought it out rapidly without mistake.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch questioned him as to the duties of this new\ncommittee, and pondered. He was considering whether the new committee\nwould not be acting in some way contrary to the views he had been\nadvocating. But as the influence of the new committee was of a very\ncomplex nature, and his views were of very wide application, he could\nnot decide this straight off, and taking off his pince-nez, he said:\n\n\"Of course, I can mention it to him; but what is your reason precisely\nfor wishing to obtain the appointment?\"\n\n\"It's a good salary, rising to nine thousand, and my means...\"\n\n\"Nine thousand!\" repeated Alexey Alexandrovitch, and he frowned. The\nhigh figure of the salary made him reflect that on that side Stepan\nArkadyevitch's proposed position ran counter to the main tendency of his\nown projects of reform, which always leaned towards economy.\n\n\"I consider, and I have embodied my views in a note on the subject, that\nin our day these immense salaries are evidence of the unsound economic\n_assiette_ of our finances.\"\n\n\"But what's to be done?\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"Suppose a bank\ndirector gets ten thousand--well, he's worth it; or an engineer gets\ntwenty thousand--after all, it's a growing thing, you know!\"\n\n\"I assume that a salary is the price paid for a commodity, and it ought\nto conform with the law of supply and demand. If the salary is fixed\nwithout any regard for that law, as, for instance, when I see two\nengineers leaving college together, both equally well trained and\nefficient, and one getting forty thousand while the other is satisfied\nwith two; or when I see lawyers and hussars, having no special\nqualifications, appointed directors of banking companies with immense\nsalaries, I conclude that the salary is not fixed in accordance with the\nlaw of supply and demand, but simply through personal interest. And this\nis an abuse of great gravity in itself, and one that reacts injuriously\non the government service. I consider...\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch made haste to interrupt his brother-in-law.\n\n\"Yes; but you must agree that it's a new institution of undoubted\nutility that's being started. After all, you know, it's a growing thing!\nWhat they lay particular stress on is the thing being carried on\nhonestly,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch with emphasis.\n\nBut the Moscow significance of the word \"honest\" was lost on Alexey\nAlexandrovitch.\n\n\"Honesty is only a negative qualification,\" he said.\n\n\"Well, you'll do me a great service, anyway,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\n\"by putting in a word to Pomorsky--just in the way of conversation....\"\n\n\"But I fancy it's more in Volgarinov's hands,\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch.\n\n\"Volgarinov has fully assented, as far as he's concerned,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, turning red. Stepan Arkadyevitch reddened at the mention\nof that name, because he had been that morning at the Jew Volgarinov's,\nand the visit had left an unpleasant recollection.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch believed most positively that the committee in which\nhe was trying to get an appointment was a new, genuine, and honest\npublic body, but that morning when Volgarinov had--intentionally, beyond\na doubt--kept him two hours waiting with other petitioners in his\nwaiting room, he had suddenly felt uneasy.\n\nWhether he was uncomfortable that he, a descendant of Rurik, Prince\nOblonsky, had been kept for two hours waiting to see a Jew, or that for\nthe first time in his life he was not following the example of his\nancestors in serving the government, but was turning off into a new\ncareer, anyway he was very uncomfortable. During those two hours in\nVolgarinov's waiting room Stepan Arkadyevitch, stepping jauntily about\nthe room, pulling his whiskers, entering into conversation with the\nother petitioners, and inventing an epigram on his position, assiduously\nconcealed from others, and even from himself, the feeling he was\nexperiencing.\n\nBut all the time he was uncomfortable and angry, he could not have said\nwhy--whether because he could not get his epigram just right, or from\nsome other reason. When at last Volgarinov had received him with\nexaggerated politeness and unmistakable triumph at his humiliation, and\nhad all but refused the favor asked of him, Stepan Arkadyevitch had made\nhaste to forget it all as soon as possible. And now, at the mere\nrecollection, he blushed.\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\n\n\"Now there is something I want to talk about, and you know what it is.\nAbout Anna,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch said, pausing for a brief space, and\nshaking off the unpleasant impression.\n\nAs soon as Oblonsky uttered Anna's name, the face of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch was completely transformed; all the life was gone out of\nit, and it looked weary and dead.\n\n\"What is it exactly that you want from me?\" he said, moving in his chair\nand snapping his pince-nez.\n\n\"A definite settlement, Alexey Alexandrovitch, some settlement of the\nposition. I'm appealing to you\" (\"not as an injured husband,\" Stepan\nArkadyevitch was going to say, but afraid of wrecking his negotiation by\nthis, he changed the words) \"not as a statesman\" (which did not sound _a\npropos_), \"but simply as a man, and a good-hearted man and a Christian.\nYou must have pity on her,\" he said.\n\n\"That is, in what way precisely?\" Karenin said softly.\n\n\"Yes, pity on her. If you had seen her as I have!--I have been spending\nall the winter with her--you would have pity on her. Her position is\nawful, simply awful!\"\n\n\"I had imagined,\" answered Alexey Alexandrovitch in a higher, almost\nshrill voice, \"that Anna Arkadyevna had everything she had desired for\nherself.\"\n\n\"Oh, Alexey Alexandrovitch, for heaven's sake, don't let us indulge in\nrecriminations! What is past is past, and you know what she wants and is\nwaiting for--divorce.\"\n\n\"But I believe Anna Arkadyevna refuses a divorce, if I make it a\ncondition to leave me my son. I replied in that sense, and supposed that\nthe matter was ended. I consider it at an end,\" shrieked Alexey\nAlexandrovitch.\n\n\"But, for heaven's sake, don't get hot!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\ntouching his brother-in-law's knee. \"The matter is not ended. If you\nwill allow me to recapitulate, it was like this: when you parted, you\nwere as magnanimous as could possibly be; you were ready to give her\neverything--freedom, divorce even. She appreciated that. No, don't think\nthat. She did appreciate it--to such a degree that at the first moment,\nfeeling how she had wronged you, she did not consider and could not\nconsider everything. She gave up everything. But experience, time, have\nshown that her position is unbearable, impossible.\"\n\n\"The life of Anna Arkadyevna can have no interest for me,\" Alexey\nAlexandrovitch put in, lifting his eyebrows.\n\n\"Allow me to disbelieve that,\" Stepan Arkadyevitch replied gently. \"Her\nposition is intolerable for her, and of no benefit to anyone whatever.\nShe has deserved it, you will say. She knows that and asks you for\nnothing; she says plainly that she dare not ask you. But I, all of us,\nher relatives, all who love her, beg you, entreat you. Why should she\nsuffer? Who is any the better for it?\"\n\n\"Excuse me, you seem to put me in the position of the guilty party,\"\nobserved Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"Oh, no, oh, no, not at all! please understand me,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, touching his hand again, as though feeling sure this\nphysical contact would soften his brother-in-law. \"All I say is this:\nher position is intolerable, and it might be alleviated by you, and you\nwill lose nothing by it. I will arrange it all for you, so that you'll\nnot notice it. You did promise it, you know.\"\n\n\"The promise was given before. And I had supposed that the question of\nmy son had settled the matter. Besides, I had hoped that Anna Arkadyevna\nhad enough generosity...\" Alexey Alexandrovitch articulated with\ndifficulty, his lips twitching and his face white.\n\n\"She leaves it all to your generosity. She begs, she implores one thing\nof you--to extricate her from the impossible position in which she is\nplaced. She does not ask for her son now. Alexey Alexandrovitch, you are\na good man. Put yourself in her position for a minute. The question of\ndivorce for her in her position is a question of life and death. If you\nhad not promised it once, she would have reconciled herself to her\nposition, she would have gone on living in the country. But you promised\nit, and she wrote to you, and moved to Moscow. And here she's been for\nsix months in Moscow, where every chance meeting cuts her to the heart,\nevery day expecting an answer. Why, it's like keeping a condemned\ncriminal for six months with the rope round his neck, promising him\nperhaps death, perhaps mercy. Have pity on her, and I will undertake to\narrange everything. _Vos scrupules_...\"\n\n\"I am not talking about that, about that...\" Alexey Alexandrovitch\ninterrupted with disgust. \"But, perhaps, I promised what I had no right\nto promise.\"\n\n\"So you go back from your promise?\"\n\n\"I have never refused to do all that is possible, but I want time to\nconsider how much of what I promised is possible.\"\n\n\"No, Alexey Alexandrovitch!\" cried Oblonsky, jumping up, \"I won't\nbelieve that! She's unhappy as only an unhappy woman can be, and you\ncannot refuse in such...\"\n\n\"As much of what I promised as is possible. _Vous professez d'etre libre\npenseur._ But I as a believer cannot, in a matter of such gravity, act\nin opposition to the Christian law.\"\n\n\"But in Christian societies and among us, as far as I'm aware, divorce\nis allowed,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"Divorce is sanctioned even by\nour church. And we see...\"\n\n\"It is allowed, but not in the sense...\"\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch, you are not like yourself,\" said Oblonsky, after\na brief pause. \"Wasn't it you (and didn't we all appreciate it in you?)\nwho forgave everything, and moved simply by Christian feeling was ready\nto make any sacrifice? You said yourself: if a man take thy coat, give\nhim thy cloak also, and now...\"\n\n\"I beg,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch shrilly, getting suddenly onto his\nfeet, his face white and his jaws twitching, \"I beg you to drop this ...\nto drop ... this subject!\"\n\n\"Oh, no! Oh, forgive me, forgive me if I have wounded you,\" said Stepan\nArkadyevitch, holding out his hand with a smile of embarrassment; \"but\nlike a messenger I have simply performed the commission given me.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch gave him his hand, pondered a little, and said:\n\n\"I must think it over and seek for guidance. The day after tomorrow I\nwill give you a final answer,\" he said, after considering a moment.\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was about to go away when Korney came in to\nannounce:\n\n\"Sergey Alexyevitch!\"\n\n\"Who's Sergey Alexyevitch?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch was beginning, but he\nremembered immediately.\n\n\"Ah, Seryozha!\" he said aloud. \"Sergey Alexyevitch! I thought it was the\ndirector of a department. Anna asked me to see him too,\" he thought.\n\nAnd he recalled the timid, piteous expression with which Anna had said\nto him at parting: \"Anyway, you will see him. Find out exactly where he\nis, who is looking after him. And Stiva ... if it were possible! Could\nit be possible?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch knew what was meant by that \"if it\nwere possible,\"--if it were possible to arrange the divorce so as to let\nher have her son.... Stepan Arkadyevitch saw now that it was no good to\ndream of that, but still he was glad to see his nephew.\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch reminded his brother-in-law that they never spoke\nto the boy of his mother, and he begged him not to mention a single word\nabout her.\n\n\"He was very ill after that interview with his mother, which we had not\nforeseen,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch. \"Indeed, we feared for his life.\nBut with rational treatment, and sea-bathing in the summer, he regained\nhis strength, and now, by the doctor's advice, I have let him go to\nschool. And certainly the companionship of school has had a good effect\non him, and he is perfectly well, and making good progress.\"\n\n\"What a fine fellow he's grown! He's not Seryozha now, but quite\nfull-fledged Sergey Alexyevitch!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling, as\nhe looked at the handsome, broad-shouldered lad in blue coat and long\ntrousers, who walked in alertly and confidently. The boy looked healthy\nand good-humored. He bowed to his uncle as to a stranger, but\nrecognizing him, he blushed and turned hurriedly away from him, as\nthough offended and irritated at something. The boy went up to his\nfather and handed him a note of the marks he had gained in school.\n\n\"Well, that's very fair,\" said his father, \"you can go.\"\n\n\"He's thinner and taller, and has grown out of being a child into a boy;\nI like that,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"Do you remember me?\"\n\nThe boy looked back quickly at his uncle.\n\n\"Yes, _mon oncle_,\" he answered, glancing at his father, and again he\nlooked downcast.\n\nHis uncle called him to him, and took his hand.\n\n\"Well, and how are you getting on?\" he said, wanting to talk to him, and\nnot knowing what to say.\n\nThe boy, blushing and making no answer, cautiously drew his hand away.\nAs soon as Stepan Arkadyevitch let go his hand, he glanced doubtfully at\nhis father, and like a bird set free, he darted out of the room.\n\nA year had passed since the last time Seryozha had seen his mother.\nSince then he had heard nothing more of her. And in the course of that\nyear he had gone to school, and made friends among his schoolfellows.\nThe dreams and memories of his mother, which had made him ill after\nseeing her, did not occupy his thoughts now. When they came back to him,\nhe studiously drove them away, regarding them as shameful and girlish,\nbelow the dignity of a boy and a schoolboy. He knew that his father and\nmother were separated by some quarrel, he knew that he had to remain\nwith his father, and he tried to get used to that idea.\n\nHe disliked seeing his uncle, so like his mother, for it called up those\nmemories of which he was ashamed. He disliked it all the more as from\nsome words he had caught as he waited at the study door, and still more\nfrom the faces of his father and uncle, he guessed that they must have\nbeen talking of his mother. And to avoid condemning the father with whom\nhe lived and on whom he was dependent, and, above all, to avoid giving\nway to sentimentality, which he considered so degrading, Seryozha tried\nnot to look at his uncle who had come to disturb his peace of mind, and\nnot to think of what he recalled to him.\n\nBut when Stepan Arkadyevitch, going out after him, saw him on the\nstairs, and calling to him, asked him how he spent his playtime at\nschool, Seryozha talked more freely to him away from his father's\npresence.\n\n\"We have a railway now,\" he said in answer to his uncle's question.\n\"It's like this, do you see: two sit on a bench--they're the passengers;\nand one stands up straight on the bench. And all are harnessed to it by\ntheir arms or by their belts, and they run through all the rooms--the\ndoors are left open beforehand. Well, and it's pretty hard work being\nthe conductor!\"\n\n\"That's the one that stands?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch inquired, smiling.\n\n\"Yes, you want pluck for it, and cleverness too, especially when they\nstop all of a sudden, or someone falls down.\"\n\n\"Yes, that must be a serious matter,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, watching\nwith mournful interest the eager eyes, like his mother's; not childish\nnow--no longer fully innocent. And though he had promised Alexey\nAlexandrovitch not to speak of Anna, he could not restrain himself.\n\n\"Do you remember your mother?\" he asked suddenly.\n\n\"No, I don't,\" Seryozha said quickly. He blushed crimson, and his face\nclouded over. And his uncle could get nothing more out of him. His tutor\nfound his pupil on the staircase half an hour later, and for a long\nwhile he could not make out whether he was ill-tempered or crying.\n\n\"What is it? I expect you hurt yourself when you fell down?\" said the\ntutor. \"I told you it was a dangerous game. And we shall have to speak\nto the director.\"\n\n\"If I had hurt myself, nobody should have found it out, that's certain.\"\n\n\"Well, what is it, then?\"\n\n\"Leave me alone! If I remember, or if I don't remember?... what business\nis it of his? Why should I remember? Leave me in peace!\" he said,\naddressing not his tutor, but the whole world.\n\n\n\nChapter 20\n\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch, as usual, did not waste his time in Petersburg. In\nPetersburg, besides business, his sister's divorce, and his coveted\nappointment, he wanted, as he always did, to freshen himself up, as he\nsaid, after the mustiness of Moscow.\n\nIn spite of its _cafes chantants_ and its omnibuses, Moscow was yet a\nstagnant bog. Stepan Arkadyevitch always felt it. After living for some\ntime in Moscow, especially in close relations with his family, he was\nconscious of a depression of spirits. After being a long time in Moscow\nwithout a change, he reached a point when he positively began to be\nworrying himself over his wife's ill-humor and reproaches, over his\nchildren's health and education, and the petty details of his official\nwork; even the fact of being in debt worried him. But he had only to go\nand stay a little while in Petersburg, in the circle there in which he\nmoved, where people lived--really lived--instead of vegetating as in\nMoscow, and all such ideas vanished and melted away at once, like wax\nbefore the fire. His wife?... Only that day he had been talking to\nPrince Tchetchensky. Prince Tchetchensky had a wife and family, grown-up\npages in the corps, ... and he had another illegitimate family of\nchildren also. Though the first family was very nice too, Prince\nTchetchensky felt happier in his second family; and he used to take his\neldest son with him to his second family, and told Stepan Arkadyevitch\nthat he thought it good for his son, enlarging his ideas. What would\nhave been said to that in Moscow?\n\nHis children? In Petersburg children did not prevent their parents from\nenjoying life. The children were brought up in schools, and there was no\ntrace of the wild idea that prevailed in Moscow, in Lvov's household,\nfor instance, that all the luxuries of life were for the children, while\nthe parents have nothing but work and anxiety. Here people understood\nthat a man is in duty bound to live for himself, as every man of culture\nshould live.\n\nHis official duties? Official work here was not the stiff, hopeless\ndrudgery that it was in Moscow. Here there was some interest in official\nlife. A chance meeting, a service rendered, a happy phrase, a knack of\nfacetious mimicry, and a man's career might be made in a trice. So it\nhad been with Bryantsev, whom Stepan Arkadyevitch had met the previous\nday, and who was one of the highest functionaries in government now.\nThere was some interest in official work like that.\n\nThe Petersburg attitude on pecuniary matters had an especially soothing\neffect on Stepan Arkadyevitch. Bartnyansky, who must spend at least\nfifty thousand to judge by the style he lived in, had made an\ninteresting comment the day before on that subject.\n\nAs they were talking before dinner, Stepan Arkadyevitch said to\nBartnyansky:\n\n\"You're friendly, I fancy, with Mordvinsky; you might do me a favor: say\na word to him, please, for me. There's an appointment I should like to\nget--secretary of the agency...\"\n\n\"Oh, I shan't remember all that, if you tell it to me.... But what\npossesses you to have to do with railways and Jews?... Take it as you\nwill, it's a low business.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch did not say to Bartnyansky that it was a \"growing\nthing\"--Bartnyansky would not have understood that.\n\n\"I want the money, I've nothing to live on.\"\n\n\"You're living, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Yes, but in debt.\"\n\n\"Are you, though? Heavily?\" said Bartnyansky sympathetically.\n\n\"Very heavily: twenty thousand.\"\n\nBartnyansky broke into good-humored laughter.\n\n\"Oh, lucky fellow!\" said he. \"My debts mount up to a million and a half,\nand I've nothing, and still I can live, as you see!\"\n\nAnd Stepan Arkadyevitch saw the correctness of this view not in words\nonly but in actual fact. Zhivahov owed three hundred thousand, and\nhadn't a farthing to bless himself with, and he lived, and in style too!\nCount Krivtsov was considered a hopeless case by everyone, and yet he\nkept two mistresses. Petrovsky had run through five millions, and still\nlived in just the same style, and was even a manager in the financial\ndepartment with a salary of twenty thousand. But besides this,\nPetersburg had physically an agreeable effect on Stepan Arkadyevitch. It\nmade him younger. In Moscow he sometimes found a gray hair in his head,\ndropped asleep after dinner, stretched, walked slowly upstairs,\nbreathing heavily, was bored by the society of young women, and did not\ndance at balls. In Petersburg he always felt ten years younger.\n\nHis experience in Petersburg was exactly what had been described to him\non the previous day by Prince Pyotr Oblonsky, a man of sixty, who had\njust come back from abroad:\n\n\"We don't know the way to live here,\" said Pyotr Oblonsky. \"I spent the\nsummer in Baden, and you wouldn't believe it, I felt quite a young man.\nAt a glimpse of a pretty woman, my thoughts.... One dines and drinks a\nglass of wine, and feels strong and ready for anything. I came home to\nRussia--had to see my wife, and, what's more, go to my country place;\nand there, you'd hardly believe it, in a fortnight I'd got into a\ndressing gown and given up dressing for dinner. Needn't say I had no\nthoughts left for pretty women. I became quite an old gentleman. There\nwas nothing left for me but to think of my eternal salvation. I went off\nto Paris--I was as right as could be at once.\"\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch felt exactly the difference that Pyotr Oblonsky\ndescribed. In Moscow he degenerated so much that if he had had to be\nthere for long together, he might in good earnest have come to\nconsidering his salvation; in Petersburg he felt himself a man of the\nworld again.\n\nBetween Princess Betsy Tverskaya and Stepan Arkadyevitch there had long\nexisted rather curious relations. Stepan Arkadyevitch always flirted\nwith her in jest, and used to say to her, also in jest, the most\nunseemly things, knowing that nothing delighted her so much. The day\nafter his conversation with Karenin, Stepan Arkadyevitch went to see\nher, and felt so youthful that in this jesting flirtation and nonsense\nhe recklessly went so far that he did not know how to extricate himself,\nas unluckily he was so far from being attracted by her that he thought\nher positively disagreeable. What made it hard to change the\nconversation was the fact that he was very attractive to her. So that he\nwas considerably relieved at the arrival of Princess Myakaya, which cut\nshort their _tete-a-tete_.\n\n\"Ah, so you're here!\" said she when she saw him. \"Well, and what news of\nyour poor sister? You needn't look at me like that,\" she added. \"Ever\nsince they've all turned against her, all those who're a thousand times\nworse than she, I've thought she did a very fine thing. I can't forgive\nVronsky for not letting me know when she was in Petersburg. I'd have\ngone to see her and gone about with her everywhere. Please give her my\nlove. Come, tell me about her.\"\n\n\"Yes, her position is very difficult; she...\" began Stepan Arkadyevitch,\nin the simplicity of his heart accepting as sterling coin Princess\nMyakaya's words \"tell me about her.\" Princess Myakaya interrupted him\nimmediately, as she always did, and began talking herself.\n\n\"She's done what they all do, except me--only they hide it. But she\nwouldn't be deceitful, and she did a fine thing. And she did better\nstill in throwing up that crazy brother-in-law of yours. You must excuse\nme. Everybody used to say he was so clever, so very clever; I was the\nonly one that said he was a fool. Now that he's so thick with Lidia\nIvanovna and Landau, they all say he's crazy, and I should prefer not to\nagree with everybody, but this time I can't help it.\"\n\n\"Oh, do please explain,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch; \"what does it mean?\nYesterday I was seeing him on my sister's behalf, and I asked him to\ngive me a final answer. He gave me no answer, and said he would think it\nover. But this morning, instead of an answer, I received an invitation\nfrom Countess Lidia Ivanovna for this evening.\"\n\n\"Ah, so that's it, that's it!\" said Princess Myakaya gleefully, \"they're\ngoing to ask Landau what he's to say.\"\n\n\"Ask Landau? What for? Who or what's Landau?\"\n\n\"What! you don't know Jules Landau, _le fameux Jules Landau, le\nclairvoyant_? He's crazy too, but on him your sister's fate depends. See\nwhat comes of living in the provinces--you know nothing about anything.\nLandau, do you see, was a _commis_ in a shop in Paris, and he went to a\ndoctor's; and in the doctor's waiting room he fell asleep, and in his\nsleep he began giving advice to all the patients. And wonderful advice\nit was! Then the wife of Yury Meledinsky--you know, the invalid?--heard\nof this Landau, and had him to see her husband. And he cured her\nhusband, though I can't say that I see he did him much good, for he's\njust as feeble a creature as ever he was, but they believed in him, and\ntook him along with them and brought him to Russia. Here there's been a\ngeneral rush to him, and he's begun doctoring everyone. He cured\nCountess Bezzubova, and she took such a fancy to him that she adopted\nhim.\"\n\n\"Adopted him?\"\n\n\"Yes, as her son. He's not Landau any more now, but Count Bezzubov.\nThat's neither here nor there, though; but Lidia--I'm very fond of her,\nbut she has a screw loose somewhere--has lost her heart to this Landau\nnow, and nothing is settled now in her house or Alexey Alexandrovitch's\nwithout him, and so your sister's fate is now in the hands of Landau,\n_alias_ Count Bezzubov.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 21\n\n\nAfter a capital dinner and a great deal of cognac drunk at\nBartnyansky's, Stepan Arkadyevitch, only a little later than the\nappointed time, went in to Countess Lidia Ivanovna's.\n\n\"Who else is with the countess?--a Frenchman?\" Stepan Arkadyevitch asked\nthe hall porter, as he glanced at the familiar overcoat of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch and a queer, rather artless-looking overcoat with clasps.\n\n\"Alexey Alexandrovitch Karenin and Count Bezzubov,\" the porter answered\nseverely.\n\n\"Princess Myakaya guessed right,\" thought Stepan Arkadyevitch, as he\nwent upstairs. \"Curious! It would be quite as well, though, to get on\nfriendly terms with her. She has immense influence. If she would say a\nword to Pomorsky, the thing would be a certainty.\"\n\nIt was still quite light out-of-doors, but in Countess Lidia Ivanovna's\nlittle drawing room the blinds were drawn and the lamps lighted. At a\nround table under a lamp sat the countess and Alexey Alexandrovitch,\ntalking softly. A short, thinnish man, very pale and handsome, with\nfeminine hips and knock-kneed legs, with fine brilliant eyes and long\nhair lying on the collar of his coat, was standing at the end of the\nroom gazing at the portraits on the wall. After greeting the lady of the\nhouse and Alexey Alexandrovitch, Stepan Arkadyevitch could not resist\nglancing once more at the unknown man.\n\n\"Monsieur Landau!\" the countess addressed him with a softness and\ncaution that impressed Oblonsky. And she introduced them.\n\nLandau looked round hurriedly, came up, and smiling, laid his moist,\nlifeless hand in Stepan Arkadyevitch's outstretched hand and immediately\nwalked away and fell to gazing at the portraits again. The countess and\nAlexey Alexandrovitch looked at each other significantly.\n\n\"I am very glad to see you, particularly today,\" said Countess Lidia\nIvanovna, pointing Stepan Arkadyevitch to a seat beside Karenin.\n\n\"I introduced you to him as Landau,\" she said in a soft voice, glancing\nat the Frenchman and again immediately after at Alexey Alexandrovitch,\n\"but he is really Count Bezzubov, as you're probably aware. Only he does\nnot like the title.\"\n\n\"Yes, I heard so,\" answered Stepan Arkadyevitch; \"they say he completely\ncured Countess Bezzubova.\"\n\n\"She was here today, poor thing!\" the countess said, turning to Alexey\nAlexandrovitch. \"This separation is awful for her. It's such a blow to\nher!\"\n\n\"And he positively is going?\" queried Alexey Alexandrovitch.\n\n\"Yes, he's going to Paris. He heard a voice yesterday,\" said Countess\nLidia Ivanovna, looking at Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"Ah, a voice!\" repeated Oblonsky, feeling that he must be as circumspect\nas he possibly could in this society, where something peculiar was going\non, or was to go on, to which he had not the key.\n\nA moment's silence followed, after which Countess Lidia Ivanovna, as\nthough approaching the main topic of conversation, said with a fine\nsmile to Oblonsky:\n\n\"I've known you for a long while, and am very glad to make a closer\nacquaintance with you. _Les amis de nos amis sont nos amis._ But to be a\ntrue friend, one must enter into the spiritual state of one's friend,\nand I fear that you are not doing so in the case of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch. You understand what I mean?\" she said, lifting her fine\npensive eyes.\n\n\"In part, countess, I understand the position of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch...\" said Oblonsky. Having no clear idea what they were\ntalking about, he wanted to confine himself to generalities.\n\n\"The change is not in his external position,\" Countess Lidia Ivanovna\nsaid sternly, following with eyes of love the figure of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch as he got up and crossed over to Landau; \"his heart is\nchanged, a new heart has been vouchsafed him, and I fear you don't fully\napprehend the change that has taken place in him.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, in general outlines I can conceive the change. We have always\nbeen friendly, and now...\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, responding with a\nsympathetic glance to the expression of the countess, and mentally\nbalancing the question with which of the two ministers she was most\nintimate, so as to know about which to ask her to speak for him.\n\n\"The change that has taken place in him cannot lessen his love for his\nneighbors; on the contrary, that change can only intensify love in his\nheart. But I am afraid you do not understand me. Won't you have some\ntea?\" she said, with her eyes indicating the footman, who was handing\nround tea on a tray.\n\n\"Not quite, countess. Of course, his misfortune...\"\n\n\"Yes, a misfortune which has proved the highest happiness, when his\nheart was made new, was filled full of it,\" she said, gazing with eyes\nfull of love at Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"I do believe I might ask her to speak to both of them,\" thought Stepan\nArkadyevitch.\n\n\"Oh, of course, countess,\" he said; \"but I imagine such changes are a\nmatter so private that no one, even the most intimate friend, would care\nto speak of them.\"\n\n\"On the contrary! We ought to speak freely and help one another.\"\n\n\"Yes, undoubtedly so, but there is such a difference of convictions, and\nbesides...\" said Oblonsky with a soft smile.\n\n\"There can be no difference where it is a question of holy truth.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, of course; but...\" and Stepan Arkadyevitch paused in confusion.\nHe understood at last that they were talking of religion.\n\n\"I fancy he will fall asleep immediately,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch in\na whisper full of meaning, going up to Lidia Ivanovna.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch looked round. Landau was sitting at the window,\nleaning on his elbow and the back of his chair, his head drooping.\nNoticing that all eyes were turned on him he raised his head and smiled\na smile of childlike artlessness.\n\n\"Don't take any notice,\" said Lidia Ivanovna, and she lightly moved a\nchair up for Alexey Alexandrovitch. \"I have observed...\" she was\nbeginning, when a footman came into the room with a letter. Lidia\nIvanovna rapidly ran her eyes over the note, and excusing herself, wrote\nan answer with extraordinary rapidity, handed it to the man, and came\nback to the table. \"I have observed,\" she went on, \"that Moscow people,\nespecially the men, are more indifferent to religion than anyone.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, countess, I thought Moscow people had the reputation of being\nthe firmest in the faith,\" answered Stepan Arkadyevitch.\n\n\"But as far as I can make out, you are unfortunately one of the\nindifferent ones,\" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, turning to him with a\nweary smile.\n\n\"How anyone can be indifferent!\" said Lidia Ivanovna.\n\n\"I am not so much indifferent on that subject as I am waiting in\nsuspense,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, with his most deprecating smile. \"I\nhardly think that the time for such questions has come yet for me.\"\n\nAlexey Alexandrovitch and Lidia Ivanovna looked at each other.\n\n\"We can never tell whether the time has come for us or not,\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch severely. \"We ought not to think whether we are ready or\nnot ready. God's grace is not guided by human considerations: sometimes\nit comes not to those that strive for it, and comes to those that are\nunprepared, like Saul.\"\n\n\"No, I believe it won't be just yet,\" said Lidia Ivanovna, who had been\nmeanwhile watching the movements of the Frenchman. Landau got up and\ncame to them.\n\n\"Do you allow me to listen?\" he asked.\n\n\"Oh, yes; I did not want to disturb you,\" said Lidia Ivanovna, gazing\ntenderly at him; \"sit here with us.\"\n\n\"One has only not to close one's eyes to shut out the light,\" Alexey\nAlexandrovitch went on.\n\n\"Ah, if you knew the happiness we know, feeling His presence ever in our\nhearts!\" said Countess Lidia Ivanovna with a rapturous smile.\n\n\"But a man may feel himself unworthy sometimes to rise to that height,\"\nsaid Stepan Arkadyevitch, conscious of hypocrisy in admitting this\nreligious height, but at the same time unable to bring himself to\nacknowledge his free-thinking views before a person who, by a single\nword to Pomorsky, might procure him the coveted appointment.\n\n\"That is, you mean that sin keeps him back?\" said Lidia Ivanovna. \"But\nthat is a false idea. There is no sin for believers, their sin has been\natoned for. _Pardon,_\" she added, looking at the footman, who came in\nagain with another letter. She read it and gave a verbal answer:\n\"Tomorrow at the Grand Duchess's, say.\" \"For the believer sin is not,\"\nshe went on.\n\n\"Yes, but faith without works is dead,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\nrecalling the phrase from the catechism, and only by his smile clinging\nto his independence.\n\n\"There you have it--from the epistle of St. James,\" said Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, addressing Lidia Ivanovna, with a certain\nreproachfulness in his tone. It was unmistakably a subject they had\ndiscussed more than once before. \"What harm has been done by the false\ninterpretation of that passage! Nothing holds men back from belief like\nthat misinterpretation. 'I have not works, so I cannot believe,' though\nall the while that is not said. But the very opposite is said.\"\n\n\"Striving for God, saving the soul by fasting,\" said Countess Lidia\nIvanovna, with disgusted contempt, \"those are the crude ideas of our\nmonks.... Yet that is nowhere said. It is far simpler and easier,\" she\nadded, looking at Oblonsky with the same encouraging smile with which at\ncourt she encouraged youthful maids of honor, disconcerted by the new\nsurroundings of the court.\n\n\"We are saved by Christ who suffered for us. We are saved by faith,\"\nAlexey Alexandrovitch chimed in, with a glance of approval at her words.\n\n_\"Vous comprenez l'anglais?\"_ asked Lidia Ivanovna, and receiving a\nreply in the affirmative, she got up and began looking through a shelf\nof books.\n\n\"I want to read him 'Safe and Happy,' or 'Under the Wing,'\" she said,\nlooking inquiringly at Karenin. And finding the book, and sitting down\nagain in her place, she opened it. \"It's very short. In it is described\nthe way by which faith can be reached, and the happiness, above all\nearthly bliss, with which it fills the soul. The believer cannot be\nunhappy because he is not alone. But you will see.\" She was just\nsettling herself to read when the footman came in again. \"Madame\nBorozdina? Tell her, tomorrow at two o'clock. Yes,\" she said, putting\nher finger in the place in the book, and gazing before her with her fine\npensive eyes, \"that is how true faith acts. You know Marie Sanina? You\nknow about her trouble? She lost her only child. She was in despair. And\nwhat happened? She found this comforter, and she thanks God now for the\ndeath of her child. Such is the happiness faith brings!\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, that is most...\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, glad they were\ngoing to read, and let him have a chance to collect his faculties. \"No,\nI see I'd better not ask her about anything today,\" he thought. \"If only\nI can get out of this without putting my foot in it!\"\n\n\"It will be dull for you,\" said Countess Lidia Ivanovna, addressing\nLandau; \"you don't know English, but it's short.\"\n\n\"Oh, I shall understand,\" said Landau, with the same smile, and he\nclosed his eyes. Alexey Alexandrovitch and Lidia Ivanovna exchanged\nmeaningful glances, and the reading began.\n\n\n\nChapter 22\n\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch felt completely nonplussed by the strange talk which\nhe was hearing for the first time. The complexity of Petersburg, as a\nrule, had a stimulating effect on him, rousing him out of his Moscow\nstagnation. But he liked these complications, and understood them only\nin the circles he knew and was at home in. In these unfamiliar\nsurroundings he was puzzled and disconcerted, and could not get his\nbearings. As he listened to Countess Lidia Ivanovna, aware of the\nbeautiful, artless--or perhaps artful, he could not decide which--eyes\nof Landau fixed upon him, Stepan Arkadyevitch began to be conscious of a\npeculiar heaviness in his head.\n\nThe most incongruous ideas were in confusion in his head. \"Marie Sanina\nis glad her child's dead.... How good a smoke would be now!... To be\nsaved, one need only believe, and the monks don't know how the thing's\nto be done, but Countess Lidia Ivanovna does know.... And why is my head\nso heavy? Is it the cognac, or all this being so queer? Anyway, I fancy\nI've done nothing unsuitable so far. But anyway, it won't do to ask her\nnow. They say they make one say one's prayers. I only hope they won't\nmake me! That'll be too imbecile. And what stuff it is she's reading!\nbut she has a good accent. Landau--Bezzubov--what's he Bezzubov for?\"\nAll at once Stepan Arkadyevitch became aware that his lower jaw was\nuncontrollably forming a yawn. He pulled his whiskers to cover the yawn,\nand shook himself together. But soon after he became aware that he was\ndropping asleep and on the very point of snoring. He recovered himself\nat the very moment when the voice of Countess Lidia Ivanovna was saying\n\"he's asleep.\" Stepan Arkadyevitch started with dismay, feeling guilty\nand caught. But he was reassured at once by seeing that the words \"he's\nasleep\" referred not to him, but to Landau. The Frenchman was asleep as\nwell as Stepan Arkadyevitch. But Stepan Arkadyevitch's being asleep\nwould have offended them, as he thought (though even this, he thought,\nmight not be so, as everything seemed so queer), while Landau's being\nasleep delighted them extremely, especially Countess Lidia Ivanovna.\n\n_\"Mon ami,\"_ said Lidia Ivanovna, carefully holding the folds of her\nsilk gown so as not to rustle, and in her excitement calling Karenin not\nAlexey Alexandrovitch, but _\"mon ami,\" \"donnez-lui la main. Vous voyez?\nSh!\"_ she hissed at the footman as he came in again. \"Not at home.\"\n\nThe Frenchman was asleep, or pretending to be asleep, with his head on\nthe back of his chair, and his moist hand, as it lay on his knee, made\nfaint movements, as though trying to catch something. Alexey\nAlexandrovitch got up, tried to move carefully, but stumbled against the\ntable, went up and laid his hand in the Frenchman's hand. Stepan\nArkadyevitch got up too, and opening his eyes wide, trying to wake\nhimself up if he were asleep, he looked first at one and then at the\nother. It was all real. Stepan Arkadyevitch felt that his head was\ngetting worse and worse.\n\n\"_Que la personne qui est arrivee la derniere, celle qui demande,\nqu'elle sorte! Qu'elle sorte!_\" articulated the Frenchman, without\nopening his eyes.\n\n\"_Vous m'excuserez, mais vous voyez.... Revenez vers dix heures, encore\nmieux demain._\"\n\n\"_Qu'elle sorte!_\" repeated the Frenchman impatiently.\n\n\"_C'est moi, n'est-ce pas?_\" And receiving an answer in the affirmative,\nStepan Arkadyevitch, forgetting the favor he had meant to ask of Lidia\nIvanovna, and forgetting his sister's affairs, caring for nothing, but\nfilled with the sole desire to get away as soon as possible, went out on\ntiptoe and ran out into the street as though from a plague-stricken\nhouse. For a long while he chatted and joked with his cab-driver, trying\nto recover his spirits.\n\nAt the French theater where he arrived for the last act, and afterwards\nat the Tatar restaurant after his champagne, Stepan Arkadyevitch felt a\nlittle refreshed in the atmosphere he was used to. But still he felt\nquite unlike himself all that evening.\n\nOn getting home to Pyotr Oblonsky's, where he was staying, Stepan\nArkadyevitch found a note from Betsy. She wrote to him that she was very\nanxious to finish their interrupted conversation, and begged him to come\nnext day. He had scarcely read this note, and frowned at its contents,\nwhen he heard below the ponderous tramp of the servants, carrying\nsomething heavy.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch went out to look. It was the rejuvenated Pyotr\nOblonsky. He was so drunk that he could not walk upstairs; but he told\nthem to set him on his legs when he saw Stepan Arkadyevitch, and\nclinging to him, walked with him into his room and there began telling\nhim how he had spent the evening, and fell asleep doing so.\n\nStepan Arkadyevitch was in very low spirits, which happened rarely with\nhim, and for a long while he could not go to sleep. Everything he could\nrecall to his mind, everything was disgusting; but most disgusting of\nall, as if it were something shameful, was the memory of the evening he\nhad spent at Countess Lidia Ivanovna's.\n\nNext day he received from Alexey Alexandrovitch a final answer, refusing\nto grant Anna's divorce, and he understood that this decision was based\non what the Frenchman had said in his real or pretended trance.\n\n\n\nChapter 23\n\n\nIn order to carry through any undertaking in family life, there must\nnecessarily be either complete division between the husband and wife, or\nloving agreement. When the relations of a couple are vacillating and\nneither one thing nor the other, no sort of enterprise can be\nundertaken.\n\nMany families remain for years in the same place, though both husband\nand wife are sick of it, simply because there is neither complete\ndivision nor agreement between them.\n\nBoth Vronsky and Anna felt life in Moscow insupportable in the heat and\ndust, when the spring sunshine was followed by the glare of summer, and\nall the trees in the boulevards had long since been in full leaf, and\nthe leaves were covered with dust. But they did not go back to\nVozdvizhenskoe, as they had arranged to do long before; they went on\nstaying in Moscow, though they both loathed it, because of late there\nhad been no agreement between them.\n\nThe irritability that kept them apart had no external cause, and all\nefforts to come to an understanding intensified it, instead of removing\nit. It was an inner irritation, grounded in her mind on the conviction\nthat his love had grown less; in his, on regret that he had put himself\nfor her sake in a difficult position, which she, instead of lightening,\nmade still more difficult. Neither of them gave full utterance to their\nsense of grievance, but they considered each other in the wrong, and\ntried on every pretext to prove this to one another.\n\nIn her eyes the whole of him, with all his habits, ideas, desires, with\nall his spiritual and physical temperament, was one thing--love for\nwomen, and that love, she felt, ought to be entirely concentrated on her\nalone. That love was less; consequently, as she reasoned, he must have\ntransferred part of his love to other women or to another woman--and she\nwas jealous. She was jealous not of any particular woman but of the\ndecrease of his love. Not having got an object for her jealousy, she was\non the lookout for it. At the slightest hint she transferred her\njealousy from one object to another. At one time she was jealous of\nthose low women with whom he might so easily renew his old bachelor\nties; then she was jealous of the society women he might meet; then she\nwas jealous of the imaginary girl whom he might want to marry, for whose\nsake he would break with her. And this last form of jealousy tortured\nher most of all, especially as he had unwarily told her, in a moment of\nfrankness, that his mother knew him so little that she had had the\naudacity to try and persuade him to marry the young Princess Sorokina.\n\nAnd being jealous of him, Anna was indignant against him and found\ngrounds for indignation in everything. For everything that was difficult\nin her position she blamed him. The agonizing condition of suspense she\nhad passed in Moscow, the tardiness and indecision of Alexey\nAlexandrovitch, her solitude--she put it all down to him. If he had\nloved her he would have seen all the bitterness of her position, and\nwould have rescued her from it. For her being in Moscow and not in the\ncountry, he was to blame too. He could not live buried in the country as\nshe would have liked to do. He must have society, and he had put her in\nthis awful position, the bitterness of which he would not see. And\nagain, it was his fault that she was forever separated from her son.\n\nEven the rare moments of tenderness that came from time to time did not\nsoothe her; in his tenderness now she saw a shade of complacency, of\nself-confidence, which had not been of old, and which exasperated her.\n\nIt was dusk. Anna was alone, and waiting for him to come back from a\nbachelor dinner. She walked up and down in his study (the room where the\nnoise from the street was least heard), and thought over every detail of\ntheir yesterday's quarrel. Going back from the well-remembered,\noffensive words of the quarrel to what had been the ground of it, she\narrived at last at its origin. For a long while she could hardly believe\nthat their dissension had arisen from a conversation so inoffensive, of\nso little moment to either. But so it actually had been. It all arose\nfrom his laughing at the girls' high schools, declaring they were\nuseless, while she defended them. He had spoken slightingly of women's\neducation in general, and had said that Hannah, Anna's English protegee,\nhad not the slightest need to know anything of physics.\n\nThis irritated Anna. She saw in this a contemptuous reference to her\noccupations. And she bethought her of a phrase to pay him back for the\npain he had given her. \"I don't expect you to understand me, my\nfeelings, as anyone who loved me might, but simple delicacy I did\nexpect,\" she said.\n\nAnd he had actually flushed with vexation, and had said something\nunpleasant. She could not recall her answer, but at that point, with an\nunmistakable desire to wound her too, he had said:\n\n\"I feel no interest in your infatuation over this girl, that's true,\nbecause I see it's unnatural.\"\n\nThe cruelty with which he shattered the world she had built up for\nherself so laboriously to enable her to endure her hard life, the\ninjustice with which he had accused her of affectation, of\nartificiality, aroused her.\n\n\"I am very sorry that nothing but what's coarse and material is\ncomprehensible and natural to you,\" she said and walked out of the room.\n\nWhen he had come in to her yesterday evening, they had not referred to\nthe quarrel, but both felt that the quarrel had been smoothed over, but\nwas not at an end.\n\nToday he had not been at home all day, and she felt so lonely and\nwretched in being on bad terms with him that she wanted to forget it\nall, to forgive him, and be reconciled with him; she wanted to throw the\nblame on herself and to justify him.\n\n\"I am myself to blame. I'm irritable, I'm insanely jealous. I will make\nit up with him, and we'll go away to the country; there I shall be more\nat peace.\"\n\n\"Unnatural!\" She suddenly recalled the word that had stung her most of\nall, not so much the word itself as the intent to wound her with which\nit was said. \"I know what he meant; he meant--unnatural, not loving my\nown daughter, to love another person's child. What does he know of love\nfor children, of my love for Seryozha, whom I've sacrificed for him? But\nthat wish to wound me! No, he loves another woman, it must be so.\"\n\nAnd perceiving that, while trying to regain her peace of mind, she had\ngone round the same circle that she had been round so often before, and\nhad come back to her former state of exasperation, she was horrified at\nherself. \"Can it be impossible? Can it be beyond me to control myself?\"\nshe said to herself, and began again from the beginning. \"He's truthful,\nhe's honest, he loves me. I love him, and in a few days the divorce will\ncome. What more do I want? I want peace of mind and trust, and I will\ntake the blame on myself. Yes, now when he comes in, I will tell him I\nwas wrong, though I was not wrong, and we will go away tomorrow.\"\n\nAnd to escape thinking any more, and being overcome by irritability, she\nrang, and ordered the boxes to be brought up for packing their things\nfor the country.\n\nAt ten o'clock Vronsky came in.\n\n\n\nChapter 24\n\n\n\"Well, was it nice?\" she asked, coming out to meet him with a penitent\nand meek expression.\n\n\"Just as usual,\" he answered, seeing at a glance that she was in one of\nher good moods. He was used by now to these transitions, and he was\nparticularly glad to see it today, as he was in a specially good humor\nhimself.\n\n\"What do I see? Come, that's good!\" he said, pointing to the boxes in\nthe passage.\n\n\"Yes, we must go. I went out for a drive, and it was so fine I longed to\nbe in the country. There's nothing to keep you, is there?\"\n\n\"It's the one thing I desire. I'll be back directly, and we'll talk it\nover; I only want to change my coat. Order some tea.\"\n\nAnd he went into his room.\n\nThere was something mortifying in the way he had said \"Come, that's\ngood,\" as one says to a child when it leaves off being naughty, and\nstill more mortifying was the contrast between her penitent and his\nself-confident tone; and for one instant she felt the lust of strife\nrising up in her again, but making an effort she conquered it, and met\nVronsky as good-humoredly as before.\n\nWhen he came in she told him, partly repeating phrases she had prepared\nbeforehand, how she had spent the day, and her plans for going away.\n\n\"You know it came to me almost like an inspiration,\" she said. \"Why wait\nhere for the divorce? Won't it be just the same in the country? I can't\nwait any longer! I don't want to go on hoping, I don't want to hear\nanything about the divorce. I have made up my mind it shall not have any\nmore influence on my life. Do you agree?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" he said, glancing uneasily at her excited face.\n\n\"What did you do? Who was there?\" she said, after a pause.\n\nVronsky mentioned the names of the guests. \"The dinner was first rate,\nand the boat race, and it was all pleasant enough, but in Moscow they\ncan never do anything without something _ridicule_. A lady of a sort\nappeared on the scene, teacher of swimming to the Queen of Sweden, and\ngave us an exhibition of her skill.\"\n\n\"How? did she swim?\" asked Anna, frowning.\n\n\"In an absurd red _costume de natation;_ she was old and hideous too. So\nwhen shall we go?\"\n\n\"What an absurd fancy! Why, did she swim in some special way, then?\"\nsaid Anna, not answering.\n\n\"There was absolutely nothing in it. That's just what I say, it was\nawfully stupid. Well, then, when do you think of going?\"\n\nAnna shook her head as though trying to drive away some unpleasant idea.\n\n\"When? Why, the sooner the better! By tomorrow we shan't be ready. The\nday after tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Yes ... oh, no, wait a minute! The day after tomorrow's Sunday, I have\nto be at maman's,\" said Vronsky, embarrassed, because as soon as he\nuttered his mother's name he was aware of her intent, suspicious eyes.\nHis embarrassment confirmed her suspicion. She flushed hotly and drew\naway from him. It was now not the Queen of Sweden's swimming-mistress\nwho filled Anna's imagination, but the young Princess Sorokina. She was\nstaying in a village near Moscow with Countess Vronskaya.\n\n\"Can't you go tomorrow?\" she said.\n\n\"Well, no! The deeds and the money for the business I'm going there for\nI can't get by tomorrow,\" he answered.\n\n\"If so, we won't go at all.\"\n\n\"But why so?\"\n\n\"I shall not go later. Monday or never!\"\n\n\"What for?\" said Vronsky, as though in amazement. \"Why, there's no\nmeaning in it!\"\n\n\"There's no meaning in it to you, because you care nothing for me. You\ndon't care to understand my life. The one thing that I cared for here\nwas Hannah. You say it's affectation. Why, you said yesterday that I\ndon't love my daughter, that I love this English girl, that it's\nunnatural. I should like to know what life there is for me that could be\nnatural!\"\n\nFor an instant she had a clear vision of what she was doing, and was\nhorrified at how she had fallen away from her resolution. But even\nthough she knew it was her own ruin, she could not restrain herself,\ncould not keep herself from proving to him that he was wrong, could not\ngive way to him.\n\n\"I never said that; I said I did not sympathize with this sudden\npassion.\"\n\n\"How is it, though you boast of your straightforwardness, you don't tell\nthe truth?\"\n\n\"I never boast, and I never tell lies,\" he said slowly, restraining his\nrising anger. \"It's a great pity if you can't respect...\"\n\n\"Respect was invented to cover the empty place where love should be. And\nif you don't love me any more, it would be better and more honest to say\nso.\"\n\n\"No, this is becoming unbearable!\" cried Vronsky, getting up from his\nchair; and stopping short, facing her, he said, speaking deliberately:\n\"What do you try my patience for?\" looking as though he might have said\nmuch more, but was restraining himself. \"It has limits.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by that?\" she cried, looking with terror at the\nundisguised hatred in his whole face, and especially in his cruel,\nmenacing eyes.\n\n\"I mean to say...\" he was beginning, but he checked himself. \"I must ask\nwhat it is you want of me?\"\n\n\"What can I want? All I can want is that you should not desert me, as\nyou think of doing,\" she said, understanding all he had not uttered.\n\"But that I don't want; that's secondary. I want love, and there is\nnone. So then all is over.\"\n\nShe turned towards the door.\n\n\"Stop! sto-op!\" said Vronsky, with no change in the gloomy lines of his\nbrows, though he held her by the hand. \"What is it all about? I said\nthat we must put off going for three days, and on that you told me I was\nlying, that I was not an honorable man.\"\n\n\"Yes, and I repeat that the man who reproaches me with having sacrificed\neverything for me,\" she said, recalling the words of a still earlier\nquarrel, \"that he's worse than a dishonorable man--he's a heartless\nman.\"\n\n\"Oh, there are limits to endurance!\" he cried, and hastily let go her\nhand.\n\n\"He hates me, that's clear,\" she thought, and in silence, without\nlooking round, she walked with faltering steps out of the room. \"He\nloves another woman, that's even clearer,\" she said to herself as she\nwent into her own room. \"I want love, and there is none. So, then, all\nis over.\" She repeated the words she had said, \"and it must be ended.\"\n\n\"But how?\" she asked herself, and she sat down in a low chair before the\nlooking glass.\n\nThoughts of where she would go now, whether to the aunt who had brought\nher up, to Dolly, or simply alone abroad, and of what _he_ was doing now\nalone in his study; whether this was the final quarrel, or whether\nreconciliation were still possible; and of what all her old friends at\nPetersburg would say of her now; and of how Alexey Alexandrovitch would\nlook at it, and many other ideas of what would happen now after this\nrupture, came into her head; but she did not give herself up to them\nwith all her heart. At the bottom of her heart was some obscure idea\nthat alone interested her, but she could not get clear sight of it.\nThinking once more of Alexey Alexandrovitch, she recalled the time of\nher illness after her confinement, and the feeling which never left her\nat that time. \"Why didn't I die?\" and the words and the feeling of that\ntime came back to her. And all at once she knew what was in her soul.\nYes, it was that idea which alone solved all. \"Yes, to die!... And the\nshame and disgrace of Alexey Alexandrovitch and of Seryozha, and my\nawful shame, it will all be saved by death. To die! and he will feel\nremorse; will be sorry; will love me; he will suffer on my account.\"\nWith the trace of a smile of commiseration for herself she sat down in\nthe armchair, taking off and putting on the rings on her left hand,\nvividly picturing from different sides his feelings after her death.\n\nApproaching footsteps--his steps--distracted her attention. As though\nabsorbed in the arrangement of her rings, she did not even turn to him.\n\nHe went up to her, and taking her by the hand, said softly:\n\n\"Anna, we'll go the day after tomorrow, if you like. I agree to\neverything.\"\n\nShe did not speak.\n\n\"What is it?\" he urged.\n\n\"You know,\" she said, and at the same instant, unable to restrain\nherself any longer, she burst into sobs.\n\n\"Cast me off!\" she articulated between her sobs. \"I'll go away tomorrow\n... I'll do more. What am I? An immoral woman! A stone round your neck.\nI don't want to make you wretched, I don't want to! I'll set you free.\nYou don't love me; you love someone else!\"\n\nVronsky besought her to be calm, and declared that there was no trace of\nfoundation for her jealousy; that he had never ceased, and never would\ncease, to love her; that he loved her more than ever.\n\n\"Anna, why distress yourself and me so?\" he said to her, kissing her\nhands. There was tenderness now in his face, and she fancied she caught\nthe sound of tears in his voice, and she felt them wet on her hand. And\ninstantly Anna's despairing jealousy changed to a despairing passion of\ntenderness. She put her arms round him, and covered with kisses his\nhead, his neck, his hands.\n\n\n\nChapter 25\n\n\nFeeling that the reconciliation was complete, Anna set eagerly to work\nin the morning preparing for their departure. Though it was not settled\nwhether they should go on Monday or Tuesday, as they had each given way\nto the other, Anna packed busily, feeling absolutely indifferent whether\nthey went a day earlier or later. She was standing in her room over an\nopen box, taking things out of it, when he came in to see her earlier\nthan usual, dressed to go out.\n\n\"I'm going off at once to see maman; she can send me the money by\nYegorov. And I shall be ready to go tomorrow,\" he said.\n\nThough she was in such a good mood, the thought of his visit to his\nmother's gave her a pang.\n\n\"No, I shan't be ready by then myself,\" she said; and at once reflected,\n\"so then it was possible to arrange to do as I wished.\" \"No, do as you\nmeant to do. Go into the dining room, I'm coming directly. It's only to\nturn out those things that aren't wanted,\" she said, putting something\nmore on the heap of frippery that lay in Annushka's arms.\n\nVronsky was eating his beefsteak when she came into the dining-room.\n\n\"You wouldn't believe how distasteful these rooms have become to me,\"\nshe said, sitting down beside him to her coffee. \"There's nothing more\nawful than these _chambres garnies_. There's no individuality in them,\nno soul. These clocks, and curtains, and, worst of all, the\nwallpapers--they're a nightmare. I think of Vozdvizhenskoe as the\npromised land. You're not sending the horses off yet?\"\n\n\"No, they will come after us. Where are you going to?\"\n\n\"I wanted to go to Wilson's to take some dresses to her. So it's really\nto be tomorrow?\" she said in a cheerful voice; but suddenly her face\nchanged.\n\nVronsky's valet came in to ask him to sign a receipt for a telegram from\nPetersburg. There was nothing out of the way in Vronsky's getting a\ntelegram, but he said, as though anxious to conceal something from her,\nthat the receipt was in his study, and he turned hurriedly to her.\n\n\"By tomorrow, without fail, I will finish it all.\"\n\n\"From whom is the telegram?\" she asked, not hearing him.\n\n\"From Stiva,\" he answered reluctantly.\n\n\"Why didn't you show it to me? What secret can there be between Stiva\nand me?\"\n\nVronsky called the valet back, and told him to bring the telegram.\n\n\"I didn't want to show it to you, because Stiva has such a passion for\ntelegraphing: why telegraph when nothing is settled?\"\n\n\"About the divorce?\"\n\n\"Yes; but he says he has not been able to come at anything yet. He has\npromised a decisive answer in a day or two. But here it is; read it.\"\n\nWith trembling hands Anna took the telegram, and read what Vronsky had\ntold her. At the end was added: \"Little hope; but I will do everything\npossible and impossible.\"\n\n\"I said yesterday that it's absolutely nothing to me when I get, or\nwhether I never get, a divorce,\" she said, flushing crimson. \"There was\nnot the slightest necessity to hide it from me.\" \"So he may hide and\ndoes hide his correspondence with women from me,\" she thought.\n\n\"Yashvin meant to come this morning with Voytov,\" said Vronsky; \"I\nbelieve he's won from Pyevtsov all and more than he can pay, about sixty\nthousand.\"\n\n\"No,\" she said, irritated by his so obviously showing by this change of\nsubject that he was irritated, \"why did you suppose that this news would\naffect me so, that you must even try to hide it? I said I don't want to\nconsider it, and I should have liked you to care as little about it as I\ndo.\"\n\n\"I care about it because I like definiteness,\" he said.\n\n\"Definiteness is not in the form but the love,\" she said, more and more\nirritated, not by his words, but by the tone of cool composure in which\nhe spoke. \"What do you want it for?\"\n\n\"My God! love again,\" he thought, frowning.\n\n\"Oh, you know what for; for your sake and your children's in the\nfuture.\"\n\n\"There won't be children in the future.\"\n\n\"That's a great pity,\" he said.\n\n\"You want it for the children's sake, but you don't think of me?\" she\nsaid, quite forgetting or not having heard that he had said, \"_for your\nsake_ and the children's.\"\n\nThe question of the possibility of having children had long been a\nsubject of dispute and irritation to her. His desire to have children\nshe interpreted as a proof he did not prize her beauty.\n\n\"Oh, I said: for your sake. Above all for your sake,\" he repeated,\nfrowning as though in pain, \"because I am certain that the greater part\nof your irritability comes from the indefiniteness of the position.\"\n\n\"Yes, now he has laid aside all pretense, and all his cold hatred for me\nis apparent,\" she thought, not hearing his words, but watching with\nterror the cold, cruel judge who looked mocking her out of his eyes.\n\n\"The cause is not that,\" she said, \"and, indeed, I don't see how the\ncause of my irritability, as you call it, can be that I am completely in\nyour power. What indefiniteness is there in the position? on the\ncontrary...\"\n\n\"I am very sorry that you don't care to understand,\" he interrupted,\nobstinately anxious to give utterance to his thought. \"The\nindefiniteness consists in your imagining that I am free.\"\n\n\"On that score you can set your mind quite at rest,\" she said, and\nturning away from him, she began drinking her coffee.\n\nShe lifted her cup, with her little finger held apart, and put it to her\nlips. After drinking a few sips she glanced at him, and by his\nexpression, she saw clearly that he was repelled by her hand, and her\ngesture, and the sound made by her lips.\n\n\"I don't care in the least what your mother thinks, and what match she\nwants to make for you,\" she said, putting the cup down with a shaking\nhand.\n\n\"But we are not talking about that.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's just what we are talking about. And let me tell you that a\nheartless woman, whether she's old or not old, your mother or anyone\nelse, is of no consequence to me, and I would not consent to know her.\"\n\n\"Anna, I beg you not to speak disrespectfully of my mother.\"\n\n\"A woman whose heart does not tell her where her son's happiness and\nhonor lie has no heart.\"\n\n\"I repeat my request that you will not speak disrespectfully of my\nmother, whom I respect,\" he said, raising his voice and looking sternly\nat her.\n\nShe did not answer. Looking intently at him, at his face, his hands, she\nrecalled all the details of their reconciliation the previous day, and\nhis passionate caresses. \"There, just such caresses he has lavished, and\nwill lavish, and longs to lavish on other women!\" she thought.\n\n\"You don't love your mother. That's all talk, and talk, and talk!\" she\nsaid, looking at him with hatred in her eyes.\n\n\"Even if so, you must...\"\n\n\"Must decide, and I have decided,\" she said, and she would have gone\naway, but at that moment Yashvin walked into the room. Anna greeted him\nand remained.\n\nWhy, when there was a tempest in her soul, and she felt she was standing\nat a turning point in her life, which might have fearful\nconsequences--why, at that minute, she had to keep up appearances before\nan outsider, who sooner or later must know it all--she did not know. But\nat once quelling the storm within her, she sat down and began talking to\ntheir guest.\n\n\"Well, how are you getting on? Has your debt been paid you?\" she asked\nYashvin.\n\n\"Oh, pretty fair; I fancy I shan't get it all, but I shall get a good\nhalf. And when are you off?\" said Yashvin, looking at Vronsky, and\nunmistakably guessing at a quarrel.\n\n\"The day after tomorrow, I think,\" said Vronsky.\n\n\"You've been meaning to go so long, though.\"\n\n\"But now it's quite decided,\" said Anna, looking Vronsky straight in the\nface with a look which told him not to dream of the possibility of\nreconciliation.\n\n\"Don't you feel sorry for that unlucky Pyevtsov?\" she went on, talking\nto Yashvin.\n\n\"I've never asked myself the question, Anna Arkadyevna, whether I'm\nsorry for him or not. You see, all my fortune's here\"--he touched his\nbreast pocket--\"and just now I'm a wealthy man. But today I'm going to\nthe club, and I may come out a beggar. You see, whoever sits down to\nplay with me--he wants to leave me without a shirt to my back, and so do\nI him. And so we fight it out, and that's the pleasure of it.\"\n\n\"Well, but suppose you were married,\" said Anna, \"how would it be for\nyour wife?\"\n\nYashvin laughed.\n\n\"That's why I'm not married, and never mean to be.\"\n\n\"And Helsingfors?\" said Vronsky, entering into the conversation and\nglancing at Anna's smiling face. Meeting his eyes, Anna's face instantly\ntook a coldly severe expression as though she were saying to him: \"It's\nnot forgotten. It's all the same.\"\n\n\"Were you really in love?\" she said to Yashvin.\n\n\"Oh heavens! ever so many times! But you see, some men can play but only\nso that they can always lay down their cards when the hour of a\n_rendezvous_ comes, while I can take up love, but only so as not to be\nlate for my cards in the evening. That's how I manage things.\"\n\n\"No, I didn't mean that, but the real thing.\" She would have said\n_Helsingfors_, but would not repeat the word used by Vronsky.\n\nVoytov, who was buying the horse, came in. Anna got up and went out of\nthe room.\n\nBefore leaving the house, Vronsky went into her room. She would have\npretended to be looking for something on the table, but ashamed of\nmaking a pretense, she looked straight in his face with cold eyes.\n\n\"What do you want?\" she asked in French.\n\n\"To get the guarantee for Gambetta, I've sold him,\" he said, in a tone\nwhich said more clearly than words, \"I've no time for discussing things,\nand it would lead to nothing.\"\n\n\"I'm not to blame in any way,\" he thought. \"If she will punish herself,\n_tant pis pour elle._\" But as he was going he fancied that she said\nsomething, and his heart suddenly ached with pity for her.\n\n\"Eh, Anna?\" he queried.\n\n\"I said nothing,\" she answered just as coldly and calmly.\n\n\"Oh, nothing, _tant pis_ then,\" he thought, feeling cold again, and he\nturned and went out. As he was going out he caught a glimpse in the\nlooking glass of her face, white, with quivering lips. He even wanted to\nstop and to say some comforting word to her, but his legs carried him\nout of the room before he could think what to say. The whole of that day\nhe spent away from home, and when he came in late in the evening the\nmaid told him that Anna Arkadyevna had a headache and begged him not to\ngo in to her.\n\n\n\nChapter 26\n\n\nNever before had a day been passed in quarrel. Today was the first time.\nAnd this was not a quarrel. It was the open acknowledgment of complete\ncoldness. Was it possible to glance at her as he had glanced when he\ncame into the room for the guarantee?--to look at her, see her heart was\nbreaking with despair, and go out without a word with that face of\ncallous composure? He was not merely cold to her, he hated her because\nhe loved another woman--that was clear.\n\nAnd remembering all the cruel words he had said, Anna supplied, too, the\nwords that he had unmistakably wished to say and could have said to her,\nand she grew more and more exasperated.\n\n\"I won't prevent you,\" he might say. \"You can go where you like. You\nwere unwilling to be divorced from your husband, no doubt so that you\nmight go back to him. Go back to him. If you want money, I'll give it to\nyou. How many roubles do you want?\"\n\nAll the most cruel words that a brutal man could say, he said to her in\nher imagination, and she could not forgive him for them, as though he\nhad actually said them.\n\n\"But didn't he only yesterday swear he loved me, he, a truthful and\nsincere man? Haven't I despaired for nothing many times already?\" she\nsaid to herself afterwards.\n\nAll that day, except for the visit to Wilson's, which occupied two\nhours, Anna spent in doubts whether everything were over or whether\nthere were still hope of reconciliation, whether she should go away at\nonce or see him once more. She was expecting him the whole day, and in\nthe evening, as she went to her own room, leaving a message for him that\nher head ached, she said to herself, \"If he comes in spite of what the\nmaid says, it means that he loves me still. If not, it means that all is\nover, and then I will decide what I'm to do!...\"\n\nIn the evening she heard the rumbling of his carriage stop at the\nentrance, his ring, his steps and his conversation with the servant; he\nbelieved what was told him, did not care to find out more, and went to\nhis own room. So then everything was over.\n\nAnd death rose clearly and vividly before her mind as the sole means of\nbringing back love for her in his heart, of punishing him and of gaining\nthe victory in that strife which the evil spirit in possession of her\nheart was waging with him.\n\nNow nothing mattered: going or not going to Vozdvizhenskoe, getting or\nnot getting a divorce from her husband--all that did not matter. The one\nthing that mattered was punishing him. When she poured herself out her\nusual dose of opium, and thought that she had only to drink off the\nwhole bottle to die, it seemed to her so simple and easy, that she began\nmusing with enjoyment on how he would suffer, and repent and love her\nmemory when it would be too late. She lay in bed with open eyes, by the\nlight of a single burned-down candle, gazing at the carved cornice of\nthe ceiling and at the shadow of the screen that covered part of it,\nwhile she vividly pictured to herself how he would feel when she would\nbe no more, when she would be only a memory to him. \"How could I say\nsuch cruel things to her?\" he would say. \"How could I go out of the room\nwithout saying anything to her? But now she is no more. She has gone\naway from us forever. She is....\" Suddenly the shadow of the screen\nwavered, pounced on the whole cornice, the whole ceiling; other shadows\nfrom the other side swooped to meet it, for an instant the shadows\nflitted back, but then with fresh swiftness they darted forward,\nwavered, commingled, and all was darkness. \"Death!\" she thought. And\nsuch horror came upon her that for a long while she could not realize\nwhere she was, and for a long while her trembling hands could not find\nthe matches and light another candle, instead of the one that had burned\ndown and gone out. \"No, anything--only to live! Why, I love him! Why, he\nloves me! This has been before and will pass,\" she said, feeling that\ntears of joy at the return to life were trickling down her cheeks. And\nto escape from her panic she went hurriedly to his room.\n\nHe was asleep there, and sleeping soundly. She went up to him, and\nholding the light above his face, she gazed a long while at him. Now\nwhen he was asleep, she loved him so that at the sight of him she could\nnot keep back tears of tenderness. But she knew that if he waked up he\nwould look at her with cold eyes, convinced that he was right, and that\nbefore telling him of her love, she would have to prove to him that he\nhad been wrong in his treatment of her. Without waking him, she went\nback, and after a second dose of opium she fell towards morning into a\nheavy, incomplete sleep, during which she never quite lost\nconsciousness.\n\nIn the morning she was waked by a horrible nightmare, which had recurred\nseveral times in her dreams, even before her connection with Vronsky. A\nlittle old man with unkempt beard was doing something bent down over\nsome iron, muttering meaningless French words, and she, as she always\ndid in this nightmare (it was what made the horror of it), felt that\nthis peasant was taking no notice of her, but was doing something\nhorrible with the iron--over her. And she waked up in a cold sweat.\n\nWhen she got up, the previous day came back to her as though veiled in\nmist.\n\n\"There was a quarrel. Just what has happened several times. I said I had\na headache, and he did not come in to see me. Tomorrow we're going away;\nI must see him and get ready for the journey,\" she said to herself. And\nlearning that he was in his study, she went down to him. As she passed\nthrough the drawing room she heard a carriage stop at the entrance, and\nlooking out of the window she saw the carriage, from which a young girl\nin a lilac hat was leaning out giving some direction to the footman\nringing the bell. After a parley in the hall, someone came upstairs, and\nVronsky's steps could be heard passing the drawing room. He went rapidly\ndownstairs. Anna went again to the window. She saw him come out onto the\nsteps without his hat and go up to the carriage. The young girl in the\nlilac hat handed him a parcel. Vronsky, smiling, said something to her.\nThe carriage drove away, he ran rapidly upstairs again.\n\nThe mists that had shrouded everything in her soul parted suddenly. The\nfeelings of yesterday pierced the sick heart with a fresh pang. She\ncould not understand now how she could have lowered herself by spending\na whole day with him in his house. She went into his room to announce\nher determination.\n\n\"That was Madame Sorokina and her daughter. They came and brought me the\nmoney and the deeds from maman. I couldn't get them yesterday. How is\nyour head, better?\" he said quietly, not wishing to see and to\nunderstand the gloomy and solemn expression of her face.\n\nShe looked silently, intently at him, standing in the middle of the\nroom. He glanced at her, frowned for a moment, and went on reading a\nletter. She turned, and went deliberately out of the room. He still\nmight have turned her back, but she had reached the door, he was still\nsilent, and the only sound audible was the rustling of the note paper as\nhe turned it.\n\n\"Oh, by the way,\" he said at the very moment she was in the doorway,\n\"we're going tomorrow for certain, aren't we?\"\n\n\"You, but not I,\" she said, turning round to him.\n\n\"Anna, we can't go on like this...\"\n\n\"You, but not I,\" she repeated.\n\n\"This is getting unbearable!\"\n\n\"You ... you will be sorry for this,\" she said, and went out.\n\nFrightened by the desperate expression with which these words were\nuttered, he jumped up and would have run after her, but on second\nthoughts he sat down and scowled, setting his teeth. This vulgar--as he\nthought it--threat of something vague exasperated him. \"I've tried\neverything,\" he thought; \"the only thing left is not to pay attention,\"\nand he began to get ready to drive into town, and again to his mother's\nto get her signature to the deeds.\n\nShe heard the sound of his steps about the study and the dining room. At\nthe drawing room he stood still. But he did not turn in to see her, he\nmerely gave an order that the horse should be given to Voytov if he came\nwhile he was away. Then she heard the carriage brought round, the door\nopened, and he came out again. But he went back into the porch again,\nand someone was running upstairs. It was the valet running up for his\ngloves that had been forgotten. She went to the window and saw him take\nthe gloves without looking, and touching the coachman on the back he\nsaid something to him. Then without looking up at the window he settled\nhimself in his usual attitude in the carriage, with his legs crossed,\nand drawing on his gloves he vanished round the corner.\n\n\n\nChapter 27\n\n\n\"He has gone! It is over!\" Anna said to herself, standing at the window;\nand in answer to this statement the impression of the darkness when the\ncandle had flickered out, and of her fearful dream mingling into one,\nfilled her heart with cold terror.\n\n\"No, that cannot be!\" she cried, and crossing the room she rang the\nbell. She was so afraid now of being alone, that without waiting for the\nservant to come in, she went out to meet him.\n\n\"Inquire where the count has gone,\" she said. The servant answered that\nthe count had gone to the stable.\n\n\"His honor left word that if you cared to drive out, the carriage would\nbe back immediately.\"\n\n\"Very good. Wait a minute. I'll write a note at once. Send Mihail with\nthe note to the stables. Make haste.\"\n\nShe sat down and wrote:\n\n\"I was wrong. Come back home; I must explain. For God's sake come! I'm\nafraid.\"\n\nShe sealed it up and gave it to the servant.\n\nShe was afraid of being left alone now; she followed the servant out of\nthe room, and went to the nursery.\n\n\"Why, this isn't it, this isn't he! Where are his blue eyes, his sweet,\nshy smile?\" was her first thought when she saw her chubby, rosy little\ngirl with her black, curly hair instead of Seryozha, whom in the tangle\nof her ideas she had expected to see in the nursery. The little girl\nsitting at the table was obstinately and violently battering on it with\na cork, and staring aimlessly at her mother with her pitch-black eyes.\nAnswering the English nurse that she was quite well, and that she was\ngoing to the country tomorrow, Anna sat down by the little girl and\nbegan spinning the cork to show her. But the child's loud, ringing\nlaugh, and the motion of her eyebrows, recalled Vronsky so vividly that\nshe got up hurriedly, restraining her sobs, and went away. \"Can it be\nall over? No, it cannot be!\" she thought. \"He will come back. But how\ncan he explain that smile, that excitement after he had been talking to\nher? But even if he doesn't explain, I will believe. If I don't believe,\nthere's only one thing left for me, and I can't.\"\n\nShe looked at her watch. Twenty minutes had passed. \"By now he has\nreceived the note and is coming back. Not long, ten minutes more.... But\nwhat if he doesn't come? No, that cannot be. He mustn't see me with\ntear-stained eyes. I'll go and wash. Yes, yes; did I do my hair or not?\"\nshe asked herself. And she could not remember. She felt her head with\nher hand. \"Yes, my hair has been done, but when I did it I can't in the\nleast remember.\" She could not believe the evidence of her hand, and\nwent up to the pier glass to see whether she really had done her hair.\nShe certainly had, but she could not think when she had done it. \"Who's\nthat?\" she thought, looking in the looking glass at the swollen face\nwith strangely glittering eyes, that looked in a scared way at her.\n\"Why, it's I!\" she suddenly understood, and looking round, she seemed\nall at once to feel his kisses on her, and twitched her shoulders,\nshuddering. Then she lifted her hand to her lips and kissed it.\n\n\"What is it? Why, I'm going out of my mind!\" and she went into her\nbedroom, where Annushka was tidying the room.\n\n\"Annushka,\" she said, coming to a standstill before her, and she stared\nat the maid, not knowing what to say to her.\n\n\"You meant to go and see Darya Alexandrovna,\" said the girl, as though\nshe understood.\n\n\"Darya Alexandrovna? Yes, I'll go.\"\n\n\"Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back. He's coming, he'll be here\nsoon.\" She took out her watch and looked at it. \"But how could he go\naway, leaving me in such a state? How can he live, without making it up\nwith me?\" She went to the window and began looking into the street.\nJudging by the time, he might be back now. But her calculations might be\nwrong, and she began once more to recall when he had started and to\ncount the minutes.\n\nAt the moment when she had moved away to the big clock to compare it\nwith her watch, someone drove up. Glancing out of the window, she saw\nhis carriage. But no one came upstairs, and voices could be heard below.\nIt was the messenger who had come back in the carriage. She went down to\nhim.\n\n\"We didn't catch the count. The count had driven off on the lower city\nroad.\"\n\n\"What do you say? What!...\" she said to the rosy, good-humored Mihail,\nas he handed her back her note.\n\n\"Why, then, he has never received it!\" she thought.\n\n\"Go with this note to Countess Vronskaya's place, you know? and bring an\nanswer back immediately,\" she said to the messenger.\n\n\"And I, what am I going to do?\" she thought. \"Yes, I'm going to Dolly's,\nthat's true or else I shall go out of my mind. Yes, and I can telegraph,\ntoo.\" And she wrote a telegram. \"I absolutely must talk to you; come at\nonce.\" After sending off the telegram, she went to dress. When she was\ndressed and in her hat, she glanced again into the eyes of the plump,\ncomfortable-looking Annushka. There was unmistakable sympathy in those\ngood-natured little gray eyes.\n\n\"Annushka, dear, what am I to do?\" said Anna, sobbing and sinking\nhelplessly into a chair.\n\n\"Why fret yourself so, Anna Arkadyevna? Why, there's nothing out of the\nway. You drive out a little, and it'll cheer you up,\" said the maid.\n\n\"Yes, I'm going,\" said Anna, rousing herself and getting up. \"And if\nthere's a telegram while I'm away, send it on to Darya Alexandrovna's\n... but no, I shall be back myself.\"\n\n\"Yes, I mustn't think, I must do something, drive somewhere, and most of\nall, get out of this house,\" she said, feeling with terror the strange\nturmoil going on in her own heart, and she made haste to go out and get\ninto the carriage.\n\n\"Where to?\" asked Pyotr before getting onto the box.\n\n\"To Znamenka, the Oblonskys'.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 28\n\n\nIt was bright and sunny. A fine rain had been falling all the morning,\nand now it had not long cleared up. The iron roofs, the flags of the\nroads, the flints of the pavements, the wheels and leather, the brass\nand the tinplate of the carriages--all glistened brightly in the May\nsunshine. It was three o'clock, and the very liveliest time in the\nstreets.\n\nAs she sat in a corner of the comfortable carriage, that hardly swayed\non its supple springs, while the grays trotted swiftly, in the midst of\nthe unceasing rattle of wheels and the changing impressions in the pure\nair, Anna ran over the events of the last days, and she saw her position\nquite differently from how it had seemed at home. Now the thought of\ndeath seemed no longer so terrible and so clear to her, and death itself\nno longer seemed so inevitable. Now she blamed herself for the\nhumiliation to which she had lowered herself. \"I entreat him to forgive\nme. I have given in to him. I have owned myself in fault. What for?\nCan't I live without him?\" And leaving unanswered the question how she\nwas going to live without him, she fell to reading the signs on the\nshops. \"Office and warehouse. Dental surgeon. Yes, I'll tell Dolly all\nabout it. She doesn't like Vronsky. I shall be sick and ashamed, but\nI'll tell her. She loves me, and I'll follow her advice. I won't give in\nto him; I won't let him train me as he pleases. Filippov, bun shop. They\nsay they send their dough to Petersburg. The Moscow water is so good for\nit. Ah, the springs at Mitishtchen, and the pancakes!\"\n\nAnd she remembered how, long, long ago, when she was a girl of\nseventeen, she had gone with her aunt to Troitsa. \"Riding, too. Was that\nreally me, with red hands? How much that seemed to me then splendid and\nout of reach has become worthless, while what I had then has gone out of\nmy reach forever! Could I ever have believed then that I could come to\nsuch humiliation? How conceited and self-satisfied he will be when he\ngets my note! But I will show him.... How horrid that paint smells! Why\nis it they're always painting and building? _Modes et robes,_\" she read.\nA man bowed to her. It was Annushka's husband. \"Our parasites\"; she\nremembered how Vronsky had said that. \"Our? Why our? What's so awful is\nthat one can't tear up the past by its roots. One can't tear it out, but\none can hide one's memory of it. And I'll hide it.\" And then she thought\nof her past with Alexey Alexandrovitch, of how she had blotted the\nmemory of it out of her life. \"Dolly will think I'm leaving my second\nhusband, and so I certainly must be in the wrong. As if I cared to be\nright! I can't help it!\" she said, and she wanted to cry. But at once\nshe fell to wondering what those two girls could be smiling about.\n\"Love, most likely. They don't know how dreary it is, how low.... The\nboulevard and the children. Three boys running, playing at horses.\nSeryozha! And I'm losing everything and not getting him back. Yes, I'm\nlosing everything, if he doesn't return. Perhaps he was late for the\ntrain and has come back by now. Longing for humiliation again!\" she said\nto herself. \"No, I'll go to Dolly, and say straight out to her, I'm\nunhappy, I deserve this, I'm to blame, but still I'm unhappy, help me.\nThese horses, this carriage--how loathsome I am to myself in this\ncarriage--all his; but I won't see them again.\"\n\nThinking over the words in which she would tell Dolly, and mentally\nworking her heart up to great bitterness, Anna went upstairs.\n\n\"Is there anyone with her?\" she asked in the hall.\n\n\"Katerina Alexandrovna Levin,\" answered the footman.\n\n\"Kitty! Kitty, whom Vronsky was in love with!\" thought Anna, \"the girl\nhe thinks of with love. He's sorry he didn't marry her. But me he thinks\nof with hatred, and is sorry he had anything to do with me.\"\n\nThe sisters were having a consultation about nursing when Anna called.\nDolly went down alone to see the visitor who had interrupted their\nconversation.\n\n\"Well, so you've not gone away yet? I meant to have come to you,\" she\nsaid; \"I had a letter from Stiva today.\"\n\n\"We had a telegram too,\" answered Anna, looking round for Kitty.\n\n\"He writes that he can't make out quite what Alexey Alexandrovitch\nwants, but he won't go away without a decisive answer.\"\n\n\"I thought you had someone with you. Can I see the letter?\"\n\n\"Yes; Kitty,\" said Dolly, embarrassed. \"She stayed in the nursery. She\nhas been very ill.\"\n\n\"So I heard. May I see the letter?\"\n\n\"I'll get it directly. But he doesn't refuse; on the contrary, Stiva has\nhopes,\" said Dolly, stopping in the doorway.\n\n\"I haven't, and indeed I don't wish it,\" said Anna.\n\n\"What's this? Does Kitty consider it degrading to meet me?\" thought Anna\nwhen she was alone. \"Perhaps she's right, too. But it's not for her, the\ngirl who was in love with Vronsky, it's not for her to show me that,\neven if it is true. I know that in my position I can't be received by\nany decent woman. I knew that from the first moment I sacrificed\neverything to him. And this is my reward! Oh, how I hate him! And what\ndid I come here for? I'm worse here, more miserable.\" She heard from the\nnext room the sisters' voices in consultation. \"And what am I going to\nsay to Dolly now? Amuse Kitty by the sight of my wretchedness, submit to\nher patronizing? No; and besides, Dolly wouldn't understand. And it\nwould be no good my telling her. It would only be interesting to see\nKitty, to show her how I despise everyone and everything, how nothing\nmatters to me now.\"\n\nDolly came in with the letter. Anna read it and handed it back in\nsilence.\n\n\"I knew all that,\" she said, \"and it doesn't interest me in the least.\"\n\n\"Oh, why so? On the contrary, I have hopes,\" said Dolly, looking\ninquisitively at Anna. She had never seen her in such a strangely\nirritable condition. \"When are you going away?\" she asked.\n\nAnna, half-closing her eyes, looked straight before her and did not\nanswer.\n\n\"Why does Kitty shrink from me?\" she said, looking at the door and\nflushing red.\n\n\"Oh, what nonsense! She's nursing, and things aren't going right with\nher, and I've been advising her.... She's delighted. She'll be here in a\nminute,\" said Dolly awkwardly, not clever at lying. \"Yes, here she is.\"\n\nHearing that Anna had called, Kitty had wanted not to appear, but Dolly\npersuaded her. Rallying her forces, Kitty went in, walked up to her,\nblushing, and shook hands.\n\n\"I am so glad to see you,\" she said with a trembling voice.\n\nKitty had been thrown into confusion by the inward conflict between her\nantagonism to this bad woman and her desire to be nice to her. But as\nsoon as she saw Anna's lovely and attractive face, all feeling of\nantagonism disappeared.\n\n\"I should not have been surprised if you had not cared to meet me. I'm\nused to everything. You have been ill? Yes, you are changed,\" said Anna.\n\nKitty felt that Anna was looking at her with hostile eyes. She ascribed\nthis hostility to the awkward position in which Anna, who had once\npatronized her, must feel with her now, and she felt sorry for her.\n\nThey talked of Kitty's illness, of the baby, of Stiva, but it was\nobvious that nothing interested Anna.\n\n\"I came to say good-bye to you,\" she said, getting up.\n\n\"Oh, when are you going?\"\n\nBut again not answering, Anna turned to Kitty.\n\n\"Yes, I am very glad to have seen you,\" she said with a smile. \"I have\nheard so much of you from everyone, even from your husband. He came to\nsee me, and I liked him exceedingly,\" she said, unmistakably with\nmalicious intent. \"Where is he?\"\n\n\"He has gone back to the country,\" said Kitty, blushing.\n\n\"Remember me to him, be sure you do.\"\n\n\"I'll be sure to!\" Kitty said naively, looking compassionately into her\neyes.\n\n\"So good-bye, Dolly.\" And kissing Dolly and shaking hands with Kitty,\nAnna went out hurriedly.\n\n\"She's just the same and just as charming! She's very lovely!\" said\nKitty, when she was alone with her sister. \"But there's something\npiteous about her. Awfully piteous!\"\n\n\"Yes, there's something unusual about her today,\" said Dolly. \"When I\nwent with her into the hall, I fancied she was almost crying.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 29\n\n\nAnna got into the carriage again in an even worse frame of mind than\nwhen she set out from home. To her previous tortures was added now that\nsense of mortification and of being an outcast which she had felt so\ndistinctly on meeting Kitty.\n\n\"Where to? Home?\" asked Pyotr.\n\n\"Yes, home,\" she said, not even thinking now where she was going.\n\n\"How they looked at me as something dreadful, incomprehensible, and\ncurious! What can he be telling the other with such warmth?\" she\nthought, staring at two men who walked by. \"Can one ever tell anyone\nwhat one is feeling? I meant to tell Dolly, and it's a good thing I\ndidn't tell her. How pleased she would have been at my misery! She would\nhave concealed it, but her chief feeling would have been delight at my\nbeing punished for the happiness she envied me for. Kitty, she would\nhave been even more pleased. How I can see through her! She knows I was\nmore than usually sweet to her husband. And she's jealous and hates me.\nAnd she despises me. In her eyes I'm an immoral woman. If I were an\nimmoral woman I could have made her husband fall in love with me ... if\nI'd cared to. And, indeed, I did care to. There's someone who's pleased\nwith himself,\" she thought, as she saw a fat, rubicund gentleman coming\ntowards her. He took her for an acquaintance, and lifted his glossy hat\nabove his bald, glossy head, and then perceived his mistake. \"He thought\nhe knew me. Well, he knows me as well as anyone in the world knows me. I\ndon't know myself. I know my appetites, as the French say. They want\nthat dirty ice cream, that they do know for certain,\" she thought,\nlooking at two boys stopping an ice cream seller, who took a barrel off\nhis head and began wiping his perspiring face with a towel. \"We all want\nwhat is sweet and nice. If not sweetmeats, then a dirty ice. And Kitty's\nthe same--if not Vronsky, then Levin. And she envies me, and hates me.\nAnd we all hate each other. I Kitty, Kitty me. Yes, that's the truth.\n'_Tiutkin, coiffeur._' _Je me fais coiffer par Tiutkin...._ I'll tell\nhim that when he comes,\" she thought and smiled. But the same instant\nshe remembered that she had no one now to tell anything amusing to. \"And\nthere's nothing amusing, nothing mirthful, really. It's all hateful.\nThey're singing for vespers, and how carefully that merchant crosses\nhimself! as if he were afraid of missing something. Why these churches\nand this singing and this humbug? Simply to conceal that we all hate\neach other like these cab drivers who are abusing each other so angrily.\nYashvin says, 'He wants to strip me of my shirt, and I him of his.' Yes,\nthat's the truth!\"\n\nShe was plunged in these thoughts, which so engrossed her that she left\noff thinking of her own position, when the carriage drew up at the steps\nof her house. It was only when she saw the porter running out to meet\nher that she remembered she had sent the note and the telegram.\n\n\"Is there an answer?\" she inquired.\n\n\"I'll see this minute,\" answered the porter, and glancing into his room,\nhe took out and gave her the thin square envelope of a telegram. \"I\ncan't come before ten o'clock.--Vronsky,\" she read.\n\n\"And hasn't the messenger come back?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered the porter.\n\n\"Then, since it's so, I know what I must do,\" she said, and feeling a\nvague fury and craving for revenge rising up within her, she ran\nupstairs. \"I'll go to him myself. Before going away forever, I'll tell\nhim all. Never have I hated anyone as I hate that man!\" she thought.\nSeeing his hat on the rack, she shuddered with aversion. She did not\nconsider that his telegram was an answer to her telegram and that he had\nnot yet received her note. She pictured him to herself as talking calmly\nto his mother and Princess Sorokina and rejoicing at her sufferings.\n\"Yes, I must go quickly,\" she said, not knowing yet where she was going.\nShe longed to get away as quickly as possible from the feelings she had\ngone through in that awful house. The servants, the walls, the things in\nthat house--all aroused repulsion and hatred in her and lay like a\nweight upon her.\n\n\"Yes, I must go to the railway station, and if he's not there, then go\nthere and catch him.\" Anna looked at the railway timetable in the\nnewspapers. An evening train went at two minutes past eight. \"Yes, I\nshall be in time.\" She gave orders for the other horses to be put in the\ncarriage, and packed in a traveling-bag the things needed for a few\ndays. She knew she would never come back here again.\n\nAmong the plans that came into her head she vaguely determined that\nafter what would happen at the station or at the countess's house, she\nwould go as far as the first town on the Nizhni road and stop there.\n\nDinner was on the table; she went up, but the smell of the bread and\ncheese was enough to make her feel that all food was disgusting. She\nordered the carriage and went out. The house threw a shadow now right\nacross the street, but it was a bright evening and still warm in the\nsunshine. Annushka, who came down with her things, and Pyotr, who put\nthe things in the carriage, and the coachman, evidently out of humor,\nwere all hateful to her, and irritated her by their words and actions.\n\n\"I don't want you, Pyotr.\"\n\n\"But how about the ticket?\"\n\n\"Well, as you like, it doesn't matter,\" she said crossly.\n\nPyotr jumped on the box, and putting his arms akimbo, told the coachman\nto drive to the booking-office.\n\n\n\nChapter 30\n\n\n\"Here it is again! Again I understand it all!\" Anna said to herself, as\nsoon as the carriage had started and swaying lightly, rumbled over the\ntiny cobbles of the paved road, and again one impression followed\nrapidly upon another.\n\n\"Yes; what was the last thing I thought of so clearly?\" she tried to\nrecall it. \"'_Tiutkin, coiffeur?_'--no, not that. Yes, of what Yashvin\nsays, the struggle for existence and hatred is the one thing that holds\nmen together. No, it's a useless journey you're making,\" she said,\nmentally addressing a party in a coach and four, evidently going for an\nexcursion into the country. \"And the dog you're taking with you will be\nno help to you. You can't get away from yourselves.\" Turning her eyes in\nthe direction Pyotr had turned to look, she saw a factory hand almost\ndead drunk, with hanging head, being led away by a policeman. \"Come,\nhe's found a quicker way,\" she thought. \"Count Vronsky and I did not\nfind that happiness either, though we expected so much from it.\" And now\nfor the first time Anna turned that glaring light in which she was\nseeing everything on to her relations with him, which she had hitherto\navoided thinking about. \"What was it he sought in me? Not love so much\nas the satisfaction of vanity.\" She remembered his words, the expression\nof his face, that recalled an abject setter-dog, in the early days of\ntheir connection. And everything now confirmed this. \"Yes, there was the\ntriumph of success in him. Of course there was love too, but the chief\nelement was the pride of success. He boasted of me. Now that's over.\nThere's nothing to be proud of. Not to be proud of, but to be ashamed\nof. He has taken from me all he could, and now I am no use to him. He is\nweary of me and is trying not to be dishonorable in his behavior to me.\nHe let that out yesterday--he wants divorce and marriage so as to burn\nhis ships. He loves me, but how? The zest is gone, as the English say.\nThat fellow wants everyone to admire him and is very much pleased with\nhimself,\" she thought, looking at a red-faced clerk, riding on a riding\nschool horse. \"Yes, there's not the same flavor about me for him now. If\nI go away from him, at the bottom of his heart he will be glad.\"\n\nThis was not mere supposition, she saw it distinctly in the piercing\nlight, which revealed to her now the meaning of life and human\nrelations.\n\n\"My love keeps growing more passionate and egoistic, while his is waning\nand waning, and that's why we're drifting apart.\" She went on musing.\n\"And there's no help for it. He is everything for me, and I want him\nmore and more to give himself up to me entirely. And he wants more and\nmore to get away from me. We walked to meet each other up to the time of\nour love, and then we have been irresistibly drifting in different\ndirections. And there's no altering that. He tells me I'm insanely\njealous, and I have told myself that I am insanely jealous; but it's not\ntrue. I'm not jealous, but I'm unsatisfied. But...\" she opened her lips,\nand shifted her place in the carriage in the excitement, aroused by the\nthought that suddenly struck her. \"If I could be anything but a\nmistress, passionately caring for nothing but his caresses; but I can't\nand I don't care to be anything else. And by that desire I rouse\naversion in him, and he rouses fury in me, and it cannot be different.\nDon't I know that he wouldn't deceive me, that he has no schemes about\nPrincess Sorokina, that he's not in love with Kitty, that he won't\ndesert me! I know all that, but it makes it no better for me. If without\nloving me, from _duty_ he'll be good and kind to me, without what I\nwant, that's a thousand times worse than unkindness! That's--hell! And\nthat's just how it is. For a long while now he hasn't loved me. And\nwhere love ends, hate begins. I don't know these streets at all. Hills\nit seems, and still houses, and houses .... And in the houses always\npeople and people.... How many of them, no end, and all hating each\nother! Come, let me try and think what I want, to make me happy. Well?\nSuppose I am divorced, and Alexey Alexandrovitch lets me have Seryozha,\nand I marry Vronsky.\" Thinking of Alexey Alexandrovitch, she at once\npictured him with extraordinary vividness as though he were alive before\nher, with his mild, lifeless, dull eyes, the blue veins in his white\nhands, his intonations and the cracking of his fingers, and remembering\nthe feeling which had existed between them, and which was also called\nlove, she shuddered with loathing. \"Well, I'm divorced, and become\nVronsky's wife. Well, will Kitty cease looking at me as she looked at me\ntoday? No. And will Seryozha leave off asking and wondering about my two\nhusbands? And is there any new feeling I can awaken between Vronsky and\nme? Is there possible, if not happiness, some sort of ease from misery?\nNo, no!\" she answered now without the slightest hesitation. \"Impossible!\nWe are drawn apart by life, and I make his unhappiness, and he mine, and\nthere's no altering him or me. Every attempt has been made, the screw\nhas come unscrewed. Oh, a beggar woman with a baby. She thinks I'm sorry\nfor her. Aren't we all flung into the world only to hate each other, and\nso to torture ourselves and each other? Schoolboys coming--laughing\nSeryozha?\" she thought. \"I thought, too, that I loved him, and used to\nbe touched by my own tenderness. But I have lived without him, I gave\nhim up for another love, and did not regret the exchange till that love\nwas satisfied.\" And with loathing she thought of what she meant by that\nlove. And the clearness with which she saw life now, her own and all\nmen's, was a pleasure to her. \"It's so with me and Pyotr, and the\ncoachman, Fyodor, and that merchant, and all the people living along the\nVolga, where those placards invite one to go, and everywhere and\nalways,\" she thought when she had driven under the low-pitched roof of\nthe Nizhigorod station, and the porters ran to meet her.\n\n\"A ticket to Obiralovka?\" said Pyotr.\n\nShe had utterly forgotten where and why she was going, and only by a\ngreat effort she understood the question.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, handing him her purse, and taking a little red bag in\nher hand, she got out of the carriage.\n\nMaking her way through the crowd to the first-class waiting-room, she\ngradually recollected all the details of her position, and the plans\nbetween which she was hesitating. And again at the old sore places, hope\nand then despair poisoned the wounds of her tortured, fearfully\nthrobbing heart. As she sat on the star-shaped sofa waiting for the\ntrain, she gazed with aversion at the people coming and going (they were\nall hateful to her), and thought how she would arrive at the station,\nwould write him a note, and what she would write to him, and how he was\nat this moment complaining to his mother of his position, not\nunderstanding her sufferings, and how she would go into the room, and\nwhat she would say to him. Then she thought that life might still be\nhappy, and how miserably she loved and hated him, and how fearfully her\nheart was beating.\n\n\n\nChapter 31\n\n\nA bell rang, some young men, ugly and impudent, and at the same time\ncareful of the impression they were making, hurried by. Pyotr, too,\ncrossed the room in his livery and top-boots, with his dull, animal\nface, and came up to her to take her to the train. Some noisy men were\nquiet as she passed them on the platform, and one whispered something\nabout her to another--something vile, no doubt. She stepped up on the\nhigh step, and sat down in a carriage by herself on a dirty seat that\nhad been white. Her bag lay beside her, shaken up and down by the\nspringiness of the seat. With a foolish smile Pyotr raised his hat, with\nits colored band, at the window, in token of farewell; an impudent\nconductor slammed the door and the latch. A grotesque-looking lady\nwearing a bustle (Anna mentally undressed the woman, and was appalled at\nher hideousness), and a little girl laughing affectedly ran down the\nplatform.\n\n\"Katerina Andreevna, she's got them all, _ma tante!_\" cried the girl.\n\n\"Even the child's hideous and affected,\" thought Anna. To avoid seeing\nanyone, she got up quickly and seated herself at the opposite window of\nthe empty carriage. A misshapen-looking peasant covered with dirt, in a\ncap from which his tangled hair stuck out all round, passed by that\nwindow, stooping down to the carriage wheels. \"There's something\nfamiliar about that hideous peasant,\" thought Anna. And remembering her\ndream, she moved away to the opposite door, shaking with terror. The\nconductor opened the door and let in a man and his wife.\n\n\"Do you wish to get out?\"\n\nAnna made no answer. The conductor and her two fellow-passengers did not\nnotice under her veil her panic-stricken face. She went back to her\ncorner and sat down. The couple seated themselves on the opposite side,\nand intently but surreptitiously scrutinized her clothes. Both husband\nand wife seemed repulsive to Anna. The husband asked, would she allow\nhim to smoke, obviously not with a view to smoking but to getting into\nconversation with her. Receiving her assent, he said to his wife in\nFrench something about caring less to smoke than to talk. They made\ninane and affected remarks to one another, entirely for her benefit.\nAnna saw clearly that they were sick of each other, and hated each\nother. And no one could have helped hating such miserable monstrosities.\n\nA second bell sounded, and was followed by moving of luggage, noise,\nshouting and laughter. It was so clear to Anna that there was nothing\nfor anyone to be glad of, that this laughter irritated her agonizingly,\nand she would have liked to stop up her ears not to hear it. At last the\nthird bell rang, there was a whistle and a hiss of steam, and a clank of\nchains, and the man in her carriage crossed himself. \"It would be\ninteresting to ask him what meaning he attaches to that,\" thought Anna,\nlooking angrily at him. She looked past the lady out of the window at\nthe people who seemed whirling by as they ran beside the train or stood\non the platform. The train, jerking at regular intervals at the\njunctions of the rails, rolled by the platform, past a stone wall, a\nsignal-box, past other trains; the wheels, moving more smoothly and\nevenly, resounded with a slight clang on the rails. The window was\nlighted up by the bright evening sun, and a slight breeze fluttered the\ncurtain. Anna forgot her fellow passengers, and to the light swaying of\nthe train she fell to thinking again, as she breathed the fresh air.\n\n\"Yes, what did I stop at? That I couldn't conceive a position in which\nlife would not be a misery, that we are all created to be miserable, and\nthat we all know it, and all invent means of deceiving each other. And\nwhen one sees the truth, what is one to do?\"\n\n\"That's what reason is given man for, to escape from what worries him,\"\nsaid the lady in French, lisping affectedly, and obviously pleased with\nher phrase.\n\nThe words seemed an answer to Anna's thoughts.\n\n\"To escape from what worries him,\" repeated Anna. And glancing at the\nred-cheeked husband and the thin wife, she saw that the sickly wife\nconsidered herself misunderstood, and the husband deceived her and\nencouraged her in that idea of herself. Anna seemed to see all their\nhistory and all the crannies of their souls, as it were turning a light\nupon them. But there was nothing interesting in them, and she pursued\nher thought.\n\n\"Yes, I'm very much worried, and that's what reason was given me for, to\nescape; so then one must escape: why not put out the light when there's\nnothing more to look at, when it's sickening to look at it all? But how?\nWhy did the conductor run along the footboard, why are they shrieking,\nthose young men in that train? why are they talking, why are they\nlaughing? It's all falsehood, all lying, all humbug, all cruelty!...\"\n\nWhen the train came into the station, Anna got out into the crowd of\npassengers, and moving apart from them as if they were lepers, she stood\non the platform, trying to think what she had come here for, and what\nshe meant to do. Everything that had seemed to her possible before was\nnow so difficult to consider, especially in this noisy crowd of hideous\npeople who would not leave her alone. One moment porters ran up to her\nproffering their services, then young men, clacking their heels on the\nplanks of the platform and talking loudly, stared at her; people meeting\nher dodged past on the wrong side. Remembering that she had meant to go\non further if there were no answer, she stopped a porter and asked if\nher coachman were not here with a note from Count Vronsky.\n\n\"Count Vronsky? They sent up here from the Vronskys just this minute, to\nmeet Princess Sorokina and her daughter. And what is the coachman like?\"\n\nJust as she was talking to the porter, the coachman Mihail, red and\ncheerful in his smart blue coat and chain, evidently proud of having so\nsuccessfully performed his commission, came up to her and gave her a\nletter. She broke it open, and her heart ached before she had read it.\n\n\"I am very sorry your note did not reach me. I will be home at ten,\"\nVronsky had written carelessly....\n\n\"Yes, that's what I expected!\" she said to herself with an evil smile.\n\n\"Very good, you can go home then,\" she said softly, addressing Mihail.\nShe spoke softly because the rapidity of her heart's beating hindered\nher breathing. \"No, I won't let you make me miserable,\" she thought\nmenacingly, addressing not him, not herself, but the power that made her\nsuffer, and she walked along the platform.\n\nTwo maid-servants walking along the platform turned their heads, staring\nat her and making some remarks about her dress. \"Real,\" they said of the\nlace she was wearing. The young men would not leave her in peace. Again\nthey passed by, peering into her face, and with a laugh shouting\nsomething in an unnatural voice. The station-master coming up asked her\nwhether she was going by train. A boy selling kvas never took his eyes\noff her. \"My God! where am I to go?\" she thought, going farther and\nfarther along the platform. At the end she stopped. Some ladies and\nchildren, who had come to meet a gentleman in spectacles, paused in\ntheir loud laughter and talking, and stared at her as she reached them.\nShe quickened her pace and walked away from them to the edge of the\nplatform. A luggage train was coming in. The platform began to sway, and\nshe fancied she was in the train again.\n\nAnd all at once she thought of the man crushed by the train the day she\nhad first met Vronsky, and she knew what she had to do. With a rapid,\nlight step she went down the steps that led from the tank to the rails\nand stopped quite near the approaching train.\n\nShe looked at the lower part of the carriages, at the screws and chains\nand the tall cast-iron wheel of the first carriage slowly moving up, and\ntrying to measure the middle between the front and back wheels, and the\nvery minute when that middle point would be opposite her.\n\n\"There,\" she said to herself, looking into the shadow of the carriage,\nat the sand and coal dust which covered the sleepers--\"there, in the\nvery middle, and I will punish him and escape from everyone and from\nmyself.\"\n\nShe tried to fling herself below the wheels of the first carriage as it\nreached her; but the red bag which she tried to drop out of her hand\ndelayed her, and she was too late; she missed the moment. She had to\nwait for the next carriage. A feeling such as she had known when about\nto take the first plunge in bathing came upon her, and she crossed\nherself. That familiar gesture brought back into her soul a whole series\nof girlish and childish memories, and suddenly the darkness that had\ncovered everything for her was torn apart, and life rose up before her\nfor an instant with all its bright past joys. But she did not take her\neyes from the wheels of the second carriage. And exactly at the moment\nwhen the space between the wheels came opposite her, she dropped the red\nbag, and drawing her head back into her shoulders, fell on her hands\nunder the carriage, and lightly, as though she would rise again at once,\ndropped on to her knees. And at the same instant she was terror-stricken\nat what she was doing. \"Where am I? What am I doing? What for?\" She\ntried to get up, to drop backwards; but something huge and merciless\nstruck her on the head and rolled her on her back. \"Lord, forgive me\nall!\" she said, feeling it impossible to struggle. A peasant muttering\nsomething was working at the iron above her. And the light by which she\nhad read the book filled with troubles, falsehoods, sorrow, and evil,\nflared up more brightly than ever before, lighted up for her all that\nhad been in darkness, flickered, began to grow dim, and was quenched\nforever.\n\n\n\n\nPART EIGHT\n\n\n\nChapter 1\n\n\nAlmost two months had passed. The hot summer was half over, but Sergey\nIvanovitch was only just preparing to leave Moscow.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch's life had not been uneventful during this time. A\nyear ago he had finished his book, the fruit of six years' labor,\n\"Sketch of a Survey of the Principles and Forms of Government in Europe\nand Russia.\" Several sections of this book and its introduction had\nappeared in periodical publications, and other parts had been read by\nSergey Ivanovitch to persons of his circle, so that the leading ideas of\nthe work could not be completely novel to the public. But still Sergey\nIvanovitch had expected that on its appearance his book would be sure to\nmake a serious impression on society, and if it did not cause a\nrevolution in social science it would, at any rate, make a great stir in\nthe scientific world.\n\nAfter the most conscientious revision the book had last year been\npublished, and had been distributed among the booksellers.\n\nThough he asked no one about it, reluctantly and with feigned\nindifference answered his friends' inquiries as to how the book was\ngoing, and did not even inquire of the booksellers how the book was\nselling, Sergey Ivanovitch was all on the alert, with strained\nattention, watching for the first impression his book would make in the\nworld and in literature.\n\nBut a week passed, a second, a third, and in society no impression\nwhatever could be detected. His friends who were specialists and\nsavants, occasionally--unmistakably from politeness--alluded to it. The\nrest of his acquaintances, not interested in a book on a learned\nsubject, did not talk of it at all. And society generally--just now\nespecially absorbed in other things--was absolutely indifferent. In the\npress, too, for a whole month there was not a word about his book.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch had calculated to a nicety the time necessary for\nwriting a review, but a month passed, and a second, and still there was\nsilence.\n\nOnly in the _Northern Beetle_, in a comic article on the singer\nDrabanti, who had lost his voice, there was a contemptuous allusion to\nKoznishev's book, suggesting that the book had been long ago seen\nthrough by everyone, and was a subject of general ridicule.\n\nAt last in the third month a critical article appeared in a serious\nreview. Sergey Ivanovitch knew the author of the article. He had met him\nonce at Golubtsov's.\n\nThe author of the article was a young man, an invalid, very bold as a\nwriter, but extremely deficient in breeding and shy in personal\nrelations.\n\nIn spite of his absolute contempt for the author, it was with complete\nrespect that Sergey Ivanovitch set about reading the article. The\narticle was awful.\n\nThe critic had undoubtedly put an interpretation upon the book which\ncould not possibly be put on it. But he had selected quotations so\nadroitly that for people who had not read the book (and obviously\nscarcely anyone had read it) it seemed absolutely clear that the whole\nbook was nothing but a medley of high-flown phrases, not even--as\nsuggested by marks of interrogation--used appropriately, and that the\nauthor of the book was a person absolutely without knowledge of the\nsubject. And all this was so wittily done that Sergey Ivanovitch would\nnot have disowned such wit himself. But that was just what was so awful.\n\nIn spite of the scrupulous conscientiousness with which Sergey\nIvanovitch verified the correctness of the critic's arguments, he did\nnot for a minute stop to ponder over the faults and mistakes which were\nridiculed; but unconsciously he began immediately trying to recall every\ndetail of his meeting and conversation with the author of the article.\n\n\"Didn't I offend him in some way?\" Sergey Ivanovitch wondered.\n\nAnd remembering that when they met he had corrected the young man about\nsomething he had said that betrayed ignorance, Sergey Ivanovitch found\nthe clue to explain the article.\n\nThis article was followed by a deadly silence about the book both in the\npress and in conversation, and Sergey Ivanovitch saw that his six years'\ntask, toiled at with such love and labor, had gone, leaving no trace.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch's position was still more difficult from the fact\nthat, since he had finished his book, he had had no more literary work\nto do, such as had hitherto occupied the greater part of his time.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch was clever, cultivated, healthy, and energetic, and he\ndid not know what use to make of his energy. Conversations in drawing\nrooms, in meetings, assemblies, and committees--everywhere where talk\nwas possible--took up part of his time. But being used for years to town\nlife, he did not waste all his energies in talk, as his less experienced\nyounger brother did, when he was in Moscow. He had a great deal of\nleisure and intellectual energy still to dispose of.\n\nFortunately for him, at this period so difficult for him from the\nfailure of his book, the various public questions of the dissenting\nsects, of the American alliance, of the Samara famine, of exhibitions,\nand of spiritualism, were definitely replaced in public interest by the\nSlavonic question, which had hitherto rather languidly interested\nsociety, and Sergey Ivanovitch, who had been one of the first to raise\nthis subject, threw himself into it heart and soul.\n\nIn the circle to which Sergey Ivanovitch belonged, nothing was talked of\nor written about just now but the Servian War. Everything that the idle\ncrowd usually does to kill time was done now for the benefit of the\nSlavonic States. Balls, concerts, dinners, matchboxes, ladies' dresses,\nbeer, restaurants--everything testified to sympathy with the Slavonic\npeoples.\n\nFrom much of what was spoken and written on the subject, Sergey\nIvanovitch differed on various points. He saw that the Slavonic question\nhad become one of those fashionable distractions which succeed one\nanother in providing society with an object and an occupation. He saw,\ntoo, that a great many people were taking up the subject from motives of\nself-interest and self-advertisement. He recognized that the newspapers\npublished a great deal that was superfluous and exaggerated, with the\nsole aim of attracting attention and outbidding one another. He saw that\nin this general movement those who thrust themselves most forward and\nshouted the loudest were men who had failed and were smarting under a\nsense of injury--generals without armies, ministers not in the ministry,\njournalists not on any paper, party leaders without followers. He saw\nthat there was a great deal in it that was frivolous and absurd. But he\nsaw and recognized an unmistakable growing enthusiasm, uniting all\nclasses, with which it was impossible not to sympathize. The massacre of\nmen who were fellow Christians, and of the same Slavonic race, excited\nsympathy for the sufferers and indignation against the oppressors. And\nthe heroism of the Servians and Montenegrins struggling for a great\ncause begot in the whole people a longing to help their brothers not in\nword but in deed.\n\nBut in this there was another aspect that rejoiced Sergey Ivanovitch.\nThat was the manifestation of public opinion. The public had definitely\nexpressed its desire. The soul of the people had, as Sergey Ivanovitch\nsaid, found expression. And the more he worked in this cause, the more\nincontestable it seemed to him that it was a cause destined to assume\nvast dimensions, to create an epoch.\n\nHe threw himself heart and soul into the service of this great cause,\nand forgot to think about his book. His whole time now was engrossed by\nit, so that he could scarcely manage to answer all the letters and\nappeals addressed to him. He worked the whole spring and part of the\nsummer, and it was only in July that he prepared to go away to his\nbrother's in the country.\n\nHe was going both to rest for a fortnight, and in the very heart of the\npeople, in the farthest wilds of the country, to enjoy the sight of that\nuplifting of the spirit of the people, of which, like all residents in\nthe capital and big towns, he was fully persuaded. Katavasov had long\nbeen meaning to carry out his promise to stay with Levin, and so he was\ngoing with him.\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\n\nSergey Ivanovitch and Katavasov had only just reached the station of the\nKursk line, which was particularly busy and full of people that day,\nwhen, looking round for the groom who was following with their things,\nthey saw a party of volunteers driving up in four cabs. Ladies met them\nwith bouquets of flowers, and followed by the rushing crowd they went\ninto the station.\n\nOne of the ladies, who had met the volunteers, came out of the hall and\naddressed Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"You too come to see them off?\" she asked in French.\n\n\"No, I'm going away myself, princess. To my brother's for a holiday. Do\nyou always see them off?\" said Sergey Ivanovitch with a hardly\nperceptible smile.\n\n\"Oh, that would be impossible!\" answered the princess. \"Is it true that\neight hundred have been sent from us already? Malvinsky wouldn't believe\nme.\"\n\n\"More than eight hundred. If you reckon those who have been sent not\ndirectly from Moscow, over a thousand,\" answered Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"There! That's just what I said!\" exclaimed the lady. \"And it's true\ntoo, I suppose, that more than a million has been subscribed?\"\n\n\"Yes, princess.\"\n\n\"What do you say to today's telegram? Beaten the Turks again.\"\n\n\"Yes, so I saw,\" answered Sergey Ivanovitch. They were speaking of the\nlast telegram stating that the Turks had been for three days in\nsuccession beaten at all points and put to flight, and that tomorrow a\ndecisive engagement was expected.\n\n\"Ah, by the way, a splendid young fellow has asked leave to go, and\nthey've made some difficulty, I don't know why. I meant to ask you; I\nknow him; please write a note about his case. He's being sent by\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna.\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch asked for all the details the princess knew about the\nyoung man, and going into the first-class waiting-room, wrote a note to\nthe person on whom the granting of leave of absence depended, and handed\nit to the princess.\n\n\"You know Count Vronsky, the notorious one ... is going by this train?\"\nsaid the princess with a smile full of triumph and meaning, when he\nfound her again and gave her the letter.\n\n\"I had heard he was going, but I did not know when. By this train?\"\n\n\"I've seen him. He's here: there's only his mother seeing him off. It's\nthe best thing, anyway, that he could do.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, of course.\"\n\nWhile they were talking the crowd streamed by them into the dining room.\nThey went forward too, and heard a gentleman with a glass in his hand\ndelivering a loud discourse to the volunteers. \"In the service of\nreligion, humanity, and our brothers,\" the gentleman said, his voice\ngrowing louder and louder; \"to this great cause mother Moscow dedicates\nyou with her blessing. _Jivio!_\" he concluded, loudly and tearfully.\n\nEveryone shouted _Jivio!_ and a fresh crowd dashed into the hall, almost\ncarrying the princess off her legs.\n\n\"Ah, princess! that was something like!\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch,\nsuddenly appearing in the middle of the crowd and beaming upon them with\na delighted smile. \"Capitally, warmly said, wasn't it? Bravo! And Sergey\nIvanovitch! Why, you ought to have said something--just a few words, you\nknow, to encourage them; you do that so well,\" he added with a soft,\nrespectful, and discreet smile, moving Sergey Ivanovitch forward a\nlittle by the arm.\n\n\"No, I'm just off.\"\n\n\"Where to?\"\n\n\"To the country, to my brother's,\" answered Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"Then you'll see my wife. I've written to her, but you'll see her first.\nPlease tell her that they've seen me and that it's 'all right,' as the\nEnglish say. She'll understand. Oh, and be so good as to tell her I'm\nappointed secretary of the committee.... But she'll understand! You\nknow, _les petites miseres de la vie humaine,_\" he said, as it were\napologizing to the princess. \"And Princess Myakaya--not Liza, but\nBibish--is sending a thousand guns and twelve nurses. Did I tell you?\"\n\n\"Yes, I heard so,\" answered Koznishev indifferently.\n\n\"It's a pity you're going away,\" said Stepan Arkadyevitch. \"Tomorrow\nwe're giving a dinner to two who're setting off--Dimer-Bartnyansky from\nPetersburg and our Veslovsky, Grisha. They're both going. Veslovsky's\nonly lately married. There's a fine fellow for you! Eh, princess?\" he\nturned to the lady.\n\nThe princess looked at Koznishev without replying. But the fact that\nSergey Ivanovitch and the princess seemed anxious to get rid of him did\nnot in the least disconcert Stepan Arkadyevitch. Smiling, he stared at\nthe feather in the princess's hat, and then about him as though he were\ngoing to pick something up. Seeing a lady approaching with a collecting\nbox, he beckoned her up and put in a five-rouble note.\n\n\"I can never see these collecting boxes unmoved while I've money in my\npocket,\" he said. \"And how about today's telegram? Fine chaps those\nMontenegrins!\"\n\n\"You don't say so!\" he cried, when the princess told him that Vronsky\nwas going by this train. For an instant Stepan Arkadyevitch's face\nlooked sad, but a minute later, when, stroking his mustaches and\nswinging as he walked, he went into the hall where Vronsky was, he had\ncompletely forgotten his own despairing sobs over his sister's corpse,\nand he saw in Vronsky only a hero and an old friend.\n\n\"With all his faults one can't refuse to do him justice,\" said the\nprincess to Sergey Ivanovitch as soon as Stepan Arkadyevitch had left\nthem. \"What a typically Russian, Slav nature! Only, I'm afraid it won't\nbe pleasant for Vronsky to see him. Say what you will, I'm touched by\nthat man's fate. Do talk to him a little on the way,\" said the princess.\n\n\"Yes, perhaps, if it happens so.\"\n\n\"I never liked him. But this atones for a great deal. He's not merely\ngoing himself, he's taking a squadron at his own expense.\"\n\n\"Yes, so I heard.\"\n\nA bell sounded. Everyone crowded to the doors. \"Here he is!\" said the\nprincess, indicating Vronsky, who with his mother on his arm walked by,\nwearing a long overcoat and wide-brimmed black hat. Oblonsky was walking\nbeside him, talking eagerly of something.\n\nVronsky was frowning and looking straight before him, as though he did\nnot hear what Stepan Arkadyevitch was saying.\n\nProbably on Oblonsky's pointing them out, he looked round in the\ndirection where the princess and Sergey Ivanovitch were standing, and\nwithout speaking lifted his hat. His face, aged and worn by suffering,\nlooked stony.\n\nGoing onto the platform, Vronsky left his mother and disappeared into a\ncompartment.\n\nOn the platform there rang out \"God save the Tsar,\" then shouts of\n\"hurrah!\" and _\"jivio!\"_ One of the volunteers, a tall, very young man\nwith a hollow chest, was particularly conspicuous, bowing and waving his\nfelt hat and a nosegay over his head. Then two officers emerged, bowing\ntoo, and a stout man with a big beard, wearing a greasy forage cap.\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\n\nSaying good-bye to the princess, Sergey Ivanovitch was joined by\nKatavasov; together they got into a carriage full to overflowing, and\nthe train started.\n\nAt Tsaritsino station the train was met by a chorus of young men singing\n\"Hail to Thee!\" Again the volunteers bowed and poked their heads out,\nbut Sergey Ivanovitch paid no attention to them. He had had so much to\ndo with the volunteers that the type was familiar to him and did not\ninterest him. Katavasov, whose scientific work had prevented his having\na chance of observing them hitherto, was very much interested in them\nand questioned Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch advised him to go into the second-class and talk to\nthem himself. At the next station Katavasov acted on this suggestion.\n\nAt the first stop he moved into the second-class and made the\nacquaintance of the volunteers. They were sitting in a corner of the\ncarriage, talking loudly and obviously aware that the attention of the\npassengers and Katavasov as he got in was concentrated upon them. More\nloudly than all talked the tall, hollow-chested young man. He was\nunmistakably tipsy, and was relating some story that had occurred at his\nschool. Facing him sat a middle-aged officer in the Austrian military\njacket of the Guards uniform. He was listening with a smile to the\nhollow-chested youth, and occasionally pulling him up. The third, in an\nartillery uniform, was sitting on a box beside them. A fourth was\nasleep.\n\nEntering into conversation with the youth, Katavasov learned that he was\na wealthy Moscow merchant who had run through a large fortune before he\nwas two-and-twenty. Katavasov did not like him, because he was unmanly\nand effeminate and sickly. He was obviously convinced, especially now\nafter drinking, that he was performing a heroic action, and he bragged\nof it in the most unpleasant way.\n\nThe second, the retired officer, made an unpleasant impression too upon\nKatavasov. He was, it seemed, a man who had tried everything. He had\nbeen on a railway, had been a land-steward, and had started factories,\nand he talked, quite without necessity, of all he had done, and used\nlearned expressions quite inappropriately.\n\nThe third, the artilleryman, on the contrary, struck Katavasov very\nfavorably. He was a quiet, modest fellow, unmistakably impressed by the\nknowledge of the officer and the heroic self-sacrifice of the merchant\nand saying nothing about himself. When Katavasov asked him what had\nimpelled him to go to Servia, he answered modestly:\n\n\"Oh, well, everyone's going. The Servians want help, too. I'm sorry for\nthem.\"\n\n\"Yes, you artillerymen especially are scarce there,\" said Katavasov.\n\n\"Oh, I wasn't long in the artillery, maybe they'll put me into the\ninfantry or the cavalry.\"\n\n\"Into the infantry when they need artillery more than anything?\" said\nKatavasov, fancying from the artilleryman's apparent age that he must\nhave reached a fairly high grade.\n\n\"I wasn't long in the artillery; I'm a cadet retired,\" he said, and he\nbegan to explain how he had failed in his examination.\n\nAll of this together made a disagreeable impression on Katavasov, and\nwhen the volunteers got out at a station for a drink, Katavasov would\nhave liked to compare his unfavorable impression in conversation with\nsomeone. There was an old man in the carriage, wearing a military\novercoat, who had been listening all the while to Katavasov's\nconversation with the volunteers. When they were left alone, Katavasov\naddressed him.\n\n\"What different positions they come from, all those fellows who are\ngoing off there,\" Katavasov said vaguely, not wishing to express his own\nopinion, and at the same time anxious to find out the old man's views.\n\nThe old man was an officer who had served on two campaigns. He knew what\nmakes a soldier, and judging by the appearance and the talk of those\npersons, by the swagger with which they had recourse to the bottle on\nthe journey, he considered them poor soldiers. Moreover, he lived in a\ndistrict town, and he was longing to tell how one soldier had\nvolunteered from his town, a drunkard and a thief whom no one would\nemploy as a laborer. But knowing by experience that in the present\ncondition of the public temper it was dangerous to express an opinion\nopposed to the general one, and especially to criticize the volunteers\nunfavorably, he too watched Katavasov without committing himself.\n\n\"Well, men are wanted there,\" he said, laughing with his eyes. And they\nfell to talking of the last war news, and each concealed from the other\nhis perplexity as to the engagement expected next day, since the Turks\nhad been beaten, according to the latest news, at all points. And so\nthey parted, neither giving expression to his opinion.\n\nKatavasov went back to his own carriage, and with reluctant hypocrisy\nreported to Sergey Ivanovitch his observations of the volunteers, from\nwhich it would appear that they were capital fellows.\n\nAt a big station at a town the volunteers were again greeted with shouts\nand singing, again men and women with collecting boxes appeared, and\nprovincial ladies brought bouquets to the volunteers and followed them\ninto the refreshment room; but all this was on a much smaller and\nfeebler scale than in Moscow.\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\n\nWhile the train was stopping at the provincial town, Sergey Ivanovitch\ndid not go to the refreshment room, but walked up and down the platform.\n\nThe first time he passed Vronsky's compartment he noticed that the\ncurtain was drawn over the window; but as he passed it the second time\nhe saw the old countess at the window. She beckoned to Koznishev.\n\n\"I'm going, you see, taking him as far as Kursk,\" she said.\n\n\"Yes, so I heard,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, standing at her window and\npeeping in. \"What a noble act on his part!\" he added, noticing that\nVronsky was not in the compartment.\n\n\"Yes, after his misfortune, what was there for him to do?\"\n\n\"What a terrible thing it was!\" said Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"Ah, what I have been through! But do get in.... Ah, what I have been\nthrough!\" she repeated, when Sergey Ivanovitch had got in and sat down\nbeside her. \"You can't conceive it! For six weeks he did not speak to\nanyone, and would not touch food except when I implored him. And not for\none minute could we leave him alone. We took away everything he could\nhave used against himself. We lived on the ground floor, but there was\nno reckoning on anything. You know, of course, that he had shot himself\nonce already on her account,\" she said, and the old lady's eyelashes\ntwitched at the recollection. \"Yes, hers was the fitting end for such a\nwoman. Even the death she chose was low and vulgar.\"\n\n\"It's not for us to judge, countess,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch; \"but I can\nunderstand that it has been very hard for you.\"\n\n\"Ah, don't speak of it! I was staying on my estate, and he was with me.\nA note was brought him. He wrote an answer and sent it off. We hadn't an\nidea that she was close by at the station. In the evening I had only\njust gone to my room, when my Mary told me a lady had thrown herself\nunder the train. Something seemed to strike me at once. I knew it was\nshe. The first thing I said was, he was not to be told. But they'd told\nhim already. His coachman was there and saw it all. When I ran into his\nroom, he was beside himself--it was fearful to see him. He didn't say a\nword, but galloped off there. I don't know to this day what happened\nthere, but he was brought back at death's door. I shouldn't have known\nhim. _Prostration complete,_ the doctor said. And that was followed\nalmost by madness. Oh, why talk of it!\" said the countess with a wave of\nher hand. \"It was an awful time! No, say what you will, she was a bad\nwoman. Why, what is the meaning of such desperate passions? It was all\nto show herself something out of the way. Well, and that she did do. She\nbrought herself to ruin and two good men--her husband and my unhappy\nson.\"\n\n\"And what did her husband do?\" asked Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"He has taken her daughter. Alexey was ready to agree to anything at\nfirst. Now it worries him terribly that he should have given his own\nchild away to another man. But he can't take back his word. Karenin came\nto the funeral. But we tried to prevent his meeting Alexey. For him, for\nher husband, it was easier, anyway. She had set him free. But my poor\nson was utterly given up to her. He had thrown up everything, his\ncareer, me, and even then she had no mercy on him, but of set purpose\nshe made his ruin complete. No, say what you will, her very death was\nthe death of a vile woman, of no religious feeling. God forgive me, but\nI can't help hating the memory of her, when I look at my son's misery!\"\n\n\"But how is he now?\"\n\n\"It was a blessing from Providence for us--this Servian war. I'm old,\nand I don't understand the rights and wrongs of it, but it's come as a\nprovidential blessing to him. Of course for me, as his mother, it's\nterrible; and what's worse, they say, _ce n'est pas tres bien vu a\nPetersbourg_. But it can't be helped! It was the one thing that could\nrouse him. Yashvin--a friend of his--he had lost all he had at cards and\nhe was going to Servia. He came to see him and persuaded him to go. Now\nit's an interest for him. Do please talk to him a little. I want to\ndistract his mind. He's so low-spirited. And as bad luck would have it,\nhe has toothache too. But he'll be delighted to see you. Please do talk\nto him; he's walking up and down on that side.\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch said he would be very glad to, and crossed over to the\nother side of the station.\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\n\nIn the slanting evening shadows cast by the baggage piled up on the\nplatform, Vronsky in his long overcoat and slouch hat, with his hands in\nhis pockets, strode up and down, like a wild beast in a cage, turning\nsharply after twenty paces. Sergey Ivanovitch fancied, as he approached\nhim, that Vronsky saw him but was pretending not to see. This did not\naffect Sergey Ivanovitch in the slightest. He was above all personal\nconsiderations with Vronsky.\n\nAt that moment Sergey Ivanovitch looked upon Vronsky as a man taking an\nimportant part in a great cause, and Koznishev thought it his duty to\nencourage him and express his approval. He went up to him.\n\nVronsky stood still, looked intently at him, recognized him, and going a\nfew steps forward to meet him, shook hands with him very warmly.\n\n\"Possibly you didn't wish to see me,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, \"but\ncouldn't I be of use to you?\"\n\n\"There's no one I should less dislike seeing than you,\" said Vronsky.\n\"Excuse me; and there's nothing in life for me to like.\"\n\n\"I quite understand, and I merely meant to offer you my services,\" said\nSergey Ivanovitch, scanning Vronsky's face, full of unmistakable\nsuffering. \"Wouldn't it be of use to you to have a letter to\nRistitch--to Milan?\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" Vronsky said, seeming to understand him with difficulty. \"If\nyou don't mind, let's walk on. It's so stuffy among the carriages. A\nletter? No, thank you; to meet death one needs no letters of\nintroduction. Nor for the Turks...\" he said, with a smile that was\nmerely of the lips. His eyes still kept their look of angry suffering.\n\n\"Yes; but you might find it easier to get into relations, which are\nafter all essential, with anyone prepared to see you. But that's as you\nlike. I was very glad to hear of your intention. There have been so many\nattacks made on the volunteers, and a man like you raises them in public\nestimation.\"\n\n\"My use as a man,\" said Vronsky, \"is that life's worth nothing to me.\nAnd that I've enough bodily energy to cut my way into their ranks, and\nto trample on them or fall--I know that. I'm glad there's something to\ngive my life for, for it's not simply useless but loathsome to me.\nAnyone's welcome to it.\" And his jaw twitched impatiently from the\nincessant gnawing toothache, that prevented him from even speaking with\na natural expression.\n\n\"You will become another man, I predict,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch,\nfeeling touched. \"To deliver one's brother-men from bondage is an aim\nworth death and life. God grant you success outwardly--and inwardly\npeace,\" he added, and he held out his hand. Vronsky warmly pressed his\noutstretched hand.\n\n\"Yes, as a weapon I may be of some use. But as a man, I'm a wreck,\" he\njerked out.\n\nHe could hardly speak for the throbbing ache in his strong teeth, that\nwere like rows of ivory in his mouth. He was silent, and his eyes rested\non the wheels of the tender, slowly and smoothly rolling along the\nrails.\n\nAnd all at once a different pain, not an ache, but an inner trouble,\nthat set his whole being in anguish, made him for an instant forget his\ntoothache. As he glanced at the tender and the rails, under the\ninfluence of the conversation with a friend he had not met since his\nmisfortune, he suddenly recalled _her_--that is, what was left of her\nwhen he had run like one distraught into the cloak room of the railway\nstation--on the table, shamelessly sprawling out among strangers, the\nbloodstained body so lately full of life; the head unhurt dropping back\nwith its weight of hair, and the curling tresses about the temples, and\nthe exquisite face, with red, half-opened mouth, the strange, fixed\nexpression, piteous on the lips and awful in the still open eyes, that\nseemed to utter that fearful phrase--that he would be sorry for it--that\nshe had said when they were quarreling.\n\nAnd he tried to think of her as she was when he met her the first time,\nat a railway station too, mysterious, exquisite, loving, seeking and\ngiving happiness, and not cruelly revengeful as he remembered her on\nthat last moment. He tried to recall his best moments with her, but\nthose moments were poisoned forever. He could only think of her as\ntriumphant, successful in her menace of a wholly useless remorse never\nto be effaced. He lost all consciousness of toothache, and his face\nworked with sobs.\n\nPassing twice up and down beside the baggage in silence and regaining\nhis self-possession, he addressed Sergey Ivanovitch calmly:\n\n\"You have had no telegrams since yesterday's? Yes, driven back for a\nthird time, but a decisive engagement expected for tomorrow.\"\n\nAnd after talking a little more of King Milan's proclamation, and the\nimmense effect it might have, they parted, going to their carriages on\nhearing the second bell.\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\n\nSergey Ivanovitch had not telegraphed to his brother to send to meet\nhim, as he did not know when he should be able to leave Moscow. Levin\nwas not at home when Katavasov and Sergey Ivanovitch in a fly hired at\nthe station drove up to the steps of the Pokrovskoe house, as black as\nMoors from the dust of the road. Kitty, sitting on the balcony with her\nfather and sister, recognized her brother-in-law, and ran down to meet\nhim.\n\n\"What a shame not to have let us know,\" she said, giving her hand to\nSergey Ivanovitch, and putting her forehead up for him to kiss.\n\n\"We drove here capitally, and have not put you out,\" answered Sergey\nIvanovitch. \"I'm so dirty. I'm afraid to touch you. I've been so busy, I\ndidn't know when I should be able to tear myself away. And so you're\nstill as ever enjoying your peaceful, quiet happiness,\" he said,\nsmiling, \"out of the reach of the current in your peaceful backwater.\nHere's our friend Fyodor Vassilievitch who has succeeded in getting here\nat last.\"\n\n\"But I'm not a negro, I shall look like a human being when I wash,\" said\nKatavasov in his jesting fashion, and he shook hands and smiled, his\nteeth flashing white in his black face.\n\n\"Kostya will be delighted. He has gone to his settlement. It's time he\nshould be home.\"\n\n\"Busy as ever with his farming. It really is a peaceful backwater,\" said\nKatavasov; \"while we in town think of nothing but the Servian war. Well,\nhow does our friend look at it? He's sure not to think like other\npeople.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know, like everybody else,\" Kitty answered, a little\nembarrassed, looking round at Sergey Ivanovitch. \"I'll send to fetch\nhim. Papa's staying with us. He's only just come home from abroad.\"\n\nAnd making arrangements to send for Levin and for the guests to wash,\none in his room and the other in what had been Dolly's, and giving\norders for their luncheon, Kitty ran out onto the balcony, enjoying the\nfreedom, and rapidity of movement, of which she had been deprived during\nthe months of her pregnancy.\n\n\"It's Sergey Ivanovitch and Katavasov, a professor,\" she said.\n\n\"Oh, that's a bore in this heat,\" said the prince.\n\n\"No, papa, he's very nice, and Kostya's very fond of him,\" Kitty said,\nwith a deprecating smile, noticing the irony on her father's face.\n\n\"Oh, I didn't say anything.\"\n\n\"You go to them, darling,\" said Kitty to her sister, \"and entertain\nthem. They saw Stiva at the station; he was quite well. And I must run\nto Mitya. As ill-luck would have it, I haven't fed him since tea. He's\nawake now, and sure to be screaming.\" And feeling a rush of milk, she\nhurried to the nursery.\n\nThis was not a mere guess; her connection with the child was still so\nclose, that she could gauge by the flow of her milk his need of food,\nand knew for certain he was hungry.\n\nShe knew he was crying before she reached the nursery. And he was indeed\ncrying. She heard him and hastened. But the faster she went, the louder\nhe screamed. It was a fine healthy scream, hungry and impatient.\n\n\"Has he been screaming long, nurse, very long?\" said Kitty hurriedly,\nseating herself on a chair, and preparing to give the baby the breast.\n\"But give me him quickly. Oh, nurse, how tiresome you are! There, tie\nthe cap afterwards, do!\"\n\nThe baby's greedy scream was passing into sobs.\n\n\"But you can't manage so, ma'am,\" said Agafea Mihalovna, who was almost\nalways to be found in the nursery. \"He must be put straight. A-oo!\na-oo!\" she chanted over him, paying no attention to the mother.\n\nThe nurse brought the baby to his mother. Agafea Mihalovna followed him\nwith a face dissolving with tenderness.\n\n\"He knows me, he knows me. In God's faith, Katerina Alexandrovna, ma'am,\nhe knew me!\" Agafea Mihalovna cried above the baby's screams.\n\nBut Kitty did not hear her words. Her impatience kept growing, like the\nbaby's.\n\nTheir impatience hindered things for a while. The baby could not get\nhold of the breast right, and was furious.\n\nAt last, after despairing, breathless screaming, and vain sucking,\nthings went right, and mother and child felt simultaneously soothed, and\nboth subsided into calm.\n\n\"But poor darling, he's all in perspiration!\" said Kitty in a whisper,\ntouching the baby.\n\n\"What makes you think he knows you?\" she added, with a sidelong glance\nat the baby's eyes, that peered roguishly, as she fancied, from under\nhis cap, at his rhythmically puffing cheeks, and the little red-palmed\nhand he was waving.\n\n\"Impossible! If he knew anyone, he would have known me,\" said Kitty, in\nresponse to Agafea Mihalovna's statement, and she smiled.\n\nShe smiled because, though she said he could not know her, in her heart\nshe was sure that he knew not merely Agafea Mihalovna, but that he knew\nand understood everything, and knew and understood a great deal too that\nno one else knew, and that she, his mother, had learned and come to\nunderstand only through him. To Agafea Mihalovna, to the nurse, to his\ngrandfather, to his father even, Mitya was a living being, requiring\nonly material care, but for his mother he had long been a mortal being,\nwith whom there had been a whole series of spiritual relations already.\n\n\"When he wakes up, please God, you shall see for yourself. Then when I\ndo like this, he simply beams on me, the darling! Simply beams like a\nsunny day!\" said Agafea Mihalovna.\n\n\"Well, well; then we shall see,\" whispered Kitty. \"But now go away, he's\ngoing to sleep.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\n\nAgafea Mihalovna went out on tiptoe; the nurse let down the blind,\nchased a fly out from under the muslin canopy of the crib, and a\nbumblebee struggling on the window-frame, and sat down waving a faded\nbranch of birch over the mother and the baby.\n\n\"How hot it is! if God would send a drop of rain,\" she said.\n\n\"Yes, yes, sh--sh--sh--\" was all Kitty answered, rocking a little, and\ntenderly squeezing the plump little arm, with rolls of fat at the wrist,\nwhich Mitya still waved feebly as he opened and shut his eyes. That hand\nworried Kitty; she longed to kiss the little hand, but was afraid to for\nfear of waking the baby. At last the little hand ceased waving, and the\neyes closed. Only from time to time, as he went on sucking, the baby\nraised his long, curly eyelashes and peeped at his mother with wet eyes,\nthat looked black in the twilight. The nurse had left off fanning, and\nwas dozing. From above came the peals of the old prince's voice, and the\nchuckle of Katavasov.\n\n\"They have got into talk without me,\" thought Kitty, \"but still it's\nvexing that Kostya's out. He's sure to have gone to the bee house again.\nThough it's a pity he's there so often, still I'm glad. It distracts his\nmind. He's become altogether happier and better now than in the spring.\nHe used to be so gloomy and worried that I felt frightened for him. And\nhow absurd he is!\" she whispered, smiling.\n\nShe knew what worried her husband. It was his unbelief. Although, if she\nhad been asked whether she supposed that in the future life, if he did\nnot believe, he would be damned, she would have had to admit that he\nwould be damned, his unbelief did not cause her unhappiness. And she,\nconfessing that for an unbeliever there can be no salvation, and loving\nher husband's soul more than anything in the world, thought with a smile\nof his unbelief, and told herself that he was absurd.\n\n\"What does he keep reading philosophy of some sort for all this year?\"\nshe wondered. \"If it's all written in those books, he can understand\nthem. If it's all wrong, why does he read them? He says himself that he\nwould like to believe. Then why is it he doesn't believe? Surely from\nhis thinking so much? And he thinks so much from being solitary. He's\nalways alone, alone. He can't talk about it all to us. I fancy he'll be\nglad of these visitors, especially Katavasov. He likes discussions with\nthem,\" she thought, and passed instantly to the consideration of where\nit would be more convenient to put Katavasov, to sleep alone or to share\nSergey Ivanovitch's room. And then an idea suddenly struck her, which\nmade her shudder and even disturb Mitya, who glanced severely at her. \"I\ndo believe the laundress hasn't sent the washing yet, and all the best\nsheets are in use. If I don't see to it, Agafea Mihalovna will give\nSergey Ivanovitch the wrong sheets,\" and at the very idea of this the\nblood rushed to Kitty's face.\n\n\"Yes, I will arrange it,\" she decided, and going back to her former\nthoughts, she remembered that some spiritual question of importance had\nbeen interrupted, and she began to recall what. \"Yes, Kostya, an\nunbeliever,\" she thought again with a smile.\n\n\"Well, an unbeliever then! Better let him always be one than like Madame\nStahl, or what I tried to be in those days abroad. No, he won't ever\nsham anything.\"\n\nAnd a recent instance of his goodness rose vividly to her mind. A\nfortnight ago a penitent letter had come from Stepan Arkadyevitch to\nDolly. He besought her to save his honor, to sell her estate to pay his\ndebts. Dolly was in despair, she detested her husband, despised him,\npitied him, resolved on a separation, resolved to refuse, but ended by\nagreeing to sell part of her property. After that, with an irrepressible\nsmile of tenderness, Kitty recalled her husband's shamefaced\nembarrassment, his repeated awkward efforts to approach the subject, and\nhow at last, having thought of the one means of helping Dolly without\nwounding her pride, he had suggested to Kitty--what had not occurred to\nher before--that she should give up her share of the property.\n\n\"He an unbeliever indeed! With his heart, his dread of offending anyone,\neven a child! Everything for others, nothing for himself. Sergey\nIvanovitch simply considers it as Kostya's duty to be his steward. And\nit's the same with his sister. Now Dolly and her children are under his\nguardianship; all these peasants who come to him every day, as though he\nwere bound to be at their service.\"\n\n\"Yes, only be like your father, only like him,\" she said, handing Mitya\nover to the nurse, and putting her lips to his cheek.\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\n\nEver since, by his beloved brother's deathbed, Levin had first glanced\ninto the questions of life and death in the light of these new\nconvictions, as he called them, which had during the period from his\ntwentieth to his thirty-fourth year imperceptibly replaced his childish\nand youthful beliefs--he had been stricken with horror, not so much of\ndeath, as of life, without any knowledge of whence, and why, and how,\nand what it was. The physical organization, its decay, the\nindestructibility of matter, the law of the conservation of energy,\nevolution, were the words which usurped the place of his old belief.\nThese words and the ideas associated with them were very well for\nintellectual purposes. But for life they yielded nothing, and Levin felt\nsuddenly like a man who has changed his warm fur cloak for a muslin\ngarment, and going for the first time into the frost is immediately\nconvinced, not by reason, but by his whole nature that he is as good as\nnaked, and that he must infallibly perish miserably.\n\nFrom that moment, though he did not distinctly face it, and still went\non living as before, Levin had never lost this sense of terror at his\nlack of knowledge.\n\nHe vaguely felt, too, that what he called his new convictions were not\nmerely lack of knowledge, but that they were part of a whole order of\nideas, in which no knowledge of what he needed was possible.\n\nAt first, marriage, with the new joys and duties bound up with it, had\ncompletely crowded out these thoughts. But of late, while he was staying\nin Moscow after his wife's confinement, with nothing to do, the question\nthat clamored for solution had more and more often, more and more\ninsistently, haunted Levin's mind.\n\nThe question was summed up for him thus: \"If I do not accept the answers\nChristianity gives to the problems of my life, what answers do I\naccept?\" And in the whole arsenal of his convictions, so far from\nfinding any satisfactory answers, he was utterly unable to find anything\nat all like an answer.\n\nHe was in the position of a man seeking food in toy shops and tool\nshops.\n\nInstinctively, unconsciously, with every book, with every conversation,\nwith every man he met, he was on the lookout for light on these\nquestions and their solution.\n\nWhat puzzled and distracted him above everything was that the majority\nof men of his age and circle had, like him, exchanged their old beliefs\nfor the same new convictions, and yet saw nothing to lament in this, and\nwere perfectly satisfied and serene. So that, apart from the principal\nquestion, Levin was tortured by other questions too. Were these people\nsincere? he asked himself, or were they playing a part? or was it that\nthey understood the answers science gave to these problems in some\ndifferent, clearer sense than he did? And he assiduously studied both\nthese men's opinions and the books which treated of these scientific\nexplanations.\n\nOne fact he had found out since these questions had engrossed his mind,\nwas that he had been quite wrong in supposing from the recollections of\nthe circle of his young days at college, that religion had outlived its\nday, and that it was now practically non-existent. All the people\nnearest to him who were good in their lives were believers. The old\nprince, and Lvov, whom he liked so much, and Sergey Ivanovitch, and all\nthe women believed, and his wife believed as simply as he had believed\nin his earliest childhood, and ninety-nine hundredths of the Russian\npeople, all the working people for whose life he felt the deepest\nrespect, believed.\n\nAnother fact of which he became convinced, after reading many scientific\nbooks, was that the men who shared his views had no other construction\nto put on them, and that they gave no explanation of the questions which\nhe felt he could not live without answering, but simply ignored their\nexistence and attempted to explain other questions of no possible\ninterest to him, such as the evolution of organisms, the materialistic\ntheory of consciousness, and so forth.\n\nMoreover, during his wife's confinement, something had happened that\nseemed extraordinary to him. He, an unbeliever, had fallen into praying,\nand at the moment he prayed, he believed. But that moment had passed,\nand he could not make his state of mind at that moment fit into the rest\nof his life.\n\nHe could not admit that at that moment he knew the truth, and that now\nhe was wrong; for as soon as he began thinking calmly about it, it all\nfell to pieces. He could not admit that he was mistaken then, for his\nspiritual condition then was precious to him, and to admit that it was a\nproof of weakness would have been to desecrate those moments. He was\nmiserably divided against himself, and strained all his spiritual forces\nto the utmost to escape from this condition.\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\n\nThese doubts fretted and harassed him, growing weaker or stronger from\ntime to time, but never leaving him. He read and thought, and the more\nhe read and the more he thought, the further he felt from the aim he was\npursuing.\n\nOf late in Moscow and in the country, since he had become convinced that\nhe would find no solution in the materialists, he had read and re-read\nthoroughly Plato, Spinoza, Kant, Schelling, Hegel, and Schopenhauer, the\nphilosophers who gave a non-materialistic explanation of life.\n\nTheir ideas seemed to him fruitful when he was reading or was himself\nseeking arguments to refute other theories, especially those of the\nmaterialists; but as soon as he began to read or sought for himself a\nsolution of problems, the same thing always happened. As long as he\nfollowed the fixed definition of obscure words such as _spirit, will,\nfreedom, essence,_ purposely letting himself go into the snare of words\nthe philosophers set for him, he seemed to comprehend something. But he\nhad only to forget the artificial train of reasoning, and to turn from\nlife itself to what had satisfied him while thinking in accordance with\nthe fixed definitions, and all this artificial edifice fell to pieces at\nonce like a house of cards, and it became clear that the edifice had\nbeen built up out of those transposed words, apart from anything in life\nmore important than reason.\n\nAt one time, reading Schopenhauer, he put in place of his will the word\n_love_, and for a couple of days this new philosophy charmed him, till\nhe removed a little away from it. But then, when he turned from life\nitself to glance at it again, it fell away too, and proved to be the\nsame muslin garment with no warmth in it.\n\nHis brother Sergey Ivanovitch advised him to read the theological works\nof Homiakov. Levin read the second volume of Homiakov's works, and in\nspite of the elegant, epigrammatic, argumentative style which at first\nrepelled him, he was impressed by the doctrine of the church he found in\nthem. He was struck at first by the idea that the apprehension of divine\ntruths had not been vouchsafed to man, but to a corporation of men bound\ntogether by love--to the church. What delighted him was the thought how\nmuch easier it was to believe in a still existing living church,\nembracing all the beliefs of men, and having God at its head, and\ntherefore holy and infallible, and from it to accept the faith in God,\nin the creation, the fall, the redemption, than to begin with God, a\nmysterious, far-away God, the creation, etc. But afterwards, on reading\na Catholic writer's history of the church, and then a Greek orthodox\nwriter's history of the church, and seeing that the two churches, in\ntheir very conception infallible, each deny the authority of the other,\nHomiakov's doctrine of the church lost all its charm for him, and this\nedifice crumbled into dust like the philosophers' edifices.\n\nAll that spring he was not himself, and went through fearful moments of\nhorror.\n\n\"Without knowing what I am and why I am here, life's impossible; and\nthat I can't know, and so I can't live,\" Levin said to himself.\n\n\"In infinite time, in infinite matter, in infinite space, is formed a\nbubble-organism, and that bubble lasts a while and bursts, and that\nbubble is Me.\"\n\nIt was an agonizing error, but it was the sole logical result of ages of\nhuman thought in that direction.\n\nThis was the ultimate belief on which all the systems elaborated by\nhuman thought in almost all their ramifications rested. It was the\nprevalent conviction, and of all other explanations Levin had\nunconsciously, not knowing when or how, chosen it, as anyway the\nclearest, and made it his own.\n\nBut it was not merely a falsehood, it was the cruel jeer of some wicked\npower, some evil, hateful power, to whom one could not submit.\n\nHe must escape from this power. And the means of escape every man had in\nhis own hands. He had but to cut short this dependence on evil. And\nthere was one means--death.\n\nAnd Levin, a happy father and husband, in perfect health, was several\ntimes so near suicide that he hid the cord that he might not be tempted\nto hang himself, and was afraid to go out with his gun for fear of\nshooting himself.\n\nBut Levin did not shoot himself, and did not hang himself; he went on\nliving.\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\n\nWhen Levin thought what he was and what he was living for, he could find\nno answer to the questions and was reduced to despair, but he left off\nquestioning himself about it. It seemed as though he knew both what he\nwas and for what he was living, for he acted and lived resolutely and\nwithout hesitation. Indeed, in these latter days he was far more decided\nand unhesitating in life than he had ever been.\n\nWhen he went back to the country at the beginning of June, he went back\nalso to his usual pursuits. The management of the estate, his relations\nwith the peasants and the neighbors, the care of his household, the\nmanagement of his sister's and brother's property, of which he had the\ndirection, his relations with his wife and kindred, the care of his\nchild, and the new bee-keeping hobby he had taken up that spring, filled\nall his time.\n\nThese things occupied him now, not because he justified them to himself\nby any sort of general principles, as he had done in former days; on the\ncontrary, disappointed by the failure of his former efforts for the\ngeneral welfare, and too much occupied with his own thought and the mass\nof business with which he was burdened from all sides, he had completely\ngiven up thinking of the general good, and he busied himself with all\nthis work simply because it seemed to him that he must do what he was\ndoing--that he could not do otherwise. In former days--almost from\nchildhood, and increasingly up to full manhood--when he had tried to do\nanything that would be good for all, for humanity, for Russia, for the\nwhole village, he had noticed that the idea of it had been pleasant, but\nthe work itself had always been incoherent, that then he had never had a\nfull conviction of its absolute necessity, and that the work that had\nbegun by seeming so great, had grown less and less, till it vanished\ninto nothing. But now, since his marriage, when he had begun to confine\nhimself more and more to living for himself, though he experienced no\ndelight at all at the thought of the work he was doing, he felt a\ncomplete conviction of its necessity, saw that it succeeded far better\nthan in old days, and that it kept on growing more and more.\n\nNow, involuntarily it seemed, he cut more and more deeply into the soil\nlike a plough, so that he could not be drawn out without turning aside\nthe furrow.\n\nTo live the same family life as his father and forefathers--that is, in\nthe same condition of culture--and to bring up his children in the same,\nwas incontestably necessary. It was as necessary as dining when one was\nhungry. And to do this, just as it was necessary to cook dinner, it was\nnecessary to keep the mechanism of agriculture at Pokrovskoe going so as\nto yield an income. Just as incontestably as it was necessary to repay a\ndebt was it necessary to keep the property in such a condition that his\nson, when he received it as a heritage, would say \"thank you\" to his\nfather as Levin had said \"thank you\" to his grandfather for all he built\nand planted. And to do this it was necessary to look after the land\nhimself, not to let it, and to breed cattle, manure the fields, and\nplant timber.\n\nIt was impossible not to look after the affairs of Sergey Ivanovitch, of\nhis sister, of the peasants who came to him for advice and were\naccustomed to do so--as impossible as to fling down a child one is\ncarrying in one's arms. It was necessary to look after the comfort of\nhis sister-in-law and her children, and of his wife and baby, and it was\nimpossible not to spend with them at least a short time each day.\n\nAnd all this, together with shooting and his new bee-keeping, filled up\nthe whole of Levin's life, which had no meaning at all for him, when he\nbegan to think.\n\nBut besides knowing thoroughly what he had to do, Levin knew in just the\nsame way _how_ he had to do it all, and what was more important than the\nrest.\n\nHe knew he must hire laborers as cheaply as possible; but to hire men\nunder bond, paying them in advance at less than the current rate of\nwages, was what he must not do, even though it was very profitable.\nSelling straw to the peasants in times of scarcity of provender was what\nhe might do, even though he felt sorry for them; but the tavern and the\npothouse must be put down, though they were a source of income. Felling\ntimber must be punished as severely as possible, but he could not exact\nforfeits for cattle being driven onto his fields; and though it annoyed\nthe keeper and made the peasants not afraid to graze their cattle on his\nland, he could not keep their cattle as a punishment.\n\nTo Pyotr, who was paying a money-lender 10 per cent. a month, he must\nlend a sum of money to set him free. But he could not let off peasants\nwho did not pay their rent, nor let them fall into arrears. It was\nimpossible to overlook the bailiff's not having mown the meadows and\nletting the hay spoil; and it was equally impossible to mow those acres\nwhere a young copse had been planted. It was impossible to excuse a\nlaborer who had gone home in the busy season because his father was\ndying, however sorry he might feel for him, and he must subtract from\nhis pay those costly months of idleness. But it was impossible not to\nallow monthly rations to the old servants who were of no use for\nanything.\n\nLevin knew that when he got home he must first of all go to his wife,\nwho was unwell, and that the peasants who had been waiting for three\nhours to see him could wait a little longer. He knew too that,\nregardless of all the pleasure he felt in taking a swarm, he must forego\nthat pleasure, and leave the old man to see to the bees alone, while he\ntalked to the peasants who had come after him to the bee-house.\n\nWhether he were acting rightly or wrongly he did not know, and far from\ntrying to prove that he was, nowadays he avoided all thought or talk\nabout it.\n\nReasoning had brought him to doubt, and prevented him from seeing what\nhe ought to do and what he ought not. When he did not think, but simply\nlived, he was continually aware of the presence of an infallible judge\nin his soul, determining which of two possible courses of action was the\nbetter and which was the worse, and as soon as he did not act rightly,\nhe was at once aware of it.\n\nSo he lived, not knowing and not seeing any chance of knowing what he\nwas and what he was living for, and harassed at this lack of knowledge\nto such a point that he was afraid of suicide, and yet firmly laying\ndown his own individual definite path in life.\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\n\nThe day on which Sergey Ivanovitch came to Pokrovskoe was one of Levin's\nmost painful days. It was the very busiest working time, when all the\npeasantry show an extraordinary intensity of self-sacrifice in labor,\nsuch as is never shown in any other conditions of life, and would be\nhighly esteemed if the men who showed these qualities themselves thought\nhighly of them, and if it were not repeated every year, and if the\nresults of this intense labor were not so simple.\n\nTo reap and bind the rye and oats and to carry it, to mow the meadows,\nturn over the fallows, thrash the seed and sow the winter corn--all this\nseems so simple and ordinary; but to succeed in getting through it all\neveryone in the village, from the old man to the young child, must toil\nincessantly for three or four weeks, three times as hard as usual,\nliving on rye-beer, onions, and black bread, thrashing and carrying the\nsheaves at night, and not giving more than two or three hours in the\ntwenty-four to sleep. And every year this is done all over Russia.\n\nHaving lived the greater part of his life in the country and in the\nclosest relations with the peasants, Levin always felt in this busy time\nthat he was infected by this general quickening of energy in the people.\n\nIn the early morning he rode over to the first sowing of the rye, and to\nthe oats, which were being carried to the stacks, and returning home at\nthe time his wife and sister-in-law were getting up, he drank coffee\nwith them and walked to the farm, where a new thrashing machine was to\nbe set working to get ready the seed-corn.\n\nHe was standing in the cool granary, still fragrant with the leaves of\nthe hazel branches interlaced on the freshly peeled aspen beams of the\nnew thatch roof. He gazed through the open door in which the dry bitter\ndust of the thrashing whirled and played, at the grass of the thrashing\nfloor in the sunlight and the fresh straw that had been brought in from\nthe barn, then at the speckly-headed, white-breasted swallows that flew\nchirping in under the roof and, fluttering their wings, settled in the\ncrevices of the doorway, then at the peasants bustling in the dark,\ndusty barn, and he thought strange thoughts.\n\n\"Why is it all being done?\" he thought. \"Why am I standing here, making\nthem work? What are they all so busy for, trying to show their zeal\nbefore me? What is that old Matrona, my old friend, toiling for? (I\ndoctored her, when the beam fell on her in the fire)\" he thought,\nlooking at a thin old woman who was raking up the grain, moving\npainfully with her bare, sun-blackened feet over the uneven, rough\nfloor. \"Then she recovered, but today or tomorrow or in ten years she\nwon't; they'll bury her, and nothing will be left either of her or of\nthat smart girl in the red jacket, who with that skillful, soft action\nshakes the ears out of their husks. They'll bury her and this piebald\nhorse, and very soon too,\" he thought, gazing at the heavily moving,\npanting horse that kept walking up the wheel that turned under him. \"And\nthey will bury her and Fyodor the thrasher with his curly beard full of\nchaff and his shirt torn on his white shoulders--they will bury him.\nHe's untying the sheaves, and giving orders, and shouting to the women,\nand quickly setting straight the strap on the moving wheel. And what's\nmore, it's not them alone--me they'll bury too, and nothing will be\nleft. What for?\"\n\nHe thought this, and at the same time looked at his watch to reckon how\nmuch they thrashed in an hour. He wanted to know this so as to judge by\nit the task to set for the day.\n\n\"It'll soon be one, and they're only beginning the third sheaf,\" thought\nLevin. He went up to the man that was feeding the machine, and shouting\nover the roar of the machine he told him to put it in more slowly. \"You\nput in too much at a time, Fyodor. Do you see--it gets choked, that's\nwhy it isn't getting on. Do it evenly.\"\n\nFyodor, black with the dust that clung to his moist face, shouted\nsomething in response, but still went on doing it as Levin did not want\nhim to.\n\nLevin, going up to the machine, moved Fyodor aside, and began feeding\nthe corn in himself. Working on till the peasants' dinner hour, which\nwas not long in coming, he went out of the barn with Fyodor and fell\ninto talk with him, stopping beside a neat yellow sheaf of rye laid on\nthe thrashing floor for seed.\n\nFyodor came from a village at some distance from the one in which Levin\nhad once allotted land to his cooperative association. Now it had been\nlet to a former house porter.\n\nLevin talked to Fyodor about this land and asked whether Platon, a\nwell-to-do peasant of good character belonging to the same village,\nwould not take the land for the coming year.\n\n\"It's a high rent; it wouldn't pay Platon, Konstantin Dmitrievitch,\"\nanswered the peasant, picking the ears off his sweat-drenched shirt.\n\n\"But how does Kirillov make it pay?\"\n\n\"Mituh!\" (so the peasant called the house porter, in a tone of\ncontempt), \"you may be sure he'll make it pay, Konstantin Dmitrievitch!\nHe'll get his share, however he has to squeeze to get it! He's no mercy\non a Christian. But Uncle Fokanitch\" (so he called the old peasant\nPlaton), \"do you suppose he'd flay the skin off a man? Where there's\ndebt, he'll let anyone off. And he'll not wring the last penny out. He's\na man too.\"\n\n\"But why will he let anyone off?\"\n\n\"Oh, well, of course, folks are different. One man lives for his own\nwants and nothing else, like Mituh, he only thinks of filling his belly,\nbut Fokanitch is a righteous man. He lives for his soul. He does not\nforget God.\"\n\n\"How thinks of God? How does he live for his soul?\" Levin almost\nshouted.\n\n\"Why, to be sure, in truth, in God's way. Folks are different. Take you\nnow, you wouldn't wrong a man....\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, good-bye!\" said Levin, breathless with excitement, and\nturning round he took his stick and walked quickly away towards home. At\nthe peasant's words that Fokanitch lived for his soul, in truth, in\nGod's way, undefined but significant ideas seemed to burst out as though\nthey had been locked up, and all striving towards one goal, they\nthronged whirling through his head, blinding him with their light.\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\n\nLevin strode along the highroad, absorbed not so much in his thoughts\n(he could not yet disentangle them) as in his spiritual condition,\nunlike anything he had experienced before.\n\nThe words uttered by the peasant had acted on his soul like an electric\nshock, suddenly transforming and combining into a single whole the whole\nswarm of disjointed, impotent, separate thoughts that incessantly\noccupied his mind. These thoughts had unconsciously been in his mind\neven when he was talking about the land.\n\nHe was aware of something new in his soul, and joyfully tested this new\nthing, not yet knowing what it was.\n\n\"Not living for his own wants, but for God? For what God? And could one\nsay anything more senseless than what he said? He said that one must not\nlive for one's own wants, that is, that one must not live for what we\nunderstand, what we are attracted by, what we desire, but must live for\nsomething incomprehensible, for God, whom no one can understand nor even\ndefine. What of it? Didn't I understand those senseless words of\nFyodor's? And understanding them, did I doubt of their truth? Did I\nthink them stupid, obscure, inexact? No, I understood him, and exactly\nas he understands the words. I understood them more fully and clearly\nthan I understand anything in life, and never in my life have I doubted\nnor can I doubt about it. And not only I, but everyone, the whole world\nunderstands nothing fully but this, and about this only they have no\ndoubt and are always agreed.\n\n\"And I looked out for miracles, complained that I did not see a miracle\nwhich would convince me. A material miracle would have persuaded me. And\nhere is a miracle, the sole miracle possible, continually existing,\nsurrounding me on all sides, and I never noticed it!\n\n\"Fyodor says that Kirillov lives for his belly. That's comprehensible\nand rational. All of us as rational beings can't do anything else but\nlive for our belly. And all of a sudden the same Fyodor says that one\nmustn't live for one's belly, but must live for truth, for God, and at a\nhint I understand him! And I and millions of men, men who lived ages ago\nand men living now--peasants, the poor in spirit and the learned, who\nhave thought and written about it, in their obscure words saying the\nsame thing--we are all agreed about this one thing: what we must live\nfor and what is good. I and all men have only one firm, incontestable,\nclear knowledge, and that knowledge cannot be explained by the\nreason--it is outside it, and has no causes and can have no effects.\n\n\"If goodness has causes, it is not goodness; if it has effects, a\nreward, it is not goodness either. So goodness is outside the chain of\ncause and effect.\n\n\"And yet I know it, and we all know it.\n\n\"What could be a greater miracle than that?\n\n\"Can I have found the solution of it all? can my sufferings be over?\"\nthought Levin, striding along the dusty road, not noticing the heat nor\nhis weariness, and experiencing a sense of relief from prolonged\nsuffering. This feeling was so delicious that it seemed to him\nincredible. He was breathless with emotion and incapable of going\nfarther; he turned off the road into the forest and lay down in the\nshade of an aspen on the uncut grass. He took his hat off his hot head\nand lay propped on his elbow in the lush, feathery, woodland grass.\n\n\"Yes, I must make it clear to myself and understand,\" he thought,\nlooking intently at the untrampled grass before him, and following the\nmovements of a green beetle, advancing along a blade of couch-grass and\nlifting up in its progress a leaf of goat-weed. \"What have I\ndiscovered?\" he asked himself, bending aside the leaf of goat-weed out\nof the beetle's way and twisting another blade of grass above for the\nbeetle to cross over onto it. \"What is it makes me glad? What have I\ndiscovered?\n\n\"I have discovered nothing. I have only found out what I knew. I\nunderstand the force that in the past gave me life, and now too gives me\nlife. I have been set free from falsity, I have found the Master.\n\n\"Of old I used to say that in my body, that in the body of this grass\nand of this beetle (there, she didn't care for the grass, she's opened\nher wings and flown away), there was going on a transformation of matter\nin accordance with physical, chemical, and physiological laws. And in\nall of us, as well as in the aspens and the clouds and the misty\npatches, there was a process of evolution. Evolution from what? into\nwhat?--Eternal evolution and struggle.... As though there could be any\nsort of tendency and struggle in the eternal! And I was astonished that\nin spite of the utmost effort of thought along that road I could not\ndiscover the meaning of life, the meaning of my impulses and yearnings.\nNow I say that I know the meaning of my life: 'To live for God, for my\nsoul.' And this meaning, in spite of its clearness, is mysterious and\nmarvelous. Such, indeed, is the meaning of everything existing. Yes,\npride,\" he said to himself, turning over on his stomach and beginning to\ntie a noose of blades of grass, trying not to break them.\n\n\"And not merely pride of intellect, but dulness of intellect. And most\nof all, the deceitfulness; yes, the deceitfulness of intellect. The\ncheating knavishness of intellect, that's it,\" he said to himself.\n\nAnd he briefly went through, mentally, the whole course of his ideas\nduring the last two years, the beginning of which was the clear\nconfronting of death at the sight of his dear brother hopelessly ill.\n\nThen, for the first time, grasping that for every man, and himself too,\nthere was nothing in store but suffering, death, and forgetfulness, he\nhad made up his mind that life was impossible like that, and that he\nmust either interpret life so that it would not present itself to him as\nthe evil jest of some devil, or shoot himself.\n\nBut he had not done either, but had gone on living, thinking, and\nfeeling, and had even at that very time married, and had had many joys\nand had been happy, when he was not thinking of the meaning of his life.\n\nWhat did this mean? It meant that he had been living rightly, but\nthinking wrongly.\n\nHe had lived (without being aware of it) on those spiritual truths that\nhe had sucked in with his mother's milk, but he had thought, not merely\nwithout recognition of these truths, but studiously ignoring them.\n\nNow it was clear to him that he could only live by virtue of the beliefs\nin which he had been brought up.\n\n\"What should I have been, and how should I have spent my life, if I had\nnot had these beliefs, if I had not known that I must live for God and\nnot for my own desires? I should have robbed and lied and killed.\nNothing of what makes the chief happiness of my life would have existed\nfor me.\" And with the utmost stretch of imagination he could not\nconceive the brutal creature he would have been himself, if he had not\nknown what he was living for.\n\n\"I looked for an answer to my question. And thought could not give an\nanswer to my question--it is incommensurable with my question. The\nanswer has been given me by life itself, in my knowledge of what is\nright and what is wrong. And that knowledge I did not arrive at in any\nway, it was given to me as to all men, _given_, because I could not have\ngot it from anywhere.\n\n\"Where could I have got it? By reason could I have arrived at knowing\nthat I must love my neighbor and not oppress him? I was told that in my\nchildhood, and I believed it gladly, for they told me what was already\nin my soul. But who discovered it? Not reason. Reason discovered the\nstruggle for existence, and the law that requires us to oppress all who\nhinder the satisfaction of our desires. That is the deduction of reason.\nBut loving one's neighbor reason could never discover, because it's\nirrational.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\n\nAnd Levin remembered a scene he had lately witnessed between Dolly and\nher children. The children, left to themselves, had begun cooking\nraspberries over the candles and squirting milk into each other's mouths\nwith a syringe. Their mother, catching them at these pranks, began\nreminding them in Levin's presence of the trouble their mischief gave to\nthe grown-up people, and that this trouble was all for their sake, and\nthat if they smashed the cups they would have nothing to drink their tea\nout of, and that if they wasted the milk, they would have nothing to\neat, and die of hunger.\n\nAnd Levin had been struck by the passive, weary incredulity with which\nthe children heard what their mother said to them. They were simply\nannoyed that their amusing play had been interrupted, and did not\nbelieve a word of what their mother was saying. They could not believe\nit indeed, for they could not take in the immensity of all they\nhabitually enjoyed, and so could not conceive that what they were\ndestroying was the very thing they lived by.\n\n\"That all comes of itself,\" they thought, \"and there's nothing\ninteresting or important about it because it has always been so, and\nalways will be so. And it's all always the same. We've no need to think\nabout that, it's all ready. But we want to invent something of our own,\nand new. So we thought of putting raspberries in a cup, and cooking them\nover a candle, and squirting milk straight into each other's mouths.\nThat's fun, and something new, and not a bit worse than drinking out of\ncups.\"\n\n\"Isn't it just the same that we do, that I did, searching by the aid of\nreason for the significance of the forces of nature and the meaning of\nthe life of man?\" he thought.\n\n\"And don't all the theories of philosophy do the same, trying by the\npath of thought, which is strange and not natural to man, to bring him\nto a knowledge of what he has known long ago, and knows so certainly\nthat he could not live at all without it? Isn't it distinctly to be seen\nin the development of each philosopher's theory, that he knows what is\nthe chief significance of life beforehand, just as positively as the\npeasant Fyodor, and not a bit more clearly than he, and is simply trying\nby a dubious intellectual path to come back to what everyone knows?\n\n\"Now then, leave the children to themselves to get things alone and make\ntheir crockery, get the milk from the cows, and so on. Would they be\nnaughty then? Why, they'd die of hunger! Well, then, leave us with our\npassions and thoughts, without any idea of the one God, of the Creator,\nor without any idea of what is right, without any idea of moral evil.\n\n\"Just try and build up anything without those ideas!\n\n\"We only try to destroy them, because we're spiritually provided for.\nExactly like the children!\n\n\"Whence have I that joyful knowledge, shared with the peasant, that\nalone gives peace to my soul? Whence did I get it?\n\n\"Brought up with an idea of God, a Christian, my whole life filled with\nthe spiritual blessings Christianity has given me, full of them, and\nliving on those blessings, like the children I did not understand them,\nand destroy, that is try to destroy, what I live by. And as soon as an\nimportant moment of life comes, like the children when they are cold and\nhungry, I turn to Him, and even less than the children when their mother\nscolds them for their childish mischief, do I feel that my childish\nefforts at wanton madness are reckoned against me.\n\n\"Yes, what I know, I know not by reason, but it has been given to me,\nrevealed to me, and I know it with my heart, by faith in the chief thing\ntaught by the church.\n\n\"The church! the church!\" Levin repeated to himself. He turned over on\nthe other side, and leaning on his elbow, fell to gazing into the\ndistance at a herd of cattle crossing over to the river.\n\n\"But can I believe in all the church teaches?\" he thought, trying\nhimself, and thinking of everything that could destroy his present peace\nof mind. Intentionally he recalled all those doctrines of the church\nwhich had always seemed most strange and had always been a stumbling\nblock to him.\n\n\"The Creation? But how did I explain existence? By existence? By\nnothing? The devil and sin. But how do I explain evil?... The\natonement?...\n\n\"But I know nothing, nothing, and I can know nothing but what has been\ntold to me and all men.\"\n\nAnd it seemed to him that there was not a single article of faith of the\nchurch which could destroy the chief thing--faith in God, in goodness,\nas the one goal of man's destiny.\n\nUnder every article of faith of the church could be put the faith in the\nservice of truth instead of one's desires. And each doctrine did not\nsimply leave that faith unshaken, each doctrine seemed essential to\ncomplete that great miracle, continually manifest upon earth, that made\nit possible for each man and millions of different sorts of men, wise\nmen and imbeciles, old men and children--all men, peasants, Lvov, Kitty,\nbeggars and kings to understand perfectly the same one thing, and to\nbuild up thereby that life of the soul which alone is worth living, and\nwhich alone is precious to us.\n\nLying on his back, he gazed up now into the high, cloudless sky. \"Do I\nnot know that that is infinite space, and that it is not a round arch?\nBut, however I screw up my eyes and strain my sight, I cannot see it not\nround and not bounded, and in spite of my knowing about infinite space,\nI am incontestably right when I see a solid blue dome, and more right\nthan when I strain my eyes to see beyond it.\"\n\nLevin ceased thinking, and only, as it were, listened to mysterious\nvoices that seemed talking joyfully and earnestly within him.\n\n\"Can this be faith?\" he thought, afraid to believe in his happiness. \"My\nGod, I thank Thee!\" he said, gulping down his sobs, and with both hands\nbrushing away the tears that filled his eyes.\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\n\nLevin looked before him and saw a herd of cattle, then he caught sight\nof his trap with Raven in the shafts, and the coachman, who, driving up\nto the herd, said something to the herdsman. Then he heard the rattle of\nthe wheels and the snort of the sleek horse close by him. But he was so\nburied in his thoughts that he did not even wonder why the coachman had\ncome for him.\n\nHe only thought of that when the coachman had driven quite up to him and\nshouted to him. \"The mistress sent me. Your brother has come, and some\ngentleman with him.\"\n\nLevin got into the trap and took the reins. As though just roused out of\nsleep, for a long while Levin could not collect his faculties. He stared\nat the sleek horse flecked with lather between his haunches and on his\nneck, where the harness rubbed, stared at Ivan the coachman sitting\nbeside him, and remembered that he was expecting his brother, thought\nthat his wife was most likely uneasy at his long absence, and tried to\nguess who was the visitor who had come with his brother. And his brother\nand his wife and the unknown guest seemed to him now quite different\nfrom before. He fancied that now his relations with all men would be\ndifferent.\n\n\"With my brother there will be none of that aloofness there always used\nto be between us, there will be no disputes; with Kitty there shall\nnever be quarrels; with the visitor, whoever he may be, I will be\nfriendly and nice; with the servants, with Ivan, it will all be\ndifferent.\"\n\nPulling the stiff rein and holding in the good horse that snorted with\nimpatience and seemed begging to be let go, Levin looked round at Ivan\nsitting beside him, not knowing what to do with his unoccupied hand,\ncontinually pressing down his shirt as it puffed out, and he tried to\nfind something to start a conversation about with him. He would have\nsaid that Ivan had pulled the saddle-girth up too high, but that was\nlike blame, and he longed for friendly, warm talk. Nothing else occurred\nto him.\n\n\"Your honor must keep to the right and mind that stump,\" said the\ncoachman, pulling the rein Levin held.\n\n\"Please don't touch and don't teach me!\" said Levin, angered by this\ninterference. Now, as always, interference made him angry, and he felt\nsorrowfully at once how mistaken had been his supposition that his\nspiritual condition could immediately change him in contact with\nreality.\n\nHe was not a quarter of a mile from home when he saw Grisha and Tanya\nrunning to meet him.\n\n\"Uncle Kostya! mamma's coming, and grandfather, and Sergey Ivanovitch,\nand someone else,\" they said, clambering up into the trap.\n\n\"Who is he?\"\n\n\"An awfully terrible person! And he does like this with his arms,\" said\nTanya, getting up in the trap and mimicking Katavasov.\n\n\"Old or young?\" asked Levin, laughing, reminded of someone, he did not\nknow whom, by Tanya's performance.\n\n\"Oh, I hope it's not a tiresome person!\" thought Levin.\n\nAs soon as he turned, at a bend in the road, and saw the party coming,\nLevin recognized Katavasov in a straw hat, walking along swinging his\narms just as Tanya had shown him. Katavasov was very fond of discussing\nmetaphysics, having derived his notions from natural science writers who\nhad never studied metaphysics, and in Moscow Levin had had many\narguments with him of late.\n\nAnd one of these arguments, in which Katavasov had obviously considered\nthat he came off victorious, was the first thing Levin thought of as he\nrecognized him.\n\n\"No, whatever I do, I won't argue and give utterance to my ideas\nlightly,\" he thought.\n\nGetting out of the trap and greeting his brother and Katavasov, Levin\nasked about his wife.\n\n\"She has taken Mitya to Kolok\" (a copse near the house). \"She meant to\nhave him out there because it's so hot indoors,\" said Dolly. Levin had\nalways advised his wife not to take the baby to the wood, thinking it\nunsafe, and he was not pleased to hear this.\n\n\"She rushes about from place to place with him,\" said the prince,\nsmiling. \"I advised her to try putting him in the ice cellar.\"\n\n\"She meant to come to the bee house. She thought you would be there. We\nare going there,\" said Dolly.\n\n\"Well, and what are you doing?\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, falling back\nfrom the rest and walking beside him.\n\n\"Oh, nothing special. Busy as usual with the land,\" answered Levin.\n\"Well, and what about you? Come for long? We have been expecting you for\nsuch a long time.\"\n\n\"Only for a fortnight. I've a great deal to do in Moscow.\"\n\nAt these words the brothers' eyes met, and Levin, in spite of the desire\nhe always had, stronger than ever just now, to be on affectionate and\nstill more open terms with his brother, felt an awkwardness in looking\nat him. He dropped his eyes and did not know what to say.\n\nCasting over the subjects of conversation that would be pleasant to\nSergey Ivanovitch, and would keep him off the subject of the Servian war\nand the Slavonic question, at which he had hinted by the allusion to\nwhat he had to do in Moscow, Levin began to talk of Sergey Ivanovitch's\nbook.\n\n\"Well, have there been reviews of your book?\" he asked.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch smiled at the intentional character of the question.\n\n\"No one is interested in that now, and I less than anyone,\" he said.\n\"Just look, Darya Alexandrovna, we shall have a shower,\" he added,\npointing with a sunshade at the white rain clouds that showed above the\naspen tree-tops.\n\nAnd these words were enough to re-establish again between the brothers\nthat tone--hardly hostile, but chilly--which Levin had been so longing\nto avoid.\n\nLevin went up to Katavasov.\n\n\"It was jolly of you to make up your mind to come,\" he said to him.\n\n\"I've been meaning to a long while. Now we shall have some discussion,\nwe'll see to that. Have you been reading Spencer?\"\n\n\"No, I've not finished reading him,\" said Levin. \"But I don't need him\nnow.\"\n\n\"How's that? that's interesting. Why so?\"\n\n\"I mean that I'm fully convinced that the solution of the problems that\ninterest me I shall never find in him and his like. Now...\"\n\nBut Katavasov's serene and good-humored expression suddenly struck him,\nand he felt such tenderness for his own happy mood, which he was\nunmistakably disturbing by this conversation, that he remembered his\nresolution and stopped short.\n\n\"But we'll talk later on,\" he added. \"If we're going to the bee house,\nit's this way, along this little path,\" he said, addressing them all.\n\nGoing along the narrow path to a little uncut meadow covered on one side\nwith thick clumps of brilliant heart's-ease among which stood up here\nand there tall, dark green tufts of hellebore, Levin settled his guests\nin the dense, cool shade of the young aspens on a bench and some stumps\npurposely put there for visitors to the bee house who might be afraid of\nthe bees, and he went off himself to the hut to get bread, cucumbers,\nand fresh honey, to regale them with.\n\nTrying to make his movements as deliberate as possible, and listening to\nthe bees that buzzed more and more frequently past him, he walked along\nthe little path to the hut. In the very entry one bee hummed angrily,\ncaught in his beard, but he carefully extricated it. Going into the\nshady outer room, he took down from the wall his veil, that hung on a\npeg, and putting it on, and thrusting his hands into his pockets, he\nwent into the fenced-in bee-garden, where there stood in the midst of a\nclosely mown space in regular rows, fastened with bast on posts, all the\nhives he knew so well, the old stocks, each with its own history, and\nalong the fences the younger swarms hived that year. In front of the\nopenings of the hives, it made his eyes giddy to watch the bees and\ndrones whirling round and round about the same spot, while among them\nthe working bees flew in and out with spoils or in search of them,\nalways in the same direction into the wood to the flowering lime trees\nand back to the hives.\n\nHis ears were filled with the incessant hum in various notes, now the\nbusy hum of the working bee flying quickly off, then the blaring of the\nlazy drone, and the excited buzz of the bees on guard protecting their\nproperty from the enemy and preparing to sting. On the farther side of\nthe fence the old bee-keeper was shaving a hoop for a tub, and he did\nnot see Levin. Levin stood still in the midst of the beehives and did\nnot call him.\n\nHe was glad of a chance to be alone to recover from the influence of\nordinary actual life, which had already depressed his happy mood. He\nthought that he had already had time to lose his temper with Ivan, to\nshow coolness to his brother, and to talk flippantly with Katavasov.\n\n\"Can it have been only a momentary mood, and will it pass and leave no\ntrace?\" he thought. But the same instant, going back to his mood, he\nfelt with delight that something new and important had happened to him.\nReal life had only for a time overcast the spiritual peace he had found,\nbut it was still untouched within him.\n\nJust as the bees, whirling round him, now menacing him and distracting\nhis attention, prevented him from enjoying complete physical peace,\nforced him to restrain his movements to avoid them, so had the petty\ncares that had swarmed about him from the moment he got into the trap\nrestricted his spiritual freedom; but that lasted only so long as he was\namong them. Just as his bodily strength was still unaffected, in spite\nof the bees, so too was the spiritual strength that he had just become\naware of.\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\n\n\"Do you know, Kostya, with whom Sergey Ivanovitch traveled on his way\nhere?\" said Dolly, doling out cucumbers and honey to the children; \"with\nVronsky! He's going to Servia.\"\n\n\"And not alone; he's taking a squadron out with him at his own expense,\"\nsaid Katavasov.\n\n\"That's the right thing for him,\" said Levin. \"Are volunteers still\ngoing out then?\" he added, glancing at Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\nSergey Ivanovitch did not answer. He was carefully with a blunt knife\ngetting a live bee covered with sticky honey out of a cup full of white\nhoneycomb.\n\n\"I should think so! You should have seen what was going on at the\nstation yesterday!\" said Katavasov, biting with a juicy sound into a\ncucumber.\n\n\"Well, what is one to make of it? For mercy's sake, do explain to me,\nSergey Ivanovitch, where are all those volunteers going, whom are they\nfighting with?\" asked the old prince, unmistakably taking up a\nconversation that had sprung up in Levin's absence.\n\n\"With the Turks,\" Sergey Ivanovitch answered, smiling serenely, as he\nextricated the bee, dark with honey and helplessly kicking, and put it\nwith the knife on a stout aspen leaf.\n\n\"But who has declared war on the Turks?--Ivan Ivanovitch Ragozov and\nCountess Lidia Ivanovna, assisted by Madame Stahl?\"\n\n\"No one has declared war, but people sympathize with their neighbors'\nsufferings and are eager to help them,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"But the prince is not speaking of help,\" said Levin, coming to the\nassistance of his father-in-law, \"but of war. The prince says that\nprivate persons cannot take part in war without the permission of the\ngovernment.\"\n\n\"Kostya, mind, that's a bee! Really, they'll sting us!\" said Dolly,\nwaving away a wasp.\n\n\"But that's not a bee, it's a wasp,\" said Levin.\n\n\"Well now, well, what's your own theory?\" Katavasov said to Levin with a\nsmile, distinctly challenging him to a discussion. \"Why have not private\npersons the right to do so?\"\n\n\"Oh, my theory's this: war is on one side such a beastly, cruel, and\nawful thing, that no one man, not to speak of a Christian, can\nindividually take upon himself the responsibility of beginning wars;\nthat can only be done by a government, which is called upon to do this,\nand is driven inevitably into war. On the other hand, both political\nscience and common sense teach us that in matters of state, and\nespecially in the matter of war, private citizens must forego their\npersonal individual will.\"\n\nSergey Ivanovitch and Katavasov had their replies ready, and both began\nspeaking at the same time.\n\n\"But the point is, my dear fellow, that there may be cases when the\ngovernment does not carry out the will of the citizens and then the\npublic asserts its will,\" said Katavasov.\n\nBut evidently Sergey Ivanovitch did not approve of this answer. His\nbrows contracted at Katavasov's words and he said something else.\n\n\"You don't put the matter in its true light. There is no question here\nof a declaration of war, but simply the expression of a human Christian\nfeeling. Our brothers, one with us in religion and in race, are being\nmassacred. Even supposing they were not our brothers nor\nfellow-Christians, but simply children, women, old people, feeling is\naroused and Russians go eagerly to help in stopping these atrocities.\nFancy, if you were going along the street and saw drunken men beating a\nwoman or a child--I imagine you would not stop to inquire whether war\nhad been declared on the men, but would throw yourself on them, and\nprotect the victim.\"\n\n\"But I should not kill them,\" said Levin.\n\n\"Yes, you would kill them.\"\n\n\"I don't know. If I saw that, I might give way to my impulse of the\nmoment, but I can't say beforehand. And such a momentary impulse there\nis not, and there cannot be, in the case of the oppression of the\nSlavonic peoples.\"\n\n\"Possibly for you there is not; but for others there is,\" said Sergey\nIvanovitch, frowning with displeasure. \"There are traditions still\nextant among the people of Slavs of the true faith suffering under the\nyoke of the 'unclean sons of Hagar.' The people have heard of the\nsufferings of their brethren and have spoken.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" said Levin evasively; \"but I don't see it. I'm one of the\npeople myself, and I don't feel it.\"\n\n\"Here am I too,\" said the old prince. \"I've been staying abroad and\nreading the papers, and I must own, up to the time of the Bulgarian\natrocities, I couldn't make out why it was all the Russians were all of\na sudden so fond of their Slavonic brethren, while I didn't feel the\nslightest affection for them. I was very much upset, thought I was a\nmonster, or that it was the influence of Carlsbad on me. But since I\nhave been here, my mind's been set at rest. I see that there are people\nbesides me who're only interested in Russia, and not in their Slavonic\nbrethren. Here's Konstantin too.\"\n\n\"Personal opinions mean nothing in such a case,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch;\n\"it's not a matter of personal opinions when all Russia--the whole\npeople--has expressed its will.\"\n\n\"But excuse me, I don't see that. The people don't know anything about\nit, if you come to that,\" said the old prince.\n\n\"Oh, papa!... how can you say that? And last Sunday in church?\" said\nDolly, listening to the conversation. \"Please give me a cloth,\" she said\nto the old man, who was looking at the children with a smile. \"Why, it's\nnot possible that all...\"\n\n\"But what was it in church on Sunday? The priest had been told to read\nthat. He read it. They didn't understand a word of it. Then they were\ntold that there was to be a collection for a pious object in church;\nwell, they pulled out their halfpence and gave them, but what for they\ncouldn't say.\"\n\n\"The people cannot help knowing; the sense of their own destinies is\nalways in the people, and at such moments as the present that sense\nfinds utterance,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch with conviction, glancing at\nthe old bee-keeper.\n\nThe handsome old man, with black grizzled beard and thick silvery hair,\nstood motionless, holding a cup of honey, looking down from the height\nof his tall figure with friendly serenity at the gentlefolk, obviously\nunderstanding nothing of their conversation and not caring to understand\nit.\n\n\"That's so, no doubt,\" he said, with a significant shake of his head at\nSergey Ivanovitch's words.\n\n\"Here, then, ask him. He knows nothing about it and thinks nothing,\"\nsaid Levin. \"Have you heard about the war, Mihalitch?\" he said, turning\nto him. \"What they read in the church? What do you think about it? Ought\nwe to fight for the Christians?\"\n\n\"What should we think? Alexander Nikolaevitch our Emperor has thought\nfor us; he thinks for us indeed in all things. It's clearer for him to\nsee. Shall I bring a bit more bread? Give the little lad some more?\" he\nsaid addressing Darya Alexandrovna and pointing to Grisha, who had\nfinished his crust.\n\n\"I don't need to ask,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, \"we have seen and are\nseeing hundreds and hundreds of people who give up everything to serve a\njust cause, come from every part of Russia, and directly and clearly\nexpress their thought and aim. They bring their halfpence or go\nthemselves and say directly what for. What does it mean?\"\n\n\"It means, to my thinking,\" said Levin, who was beginning to get warm,\n\"that among eighty millions of people there can always be found not\nhundreds, as now, but tens of thousands of people who have lost caste,\nne'er-do-wells, who are always ready to go anywhere--to Pogatchev's\nbands, to Khiva, to Serbia...\"\n\n\"I tell you that it's not a case of hundreds or of ne'er-do-wells, but\nthe best representatives of the people!\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, with as\nmuch irritation as if he were defending the last penny of his fortune.\n\"And what of the subscriptions? In this case it is a whole people\ndirectly expressing their will.\"\n\n\"That word 'people' is so vague,\" said Levin. \"Parish clerks, teachers,\nand one in a thousand of the peasants, maybe, know what it's all about.\nThe rest of the eighty millions, like Mihalitch, far from expressing\ntheir will, haven't the faintest idea what there is for them to express\ntheir will about. What right have we to say that this is the people's\nwill?\"\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\n\nSergey Ivanovitch, being practiced in argument, did not reply, but at\nonce turned the conversation to another aspect of the subject.\n\n\"Oh, if you want to learn the spirit of the people by arithmetical\ncomputation, of course it's very difficult to arrive at it. And voting\nhas not been introduced among us and cannot be introduced, for it does\nnot express the will of the people; but there are other ways of reaching\nthat. It is felt in the air, it is felt by the heart. I won't speak of\nthose deep currents which are astir in the still ocean of the people,\nand which are evident to every unprejudiced man; let us look at society\nin the narrow sense. All the most diverse sections of the educated\npublic, hostile before, are merged in one. Every division is at an end,\nall the public organs say the same thing over and over again, all feel\nthe mighty torrent that has overtaken them and is carrying them in one\ndirection.\"\n\n\"Yes, all the newspapers do say the same thing,\" said the prince.\n\"That's true. But so it is the same thing that all the frogs croak\nbefore a storm. One can hear nothing for them.\"\n\n\"Frogs or no frogs, I'm not the editor of a paper and I don't want to\ndefend them; but I am speaking of the unanimity in the intellectual\nworld,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch, addressing his brother. Levin would have\nanswered, but the old prince interrupted him.\n\n\"Well, about that unanimity, that's another thing, one may say,\" said\nthe prince. \"There's my son-in-law, Stepan Arkadyevitch, you know him.\nHe's got a place now on the committee of a commission and something or\nother, I don't remember. Only there's nothing to do in it--why, Dolly,\nit's no secret!--and a salary of eight thousand. You try asking him\nwhether his post is of use, he'll prove to you that it's most necessary.\nAnd he's a truthful man too, but there's no refusing to believe in the\nutility of eight thousand roubles.\"\n\n\"Yes, he asked me to give a message to Darya Alexandrovna about the\npost,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch reluctantly, feeling the prince's remark\nto be ill-timed.\n\n\"So it is with the unanimity of the press. That's been explained to me:\nas soon as there's war their incomes are doubled. How can they help\nbelieving in the destinies of the people and the Slavonic races ... and\nall that?\"\n\n\"I don't care for many of the papers, but that's unjust,\" said Sergey\nIvanovitch.\n\n\"I would only make one condition,\" pursued the old prince. \"Alphonse\nKarr said a capital thing before the war with Prussia: 'You consider war\nto be inevitable? Very good. Let everyone who advocates war be enrolled\nin a special regiment of advance-guards, for the front of every storm,\nof every attack, to lead them all!'\"\n\n\"A nice lot the editors would make!\" said Katavasov, with a loud roar,\nas he pictured the editors he knew in this picked legion.\n\n\"But they'd run,\" said Dolly, \"they'd only be in the way.\"\n\n\"Oh, if they ran away, then we'd have grape-shot or Cossacks with whips\nbehind them,\" said the prince.\n\n\"But that's a joke, and a poor one too, if you'll excuse my saying so,\nprince,\" said Sergey Ivanovitch.\n\n\"I don't see that it was a joke, that...\" Levin was beginning, but\nSergey Ivanovitch interrupted him.\n\n\"Every member of society is called upon to do his own special work,\"\nsaid he. \"And men of thought are doing their work when they express\npublic opinion. And the single-hearted and full expression of public\nopinion is the service of the press and a phenomenon to rejoice us at\nthe same time. Twenty years ago we should have been silent, but now we\nhave heard the voice of the Russian people, which is ready to rise as\none man and ready to sacrifice itself for its oppressed brethren; that\nis a great step and a proof of strength.\"\n\n\"But it's not only making a sacrifice, but killing Turks,\" said Levin\ntimidly. \"The people make sacrifices and are ready to make sacrifices\nfor their soul, but not for murder,\" he added, instinctively connecting\nthe conversation with the ideas that had been absorbing his mind.\n\n\"For their soul? That's a most puzzling expression for a natural science\nman, do you understand? What sort of thing is the soul?\" said Katavasov,\nsmiling.\n\n\"Oh, you know!\"\n\n\"No, by God, I haven't the faintest idea!\" said Katavasov with a loud\nroar of laughter.\n\n\"'I bring not peace, but a sword,' says Christ,\" Sergey Ivanovitch\nrejoined for his part, quoting as simply as though it were the easiest\nthing to understand the very passage that had always puzzled Levin most.\n\n\"That's so, no doubt,\" the old man repeated again. He was standing near\nthem and responded to a chance glance turned in his direction.\n\n\"Ah, my dear fellow, you're defeated, utterly defeated!\" cried Katavasov\ngood-humoredly.\n\nLevin reddened with vexation, not at being defeated, but at having\nfailed to control himself and being drawn into argument.\n\n\"No, I can't argue with them,\" he thought; \"they wear impenetrable\narmor, while I'm naked.\"\n\nHe saw that it was impossible to convince his brother and Katavasov, and\nhe saw even less possibility of himself agreeing with them. What they\nadvocated was the very pride of intellect that had almost been his ruin.\nHe could not admit that some dozens of men, among them his brother, had\nthe right, on the ground of what they were told by some hundreds of glib\nvolunteers swarming to the capital, to say that they and the newspapers\nwere expressing the will and feeling of the people, and a feeling which\nwas expressed in vengeance and murder. He could not admit this, because\nhe neither saw the expression of such feelings in the people among whom\nhe was living, nor found them in himself (and he could not but consider\nhimself one of the persons making up the Russian people), and most of\nall because he, like the people, did not know and could not know what is\nfor the general good, though he knew beyond a doubt that this general\ngood could be attained only by the strict observance of that law of\nright and wrong which has been revealed to every man, and therefore he\ncould not wish for war or advocate war for any general objects whatever.\nHe said as Mihalitch did and the people, who had expressed their feeling\nin the traditional invitations of the Varyagi: \"Be princes and rule over\nus. Gladly we promise complete submission. All the labor, all\nhumiliations, all sacrifices we take upon ourselves; but we will not\njudge and decide.\" And now, according to Sergey Ivanovitch's account,\nthe people had foregone this privilege they had bought at such a costly\nprice.\n\nHe wanted to say too that if public opinion were an infallible guide,\nthen why were not revolutions and the commune as lawful as the movement\nin favor of the Slavonic peoples? But these were merely thoughts that\ncould settle nothing. One thing could be seen beyond doubt--that was\nthat at the actual moment the discussion was irritating Sergey\nIvanovitch, and so it was wrong to continue it. And Levin ceased\nspeaking and then called the attention of his guests to the fact that\nthe storm clouds were gathering, and that they had better be going home\nbefore it rained.\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\n\nThe old prince and Sergey Ivanovitch got into the trap and drove off;\nthe rest of the party hastened homewards on foot.\n\nBut the storm-clouds, turning white and then black, moved down so\nquickly that they had to quicken their pace to get home before the rain.\nThe foremost clouds, lowering and black as soot-laden smoke, rushed with\nextraordinary swiftness over the sky. They were still two hundred paces\nfrom home and a gust of wind had already blown up, and every second the\ndownpour might be looked for.\n\nThe children ran ahead with frightened and gleeful shrieks. Darya\nAlexandrovna, struggling painfully with her skirts that clung round her\nlegs, was not walking, but running, her eyes fixed on the children. The\nmen of the party, holding their hats on, strode with long steps beside\nher. They were just at the steps when a big drop fell splashing on the\nedge of the iron guttering. The children and their elders after them ran\ninto the shelter of the house, talking merrily.\n\n\"Katerina Alexandrovna?\" Levin asked of Agafea Mihalovna, who met them\nwith kerchiefs and rugs in the hall.\n\n\"We thought she was with you,\" she said.\n\n\"And Mitya?\"\n\n\"In the copse, he must be, and the nurse with him.\"\n\nLevin snatched up the rugs and ran towards the copse.\n\nIn that brief interval of time the storm clouds had moved on, covering\nthe sun so completely that it was dark as an eclipse. Stubbornly, as\nthough insisting on its rights, the wind stopped Levin, and tearing the\nleaves and flowers off the lime trees and stripping the white birch\nbranches into strange unseemly nakedness, it twisted everything on one\nside--acacias, flowers, burdocks, long grass, and tall tree-tops. The\npeasant girls working in the garden ran shrieking into shelter in the\nservants' quarters. The streaming rain had already flung its white veil\nover all the distant forest and half the fields close by, and was\nrapidly swooping down upon the copse. The wet of the rain spurting up in\ntiny drops could be smelt in the air.\n\nHolding his head bent down before him, and struggling with the wind that\nstrove to tear the wraps away from him, Levin was moving up to the copse\nand had just caught sight of something white behind the oak tree, when\nthere was a sudden flash, the whole earth seemed on fire, and the vault\nof heaven seemed crashing overhead. Opening his blinded eyes, Levin\ngazed through the thick veil of rain that separated him now from the\ncopse, and to his horror the first thing he saw was the green crest of\nthe familiar oak-tree in the middle of the copse uncannily changing its\nposition. \"Can it have been struck?\" Levin hardly had time to think\nwhen, moving more and more rapidly, the oak tree vanished behind the\nother trees, and he heard the crash of the great tree falling upon the\nothers.\n\nThe flash of lightning, the crash of thunder, and the instantaneous\nchill that ran through him were all merged for Levin in one sense of\nterror.\n\n\"My God! my God! not on them!\" he said.\n\nAnd though he thought at once how senseless was his prayer that they\nshould not have been killed by the oak which had fallen now, he repeated\nit, knowing that he could do nothing better than utter this senseless\nprayer.\n\nRunning up to the place where they usually went, he did not find them\nthere.\n\nThey were at the other end of the copse under an old lime-tree; they\nwere calling him. Two figures in dark dresses (they had been light\nsummer dresses when they started out) were standing bending over\nsomething. It was Kitty with the nurse. The rain was already ceasing,\nand it was beginning to get light when Levin reached them. The nurse was\nnot wet on the lower part of her dress, but Kitty was drenched through,\nand her soaked clothes clung to her. Though the rain was over, they\nstill stood in the same position in which they had been standing when\nthe storm broke. Both stood bending over a perambulator with a green\numbrella.\n\n\"Alive? Unhurt? Thank God!\" he said, splashing with his soaked boots\nthrough the standing water and running up to them.\n\nKitty's rosy wet face was turned towards him, and she smiled timidly\nunder her shapeless sopped hat.\n\n\"Aren't you ashamed of yourself? I can't think how you can be so\nreckless!\" he said angrily to his wife.\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, really. We were just meaning to go, when he made\nsuch a to-do that we had to change him. We were just...\" Kitty began\ndefending herself.\n\nMitya was unharmed, dry, and still fast asleep.\n\n\"Well, thank God! I don't know what I'm saying!\"\n\nThey gathered up the baby's wet belongings; the nurse picked up the baby\nand carried it. Levin walked beside his wife, and, penitent for having\nbeen angry, he squeezed her hand when the nurse was not looking.\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\n\nDuring the whole of that day, in the extremely different conversations\nin which he took part, only as it were with the top layer of his mind,\nin spite of the disappointment of not finding the change he expected in\nhimself, Levin had been all the while joyfully conscious of the fulness\nof his heart.\n\nAfter the rain it was too wet to go for a walk; besides, the storm\nclouds still hung about the horizon, and gathered here and there, black\nand thundery, on the rim of the sky. The whole party spent the rest of\nthe day in the house.\n\nNo more discussions sprang up; on the contrary, after dinner every one\nwas in the most amiable frame of mind.\n\nAt first Katavasov amused the ladies by his original jokes, which always\npleased people on their first acquaintance with him. Then Sergey\nIvanovitch induced him to tell them about the very interesting\nobservations he had made on the habits and characteristics of common\nhouseflies, and their life. Sergey Ivanovitch, too, was in good spirits,\nand at tea his brother drew him on to explain his views of the future of\nthe Eastern question, and he spoke so simply and so well, that everyone\nlistened eagerly.\n\nKitty was the only one who did not hear it all--she was summoned to give\nMitya his bath.\n\nA few minutes after Kitty had left the room she sent for Levin to come\nto the nursery.\n\nLeaving his tea, and regretfully interrupting the interesting\nconversation, and at the same time uneasily wondering why he had been\nsent for, as this only happened on important occasions, Levin went to\nthe nursery.\n\nAlthough he had been much interested by Sergey Ivanovitch's views of the\nnew epoch in history that would be created by the emancipation of forty\nmillions of men of Slavonic race acting with Russia, a conception quite\nnew to him, and although he was disturbed by uneasy wonder at being sent\nfor by Kitty, as soon as he came out of the drawing room and was alone,\nhis mind reverted at once to the thoughts of the morning. And all the\ntheories of the significance of the Slav element in the history of the\nworld seemed to him so trivial compared with what was passing in his own\nsoul, that he instantly forgot it all and dropped back into the same\nframe of mind that he had been in that morning.\n\nHe did not, as he had done at other times, recall the whole train of\nthought--that he did not need. He fell back at once into the feeling\nwhich had guided him, which was connected with those thoughts, and he\nfound that feeling in his soul even stronger and more definite than\nbefore. He did not, as he had had to do with previous attempts to find\ncomforting arguments, need to revive a whole chain of thought to find\nthe feeling. Now, on the contrary, the feeling of joy and peace was\nkeener than ever, and thought could not keep pace with feeling.\n\nHe walked across the terrace and looked at two stars that had come out\nin the darkening sky, and suddenly he remembered. \"Yes, looking at the\nsky, I thought that the dome that I see is not a deception, and then I\nthought something, I shirked facing something,\" he mused. \"But whatever\nit was, there can be no disproving it! I have but to think, and all will\ncome clear!\"\n\nJust as he was going into the nursery he remembered what it was he had\nshirked facing. It was that if the chief proof of the Divinity was His\nrevelation of what is right, how is it this revelation is confined to\nthe Christian church alone? What relation to this revelation have the\nbeliefs of the Buddhists, Mohammedans, who preached and did good too?\n\nIt seemed to him that he had an answer to this question; but he had not\ntime to formulate it to himself before he went into the nursery.\n\nKitty was standing with her sleeves tucked up over the baby in the bath.\nHearing her husband's footstep, she turned towards him, summoning him to\nher with her smile. With one hand she was supporting the fat baby that\nlay floating and sprawling on its back, while with the other she\nsqueezed the sponge over him.\n\n\"Come, look, look!\" she said, when her husband came up to her. \"Agafea\nMihalovna's right. He knows us!\"\n\nMitya had on that day given unmistakable, incontestable signs of\nrecognizing all his friends.\n\nAs soon as Levin approached the bath, the experiment was tried, and it\nwas completely successful. The cook, sent for with this object, bent\nover the baby. He frowned and shook his head disapprovingly. Kitty bent\ndown to him, he gave her a beaming smile, propped his little hands on\nthe sponge and chirruped, making such a queer little contented sound\nwith his lips, that Kitty and the nurse were not alone in their\nadmiration. Levin, too, was surprised and delighted.\n\nThe baby was taken out of the bath, drenched with water, wrapped in\ntowels, dried, and after a piercing scream, handed to his mother.\n\n\"Well, I am glad you are beginning to love him,\" said Kitty to her\nhusband, when she had settled herself comfortably in her usual place,\nwith the baby at her breast. \"I am so glad! It had begun to distress me.\nYou said you had no feeling for him.\"\n\n\"No; did I say that? I only said I was disappointed.\"\n\n\"What! disappointed in him?\"\n\n\"Not disappointed in him, but in my own feeling; I had expected more. I\nhad expected a rush of new delightful emotion to come as a surprise. And\nthen instead of that--disgust, pity...\"\n\nShe listened attentively, looking at him over the baby, while she put\nback on her slender fingers the rings she had taken off while giving\nMitya his bath.\n\n\"And most of all, at there being far more apprehension and pity than\npleasure. Today, after that fright during the storm, I understand how I\nlove him.\"\n\nKitty's smile was radiant.\n\n\"Were you very much frightened?\" she said. \"So was I too, but I feel it\nmore now that it's over. I'm going to look at the oak. How nice\nKatavasov is! And what a happy day we've had altogether. And you're so\nnice with Sergey Ivanovitch, when you care to be.... Well, go back to\nthem. It's always so hot and steamy here after the bath.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\n\nGoing out of the nursery and being again alone, Levin went back at once\nto the thought, in which there was something not clear.\n\nInstead of going into the drawing room, where he heard voices, he\nstopped on the terrace, and leaning his elbows on the parapet, he gazed\nup at the sky.\n\nIt was quite dark now, and in the south, where he was looking, there\nwere no clouds. The storm had drifted on to the opposite side of the\nsky, and there were flashes of lightning and distant thunder from that\nquarter. Levin listened to the monotonous drip from the lime trees in\nthe garden, and looked at the triangle of stars he knew so well, and the\nMilky Way with its branches that ran through its midst. At each flash of\nlightning the Milky Way, and even the bright stars, vanished, but as\nsoon as the lightning died away, they reappeared in their places as\nthough some hand had flung them back with careful aim.\n\n\"Well, what is it perplexes me?\" Levin said to himself, feeling\nbeforehand that the solution of his difficulties was ready in his soul,\nthough he did not know it yet. \"Yes, the one unmistakable, incontestable\nmanifestation of the Divinity is the law of right and wrong, which has\ncome into the world by revelation, and which I feel in myself, and in\nthe recognition of which--I don't make myself, but whether I will or\nnot--I am made one with other men in one body of believers, which is\ncalled the church. Well, but the Jews, the Mohammedans, the Confucians,\nthe Buddhists--what of them?\" he put to himself the question he had\nfeared to face. \"Can these hundreds of millions of men be deprived of\nthat highest blessing without which life has no meaning?\" He pondered a\nmoment, but immediately corrected himself. \"But what am I questioning?\"\nhe said to himself. \"I am questioning the relation to Divinity of all\nthe different religions of all mankind. I am questioning the universal\nmanifestation of God to all the world with all those misty blurs. What\nam I about? To me individually, to my heart has been revealed a\nknowledge beyond all doubt, and unattainable by reason, and here I am\nobstinately trying to express that knowledge in reason and words.\n\n\"Don't I know that the stars don't move?\" he asked himself, gazing at\nthe bright planet which had shifted its position up to the topmost twig\nof the birch-tree. \"But looking at the movements of the stars, I can't\npicture to myself the rotation of the earth, and I'm right in saying\nthat the stars move.\n\n\"And could the astronomers have understood and calculated anything, if\nthey had taken into account all the complicated and varied motions of\nthe earth? All the marvelous conclusions they have reached about the\ndistances, weights, movements, and deflections of the heavenly bodies\nare only founded on the apparent motions of the heavenly bodies about a\nstationary earth, on that very motion I see before me now, which has\nbeen so for millions of men during long ages, and was and will be always\nalike, and can always be trusted. And just as the conclusions of the\nastronomers would have been vain and uncertain if not founded on\nobservations of the seen heavens, in relation to a single meridian and a\nsingle horizon, so would my conclusions be vain and uncertain if not\nfounded on that conception of right, which has been and will be always\nalike for all men, which has been revealed to me as a Christian, and\nwhich can always be trusted in my soul. The question of other religions\nand their relations to Divinity I have no right to decide, and no\npossibility of deciding.\"\n\n\"Oh, you haven't gone in then?\" he heard Kitty's voice all at once, as\nshe came by the same way to the drawing-room.\n\n\"What is it? you're not worried about anything?\" she said, looking\nintently at his face in the starlight.\n\nBut she could not have seen his face if a flash of lightning had not\nhidden the stars and revealed it. In that flash she saw his face\ndistinctly, and seeing him calm and happy, she smiled at him.\n\n\"She understands,\" he thought; \"she knows what I'm thinking about. Shall\nI tell her or not? Yes, I'll tell her.\" But at the moment he was about\nto speak, she began speaking.\n\n\"Kostya! do something for me,\" she said; \"go into the corner room and\nsee if they've made it all right for Sergey Ivanovitch. I can't very\nwell. See if they've put the new wash stand in it.\"\n\n\"Very well, I'll go directly,\" said Levin, standing up and kissing her.\n\n\"No, I'd better not speak of it,\" he thought, when she had gone in\nbefore him. \"It is a secret for me alone, of vital importance for me,\nand not to be put into words.\n\n\"This new feeling has not changed me, has not made me happy and\nenlightened all of a sudden, as I had dreamed, just like the feeling for\nmy child. There was no surprise in this either. Faith--or not faith--I\ndon't know what it is--but this feeling has come just as imperceptibly\nthrough suffering, and has taken firm root in my soul.\n\n\"I shall go on in the same way, losing my temper with Ivan the coachman,\nfalling into angry discussions, expressing my opinions tactlessly; there\nwill be still the same wall between the holy of holies of my soul and\nother people, even my wife; I shall still go on scolding her for my own\nterror, and being remorseful for it; I shall still be as unable to\nunderstand with my reason why I pray, and I shall still go on praying;\nbut my life now, my whole life apart from anything that can happen to\nme, every minute of it is no more meaningless, as it was before, but it\nhas the positive meaning of goodness, which I have the power to put into\nit.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANNA KARENINA ***\n\n\n\n\nA Word from Project Gutenberg\n\n\nWe will update this book if we find any errors.\n\nThis book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1399\n\nCreating the works from public domain print editions means that no one\nowns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and\nyou!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission\nand without paying copyright royalties. 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},
{
"path": "DEEP LEARNING/NLP/LSTM RNN/Next Chars pytorch/project-tv-script-generation/data/Seinfeld_Scripts.txt",
"content": "jerry: do you know what this is all about? do you know, why were here? to be out, this is out...and out is one of the single most enjoyable experiences of life. people...did you ever hear people talking about we should go out? this is what theyre talking about...this whole thing, were all out now, no one is home. not one person here is home, were all out! there are people trying to find us, they dont know where we are. (on an imaginary phone) did you ring?, i cant find him. where did he go? he didnt tell me where he was going. he must have gone out. you wanna go out you get ready, you pick out the clothes, right? you take the shower, you get all ready, get the cash, get your friends, the car, the spot, the reservation...then youre standing around, what do you do? you go we gotta be getting back. once youre out, you wanna get back! you wanna go to sleep, you wanna get up, you wanna go out again tomorrow, right? where ever you are in life, its my feeling, youve gotta go. \n\njerry: (pointing at georges shirt) see, to me, that button is in the worst possible spot. the second button literally makes or breaks the shirt, look at it. its too high! its in no-mans-land. you look like you live with your mother. \n\ngeorge: are you through? \n\njerry: you do of course try on, when you buy? \n\ngeorge: yes, it was purple, i liked it, i dont actually recall considering the buttons. \n\njerry: oh, you dont recall? \n\ngeorge: (on an imaginary microphone) uh, no, not at this time. \n\njerry: well, senator, id just like to know, what you knew and when you knew it. \n\nclaire: mr. seinfeld. mr. costanza. \n\ngeorge: are, are you sure this is decaf? wheres the orange indicator? \n\nclaire: its missing, i have to do it in my head decaf left, regular right, decaf left, regular right...its very challenging work. \n\njerry: can you relax, its a cup of coffee. claire is a professional waitress. \n\nclaire: trust me george. no one has any interest in seeing you on caffeine. \n\ngeorge: how come youre not doing the second show tomorrow? \n\njerry: well, theres this uh, woman might be coming in. \n\ngeorge: wait a second, wait a second, what coming in, what woman is coming in? \n\njerry: i told you about laura, the girl i met in michigan? \n\ngeorge: no, you didnt! \n\njerry: i thought i told you about it, yes, she teaches political science? i met her the night i did the show in lansing... \n\ngeorge: ha. \n\njerry: (looks in the creamer) theres no milk in here, what... \n\ngeorge: wait wait wait, what is she... (takes the milk can from jerry and puts it on the table) what is she like? \n\njerry: oh, shes really great. i mean, shes got like a real warmth about her and shes really bright and really pretty and uh... the conversation though, i mean, it was... talking with her is like talking with you, but, you know, obviously much better. \n\ngeorge: (smiling) so, you know, what, what happened? \n\njerry: oh, nothing happened, you know, but is was great. \n\ngeorge: oh, nothing happened, but it was... \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: this is great! \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: so, you know, she calls and says she wants to go out with you tomorrow night? god bless! devil you! \n\njerry: yeah, well...not exactly. i mean, she said, you know, she called this morning and said she had to come in for a seminar and maybe well get together. \n\ngeorge: (whistles disapprovingly) ho ho ho, had to? had to come in? \n\njerry: yeah, but... \n\ngeorge: had to come in and maybe well get together? had to and maybe? \n\njerry: yeah! \n\ngeorge: no...no...no, i hate to tell you this. youre not gonna see this woman. \n\njerry: what, are you serious...why, why did she call? \n\ngeorge: how do i know, maybe, you know, maybe she wanted to be polite. \n\njerry: to be polite? you are insane! \n\ngeorge: all right, all right, i didnt want to tell you this. you wanna know why she called you? \n\njerry: yes! \n\ngeorge: youre a back-up, youre a second-line, a just-in-case, a b-plan, a contingency! \n\njerry: oh, i get it, this is about the button. \n\ngeorge: claire, claire, youre a woman, right? \n\nclaire: what gave it away, george? \n\ngeorge: uhm...id like to ask you...ask you to analyze a hypothetical phone call, you know, from a female point of view. \n\ngeorge: (to claire) now, a woman calls me, all right? \n\nclaie: uh huh. \n\ngeorge: she says she has to come to new york on business... \n\njerry: oh you are beautiful! \n\ngeorge: ...and, and maybe shell see me when she gets there, does this woman intend to spend time with me? \n\nclaire: id have to say, uh, no. \n\n(george shows his note-block to jerry; it says very largely: no.) \n\nclaire: to be polite. \n\ngeorge: to be polite. i rest my case. \n\njerry: good. did you have fun? you have no idea, what youre talking about, now, come on, come with me. (stands up) i gotta go get my stuff out of the dryer anyway. \n\ngeorge: im not gonna watch you do laundry. \n\njerry: oh, come on, be a come-with guy. \n\ngeorge: come on, im tired. \n\nclaire: (to jerry) dont worry, i gave him a little caffeine. hell perk up. \n\ngeorge: (panicking) right, i knew i felt something! \n\ngeorge: jerry? i have to tell you something. this is the dullest moment ive ever experienced. \n\njerry: well, look at this guy. look, hes got everything, hes got detergents, sprays, fabric softeners. this is not his first load. \n\ngeorge: i need a break, jerry, you know. i gotta get out of the city. i feel so cramped... \n\njerry: and you didnt even hear how she sounded. \n\ngeorge: what?! \n\njerry: laura. \n\ngeorge: i cant believe- (falls on his knees) we already discussed this! \n\njerry: yeah, but how could you be so sure? \n\ngeorge: cause its signals, jerry, its signals! (snapping his fingers) dont you- all right. did she even ask you, what you were doing tomorrow night, if you were busy? \n\njerry: no. \n\ngeorge: she calls you today and she doesnt make a plan for tomorrow? what is that? its saturday night! \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: what is that? its ridiculous! you dont even know what hotel shes staying at, you cant call her. thats a signal, jerry, thats a signal! (snaps his fingers) signal! \n\njerry: maybe youre right. \n\ngeorge: maybe im right? of course im right. \n\njerry: this is insane. you know, i dont even know where shes staying! she, shes not gonna call me, this is unbelievable. \n\ngeorge: i know, i know. listen, your stuff has to be done by now, why dont you just see if its dry? \n\njerry: no no no, dont interrupt the cycle. the machine is working, it, it knows what its doing. just let it finish. \n\ngeorge: youre gonna over-dry it. \n\njerry: you, you cant over-dry. \n\ngeorge: why not? \n\njerry: same as you cant over-wet. you see, once something is wet, its wet. same thing with death. like once you die youre dead, right? lets say you drop dead and i shoot you. youre not gonna die again, youre already dead. you cant over-die, you cant over-dry. \n\ngeorge: (to the other laundry patrons) any questions? \n\njerry: how could she not tell me where she was staying? \n\ngeorge: look at that. theyre done! \n\njerry: laundry day is the only exciting day in the life of clothes. it is...you know, think about it. the washing machine is the nightclub of clothes. you know, its dark, theres bubbles happening, theyre all kinda dancing around in there- shirt grabs the underwear, cmon babe, lets go. you come by, you open up the lid and theyll- (stiffens up, as the clothes) socks are the most amazing article of clothing. they hate their lives, theyre in the shoes with stinky feet, the boring drawers. the dryer is their only chance to escape and they all know it. they knew a escape from the dryer. they plan it in the hamper the night before, tomorrow, the dryer, im goin. you wait here! the dryer door swings open and the sock is waiting up against the side wall. he hopes you dont see him and then he goes down the road. they get buttons sewn on their faces, join a puppet show. so theyre showing me on television the detergent for getting out bloodstains. is this a violent image to anybody? bloodstains? i mean, come on, you got a t-shirt with bloodstains all over it, maybe laundry isnt your biggest problem right now. you gotta get the harpoon out your chest first. \n\njerry: (answering, quickly) if you know what happened in the met game, dont say anything, i taped it, hello. yeah, no, im sorry, you have the wrong number. yeah, no \n\njerry: (to the door) yeah? \n\nkessler: are you up? \n\njerry: (to kessler) yeah. (to the phone) yeah, people do move. have you ever seen the big trucks out on the street? yeah, no problem. \n\nkessler: boy, the mets blew it tonight, huh? \n\njerry: (upset) ohhhh, what are you doing? kessler, its a tape! i taped the game, its one oclock in the morning! i avoided human contact all night to watch this. \n\nkessler: hey, im sorry, i- you know, i, i thought you knew. (takes two loaves of bread out of his pockets, and holds them out to jerry.) you got any meat? \n\njerry: meat? i dont, i dont know, go... hunt! (kessler opens the refrigerator and sticks his head in.) well what happened in the game anyway? \n\nkessler: (from the refrigerator) what happened? well, they stunk, thats what happened! \n\nkessler: you know, i almost wound up going to that game. \n\njerry: (cynical) yeah you almost went to the game. you havent been out of the building in ten years! \n\nkessler: yeah. (jerry sits down on the couch. kessler walks over with his sandwich and looks at jerry and uses expressions to ask jerry to move the newspapers on the other side of the couch so he could site down. kessler sits down next to him and starts turning over the pages of a magazine. suddenly he spots an article he likes and tears it out. jerry gives him a look as if to say, do you mind?) are you done with this? \n\njerry: no. \n\nkessler: when youre done, let me know. \n\njerry: yeah, yeah...you can have it tomorrow. \n\nkessler: i thought i wasnt allowed to be in here this weekend. \n\njerry: no, its okay now, that, that girl is not coming. uh, i misread the whole thing. \n\nkessler: you want me to talk to her? \n\njerry: i dont think so. \n\nkessler: oh, i can be very persuasive. do you know that i was almost... a lawyer. \n\njerry: that close, huh? \n\nkessler: you better believe it. \n\njerry: hello...oh, hi, laura. \n\nkessler: oh, give me it...let me talk to her. \n\njerry: (to the phone) no believe me, im always up at this hour. how are you?... great... sure... what time does the plane get in?... i got my friend george to take me... \n\nkessler: (to the tv) slide! wow! \n\njerry: no, its, its just my neighbor... um... yeah, i got it. (jerry takes a pencil and a cereal box to write on.) ten-fifteen... no, dont be silly, go ahead and ask... yeah, sure... okay, great, no no, its no trouble at all... ill see you tomorrow... great, bye. (he hangs up the phone; to kessler) i dont believe it. that was her. she wants to stay here! \n\njerry: if my father was moving this he had to have a cigarette in his mouth the whole way. (as his father) 'have you got your end?...your ends got to come down first, easy now, drop it down...drop it down, your ends got to come down.' \n\ngeorge: you know, i cant believe youre bringing in an extra bed for woman that wants to sleep with you. why dont you bring in an extra guy too? \n\njerry: look, its a very awkward situation. i dont wanna be presumptuous. \n\ngeorge: all right, all right, one more time, one more time! what was the exact phrasing of the request? \n\njerry: all right, she said she couldnt find a decent hotel room... \n\ngeorge: a decent hotel-room... \n\njerry: yeah, a decent hotel-room, would it be terribly inconvenient if she stayed at my place. \n\ngeorge: you cant be serious. this is new york city. there must be eleven million decent hotel rooms! what do you need? a flag? (waving his handkerchief) this is the signal, jerry, this is the signal! \n\njerry: (cynical) this is the signal? thank you, mr. signal. where were you yesterday? \n\ngeorge: i think i was affected by the caffeine. \n\ngeorge: ho, ho, ho, good dog, good dog... \n\nkessler: hey, he really likes you, george. \n\ngeorge: well, thats flattering. \n\nkessler: oh, hes getting a drink of water. (pointing to the mattress) is this for that girl? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nkessler: why even give her an option? \n\njerry: this is a person i like, its not how to score on spring break. \n\ngeorge: right, can we go? cause im double-parked, im gonna get a ticket. \n\njerry: yeah, okay. oh, wait a second. oh, i forgot to clean the bathroom. \n\ngeorge: so what? thats good. \n\njerry: now, how could that be good? \n\ngeorge: because filth is good. what do you think, rock stars have sponges and ammonia lying around the bathroom? they, have a woman coming over, ive gotta tidy up? yeah right, in these matters you never do what your instincts tell you. always, always do the opposite. \n\njerry: this is how you operate? \n\ngeorge: yeah, i wish. \n\njerry: let me just wipe the sink. \n\nkessler: why even give her an option for? \n\nkessler: (to george, pointing at the mattress) its unbelievable. \n\ngeorge: yeah. \n\nkessler: hows the real estate-business? \n\ngeorge: (feeling awkward) its uh, not bad, its coming along. why? did you need something. \n\nkramer: do you handle any of that commercial...real estate? \n\ngeorge: well, i might be getting into that. \n\nkessler: (slaps george on the arm) you keep me posted! \n\ngeorge: im aware of you. (to jerry) all right, lets go (opens the bathroom door) lets go! \n\njerry: the dating world is not a fun world...its a pressure world, its a world of tension, its a world of pain...and you know, if a woman comes over to my house, i gotta get that bathroom ready, cause she needs things. women need equipment. i dont know what they need. i know i dont have it, i know that- you know what they need, women seem to need a lot of cotton-balls. this is the one im- always has been one of the amazing things to me...i have no cotton-balls, were all human beings, what is the story? ive never had one...i never bought one, i never needed one, ive never been in a situation, when i thought to myself i could use a cotton-ball right now. i can certainly get out of this mess. women need them and they dont need one or two, they need thousands of them, they need bags, theyre like peat moss bags, have you ever seen these giant bags? theyre huge and two days later, theyre out, theyre gone, the, the bag is empty, where are the cotton-balls, ladies? what are you doin with them? the only time i ever see em is in the bottom of your little waste basket, theres two or three, that look like theyve been through some horrible experience... tortured, interrogated, i dont know what happened to them. i once went out with a girl who left a little zip-lock-baggy of cotton-balls over at my house. i dont know what to do with them, i took them out, i put them on my kitchen floor like little tumbleweeds. i thought maybe the cockroaches would see it, figure this is a dead town. lets move on. the dating world is a world of pressure. lets face it a date is a job interview that lasts all night. the only difference between a date and a job interview is not many job interviews is there a chance youll end up naked at the end of it. you know? well, bill, the boss thinks youre the man for the position, why dont you strip down and meet some of the people youll be working with? \n\njerry: wouldnt it be great if you could ask a woman what shes thinking? \n\ngeorge: what a world that would be, if you just could ask a woman what shes thinking. \n\njerry: you know, instead, im like a detective. i gotta pick up clues, the whole thing is a murder investigation. \n\ngeorge: listen, listen, dont get worked up, cause youre gonna know the whole story the minute she steps off the plane. \n\njerry: really? how? \n\ngeorge: cause its all in the greeting. \n\njerry: uh-huh. \n\ngeorge: all right, if she puts the bags down before she greets you, thats a good sign. \n\njerry: right. \n\ngeorge: you know, anything in the, in the lip area is good. \n\njerry: lip area. \n\ngeorge: you know a hug definitely good. \n\njerry: hug is definitely good. \n\ngeorge: sure. \n\njerry: although what if its one of those hugs where the shoulders are touching, the hips are eight feet apart? \n\ngeorge: thats so brutal, i hate that. \n\njerry: you know how they do that? \n\ngeorge: thats why, you know, a shake is bad. \n\njerry: shake is bad, but what if its the two-hander? the hand on the bottom, the hand on the top, the warm look in the eyes? \n\ngeorge: hand sandwich. \n\njerry: right. \n\ngeorge: i see, well, thats open to interpretation. because so much depends on the layering and the quality of the wetness in the eyes. \n\nlaura: guess who? \n\njerry: hey, hey. \n\nlaura & jerry: hey! \n\njerry: its good to see you. \n\nlaura: hi. \n\njerry: this is my friend george. \n\nlaura: hi, how nice to meet you. \n\ngeorge: hi, how are you? \n\njerry: this is laura. \n\ngeorge: laura, sure. \n\njerry: (to laura) i cant believe youre here. \n\ngeorge & jerry: ooh yeah, the bags, sure. \n\nlaura: oh, thank you. \n\njerry: (aside, to george) now that was an interesting greeting, did you notice that, george? \n\ngeorge: yes, the surprise blindfold greeting. that wasnt in the manual, i dont know. \n\njerry: so uh, what do you think? \n\nlaura: wow! this place isnt so bad. \n\njerry: yeah, it kind a motivates me to work on the road. so uh, make yourself at home. (laura sits down on the couch, takes off her shoes and opens some buttons of her shirt.) so uh, can i get you anything? uh, bread, water...salad-dressing? \n\nlaura: (laughs) actually, um, do you have any wine? \n\njerry: uh, yeah, i think i do. \n\nlaura: (referring to a lamp) oh, do you mind if i turn this down? \n\njerry: uh, no, yeah, go right ahead. \n\nlaura: uh, jerry, uh, i was wandering, would it be possible and if its not, fine for me to stay here tomorrow night too? \n\njerry: uh, yeah, yeah, sure, why dont you stay? yeah, uh…what is your, what is your schedule for tomorrow? are you, are you doing anything? \n\nlaura: no, id love to do something. uh, i have my seminar in the morning, then after that im right open. \n\njerry: really? what would you like to do? \n\nlaura: well... now i know this sounds touristy, but id just love to go on one of those five-hour boat rides around manhattan. \n\njerry: (unenthusiastic) yeah, we could do that...why not, why not. (pouring the wine) im just, im really glad youre here. \n\njerry: (answering) yeah, hello...yes...yes, she is, hold on. (to laura) um, its for you. \n\nlaura: (to the phone) hello?... hi!... no no it was great, right on time... no, i, im gonna stay here tomorrow...yes, yes its fine... no, were going on a boat ride... dont be silly... im not gonna have this conversation... look, ill call you tomorrow... okay, bye. (she hangs up the phone.) never get engaged. \n\njerry: (not excited) youre engaged? \n\nlaura: you, you really have no idea what its like until you actually do it. and im on this emotional roller coaster. \n\njerry: youre engaged? \n\nlaura: you know, i cant believe it myself sometimes. you have to start thinking in terms of we. ugh, its a very stressful situation. \n\njerry: (matter-of-factly) youre engaged. \n\nlaura: yeah, yeah, hes a great guy... \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nlaura: you would really like him, you know, i cant wait to get on that boat. \n\njerry: me too! \n\njerry: i swear, i have absolutely no idea what women are thinking. i dont get it, okay? i, i, i admit, i, im not getting the signals. i am not getting it! women, theyre so subtle, their little...everything they do is subtle. men are not subtle, we are obvious. women know what men want, men know what men want, what do we want? we want women, thats it! its the only thing we know for sure, it really is. we want women. how do we get them? oh, we dont know bout that, we dont know. the next step after that we have no idea. this is why you see men honking car-horns, yelling from construction sites. these are the best ideas weve had so far. the car-horn honk. have you seen men doing this? what is this? the man is in the car, the woman walks by the front of the car, he honks. hey! this man is out of ideas. how does it...? i dont think she likes me. the amazing thing is, that we still get women, dont we? men, i mean, men are with women. you see men with women. how are men getting women, many people wonder. let me tell you a little bit about our organization. wherever women are, we have a man working on the situation right now. now, he may not be our best man, okay, we have a lot of areas to cover, but someone from our staff is on the scene. thats why, i think, men get frustrated, when we see women reading articles, like where to meet men? were here, we are everywhere. were honking our horns to serve you better. \n\njerry: so, im on line at the supermarket. two women in front of me. one of them, her total was eight dollars, the other three dollars. they both of course choose to pay by the use of the... \n\naudience: cheque. \n\njerry: cheque. now, the fact is, if its a woman in front of you thats writing the cheque, you will not be waiting long. i have noticed that women are very fast with cheques, you know, cause they write out so many cheques. the keys, they can never find in their purse, they dont know where that is, but the cheque book they got that. they never fumble for the cheque book. the cheque book comes out of a holster (jerry draws imaginary book from a holster.) who do i make it out to? theres my id. theres something about a cheque that, to a man, is not masculine. i dont know exactly what it is. i think to a man, a cheque is like a note from your mother that says, i dont have any money, but if youll contact these people, im sure theyll stick up for me... if you just trust me this one time- i dont have any money but i have these. i wrote on these. is this of any value at all? \n\njerry: whats that one? \n\nelaine: coccoon ii the return. i guess they didnt like it up there. \n\njerry: maybe they came back for chinese food. yknow maureen stapleton, if she gets a craving, shes probably screamin at those aliens, i gotta have a lo mein! \n\nelaine: okay, whatre we doing here? i have seen everything. \n\njerry: oh yeah? i dont believe youve seen... this. \n\nelaine: oh, lovely. \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nelaine: what do you think their parents think? \n\njerry: so, uh, whats your son doing now, dr. stevens? oh, hes a public fornicator. yes, hes a fine boy... \n\nelaine: you know what? this would be a really funny gift for pamelas birthday. \n\njerry: pamela? do i know her? \n\nelaine: yeah, you met her when we were going out. \n\njerry: oh yeah, right... \n\nelaine: you have no idea who im talking about, do you? \n\njerry: (quickly) no. \n\nelaine: blonde hair, remember? glasses? (pause) have you totally blocked out the entire time we were a couple? \n\njerry: (a lightbulb goes on in his head) riverside drive. \n\nelaine: right! in fact... no, never mind... \n\njerry: well, what is it? \n\nelaine: well, a bunch of people are getting together tomorrow night at some bar for her birthday, but... (jerry turns in disgust) you dont want to go to... that... no. \n\njerry: wait a second, wait a second. we could work out a little deal here. \n\nelaine: what little deal? \n\njerry: i will go to that, if you go with me to a little family wedding i have on saturday. \n\nelaine: a wedding? have you lost it, man? \n\njerry: you know, my parents are coming in for this... \n\nelaine: theyre coming in? \n\njerry: yeah, tomorrow. \n\nelaine: hey, did your father ever get that hair weave? \n\njerry: no, no. still doing the big sweep across. \n\nelaine: why does he do that? \n\njerry: doesnt think anyone can tell. so cmon, do we have a deal? \n\nelaine: a wedding? \n\njerry: theres a lot of people to mock... \n\nelaine: all right, what the hell. \n\njerry: great! \n\nwoman: when youre dead, youre dead. thats it. youre not going anywhere... \n\nelaine: cmon lets go... \n\njerry: was i supposed to bring something? \n\nelaine: you could have. \n\njerry: i met her one time... \n\nelaine: it is not necessary. \n\njerry: what did you say then? \n\nelaine: shh!!! \n\npamela: hi \n\nelaine: hi, pamela, you remember jerry. \n\npamela: (shakes jerry's hand) yes, we met. \n\njerry: hi, happy birthday. \n\npamela: thanks, ah, everybody, this is elaine and jerry. \n\nguests, jerry and elaine: hi \n\njerry: i didnt bring anything. \n\npamela: uh, i put you two right here. \n\njerry: oh, okay (turns to rest of table) im sorry, i didnt know what to bring, nobody told me. \n\nvanessa: how big a tip do you think it would take to get him to stop? \n\njerry: im in for five... \n\nvanessa: ill supply the hat. \n\njerry: (thinking) uh-oh... what do we have here? \n\nvanessa: why dont you relax and take your jacket off? \n\njerry: oh, i cant. uh, i have a tendency to get chilly. \n\nvanessa: how masculine. \n\njerry: plus im wearing short sleeves, i dont want to expose my tattoos. (vanessa smiles; thinking) shes unbelievable! \n\nroger: (to vanessa) hey, this guy says he knows bricker. \n\nvanessa: oh, you know bricker! from where? \n\njerry: (thinking) whats going on here? gotta be her boyfriend, shes too good to be alone. whats the difference, i cant manouver anyway with elaine next to me. \n\nvanessa: (to jerry) how do you know pamela? \n\njerry: uh, friend of a friend. and you? \n\nvanessa: we went to law school together. \n\nelaine: (interrupting jerry's conversation) oh, jerry! \n\njerry: (turning to elaine; thinking) oh no, not now. \n\nelaine: i had this dream last night and you were in it. \n\njerry: oh really? (tries turning away in the hopes elaine gets the hint; thinking) oh god, i gotta get out of this. \n\nelaine: you were you, but, you werent you... \n\njerry: no kidding. (thinking) why is this happening? please, make her stop! \n\nelaine: i think, i think we were in my house where i grew up, and you were standing there, you were looking out the window... \n\njerry: (thinking) this is brutal. \n\nelaine: you turned around and you had these wooden teeth. \n\njerry: how do you like that? (tries to turn away again; thinking)can i turn now? is this over? no, i cant, i cant. im stuck. \n\nelaine: (noticing jerry not wanting to listen; annoyed) jerry? are you listening to me? \n\njerry: yes, i heard you. \n\npamela: elaine, whats the name of that jewelry store you took me to that time? \n\njerry: (thinking) thank you, pamela! (turns to talk to vanessa; to vanessa) so, youre a lawyer... \n\nvanessa: sagman, bennet, robbins, oppenheim and taft. \n\njerry: (thinking) sagman, bennet, robbins, oppenheim and taft. sagman, bennet, robbins, oppenheim and taft... (to vanessa) of course, they handled my tattoo removal lawsuit. \n\nvanessa: oh, that was you? \n\njerry: imagine, spelling mom with two os. \n\nvanessa: very funny! what do you do? \n\njerry: comedian. \n\nvanessa: really? that explains it. \n\njerry: (thinking; quickly) sagman, bennet, robbins, oppenheim and taft. sagman, bennet, robbins, oppenheim and taft. \n\nroger: are you ready? \n\nvanessa: we gotta run. happy birthday! \n\njerry: (thinking) i cant believe it. i got nothing! i dont even know her name! sagman, bennet, robbins, oppenheim and taft. sagman, bennet, robbins, oppen... sagman... sag... \n\njerry: that wasnt so bad, really. \n\nelaine: you know, um, you could use a little work on your manners. \n\njerry: why? what did i do? \n\nelaine: wel-well, i just dont appreciate these little courtesy responses, like im selling you aluminum siding. \n\njerry: i was listening! \n\nelaine: no! you couldnt wait to get back to your little... conversation. \n\njerry: no, you were talking about the, the um, the dream you had. \n\nelaine: uh-huh... \n\njerry: where you had, uh, wooden teeth. \n\nelaine: no! no! you had wooden teeth! you had wooden teeth! i didnt have wooden teeth, you did! \n\njerry: all right, so i had wooden teeth, so what? \n\nelaine: so nothing! nothing. (annoyed sigh) \n\njerry: apparently plato, who came up with the concept of the platonic relationship, was pretty excited about it. he named it after himself. he said, yeah, i got this new thing platonic. my idea, my name, callin it after myself. what i do is, i go out with the girls, i talk with them- dont do anything, and go right home. whatd you think? i think its going to be big! i bet you there were other guys in history that tried to get relationships named after them, but it didnt work. yknow, i bet you there were guys who tried to do it, just went, uh, hi, uh my names rico. would you like to go to bed immediately? hey, its a riconic relationship. \n\njerry: hey! \n\nmorty: ah, there he is! \n\njerry: this is what i like, see? you come home and your parents are in your bed! \n\nhelen: yknow, jerry, we dont have to do this. \n\njerry: what are you talkin about? its fine, i love having you here. \n\nhelen: tomorrow well go to a hotel. \n\njerry: ma, will you stop? \n\nhelen: no, why should we take over your apartment? \n\njerry: i dont care. im sleeping next door. \n\nhelen: your friend kramer doesnt mind? \n\njerry: no, hes making a bouillabaisse. \n\njerry: so, dad, lemme ask you a question. how many people work at these big law offices? \n\nmorty: depends on the firm. \n\njerry: yeah, but if you called up and described someone, do you think they would know who it was? \n\nmorty: whats the matter? you need a lawyer? \n\njerry: no, i met someone at this party, and i know where she works, but i dont know her name. \n\nmorty: so why dont you ask someone who was at the party? \n\njerry: nah, the only one i could ask is elaine, and i cant ask her. \n\nhelen: why not? \n\njerry: because its complicated. theres some tension there. \n\nhelen: he used to go with her. \n\nhelen: which one is she? \n\nmorty: from maryland. the one who brought you the chocolate covered cherries you didnt like. \n\nhelen: oh yeah, very alert. warm person. \n\njerry: oh yeah, shes great. \n\nhelen: so, how come nothing materialized there? \n\njerry: well, its a tough thing to talk about uh. i dunno... \n\nhelen: i know what it was. \n\njerry: you dont know what it was. \n\nhelen: so, what was it? \n\njerry: well, we fight a lot for some reason. \n\nhelen & morty: oh, well... \n\njerry: and there was a little problem with the physical chemistry. \n\nhelen: well, i think shes a very attractive girl. \n\njerry: oh, she is, she absolutely is. \n\nhelen: i can see if there was a weight problem... \n\njerry: no, its not that. it wasnt all one-sided. \n\nhelen: you know, you cant be so particular. nobodys perfect. \n\njerry: i know, i know... \n\nmorty: yknow jerry, its a good thing i wasnt so particular. \n\nhelen: (hits morty) idiot. (to jerry) so whore you looking for, sophia loren? \n\njerry: thats got nothin to do with it. \n\nmorty: how about loni anderson? \n\nhelen: where do you get loni anderson? \n\nmorty: why, whats wrong with loni anderson? \n\nhelen: i like elaine more than loni anderson. \n\njerry: what are you two talking about? look, elaine just wasnt the one. \n\nhelen: and this other ones the one? \n\njerry: i dunno, maybe... \n\nmorty: so ask elaine there for her number. \n\njerry: i cant. shell get upset. i never talk about other women with her, especially this one tonight. \n\nhelen: how could you still see her if your not interested? \n\njerry: were friends. \n\nmorty: doesnt sound like youre friends to me. if you were friends you'd-youd ask her for the number. do you know where this other one works? \n\njerry: oh yeah. \n\nmorty: well, go up to the office. \n\nhelen: up to her office? \n\nmorty: go to the building. she goes out to lunch, doesnt she? \n\njerry: i guess. \n\nmorty: so, you stand in the lobby, by the elevator, and wait for her to come down for lunch. \n\njerry: you mean stakeout the lobby? \n\nhelen: morty, thats ridiculous. just ask elaine for the number! \n\nmorty: he doesnt want to ask elaine for the number. \n\nhelen: so youve got him standing by the elevator like a dope! what happens when he sees her? \n\nmorty: he pretends he bumped into her! \n\njerry: yknow what? this is not that bad an idea. \n\ngeorge: what does she look like? \n\njerry: i dunno. hard to say. \n\ngeorge: what actress does she remind you of? \n\njerry: loni anderson. \n\ngeorge: loni anderson?! \n\njerry: what, theres something wrong with loni anderson? (pause) hey listen, thanks again for running over here. i appreciate it. \n\ngeorge: yeah, sure. i was showing a condo on 48th street. besides, you think i wanna miss this? (chuckles) \n\njerry: im a little nervous. \n\ngeorge: yeah, me too... \n\njerry: if i see her, what do i say that im doing here in the building? \n\ngeorge: you came to see me. i work in the building. \n\njerry: what do you do? \n\ngeorge: im an architect. \n\njerry: youre an architect? \n\ngeorge: im not? \n\njerry: i dont see architecture comin from you. \n\ngeorge: (somewhat annoyed) i suppose you could be an architect. \n\njerry: i never said that i was the architect. just somethin else. \n\ngeorge: all right, shes not even gonna ask, if we see her, which is remote. \n\njerry: well whaddaya want me to say, that i just wandered in here? \n\ngeorge: were having lunch with a friend. he works in the building. \n\njerry: what is his name? \n\ngeorge: bert... har... bin... son. bert har-bin-son. \n\njerry: bert harbinson? it sounds made up. \n\ngeorge: no good? all right, uh how about art... cor..... \n\njerry: art cor... \n\ngeorge: ...velay. \n\njerry: corvelay? \n\ngeorge: yeah, right. \n\njerry: well, what does he do? \n\ngeorge: hes an importer. \n\njerry: just imports, no exports? \n\ngeorge: (annoyed) hes an importer/exporter, okay? (beat) elaine ever call you back? \n\njerry: no, i guess shes still mad. \n\ngeorge: i dont understand, you never talk to her about other women? \n\njerry: never. (the elevator door opens.) wait a second. thats her. on the right. \n\ngeorge: (anxious) i forgot who i am! who am i?! \n\njerry: youre you. were having lunch with art corvelay. \n\ngeorge: vandelay! \n\njerry: corvelay! \n\ngeorge: let me be the architect! i can do it! \n\njerry: hey, hey. uh pamelas birthday party, didnt i see you there? jerry. \n\nvanessa: sure! hi! \n\njerry: uh, this is george. (reaches for her name) im sorry... \n\nvanessa: vanessa. \n\ngeorge: nice to meet you. \n\njerry: ah, sagman, bennet, robbins, oppenheim and taft. \n\nvanessa: thats right! yea, whatre you doing here? \n\njerry: oh, were meeting a friend of ours for lunch. he works here in the building. \n\ngeorge: yeah, art vandelay. \n\nvanessa: really? which company? \n\njerry & george: (turning to each other) i dont know. hes an importer. \n\nvanessa: importer? \n\ngeorge: ...and exporter. \n\njerry: hes an importer/exporter. \n\ngeorge: (clears his throat) im, uh, im an architect. \n\nvanessa: really. what do you design? \n\ngeorge: uh, railroads, uh... \n\nvanessa: i thought engineers do that. \n\ngeorge: they can... \n\njerry: yknow im sorry you had to leave so early the other night. \n\nvanessa: oh, me too. my cousin had to go back to boston. \n\njerry: oh, that guy was your cousin! (walking in front of george so he gets the picture to leave) \n\nvanessa: yeah, and that woman was your... \n\njerry: friend! \n\ngeorge: ill just, uh, get a paper... \n\njerry: so, um, do you date uh immature men? \n\nvanessa: almost exclusively... \n\nhelen: bum bum bum bum... i have no letters... bum bum bum bum... \n\njerry: (annoyed) ma, will you go already? \n\nhelen: bum bum bum bum... \n\njerry: what are you doing?! \n\nhelen: wait, i just want to see something. \n\njerry: you cant look in there, were playing! \n\nkramer: hi. \n\njerry: hi. \n\nmorty: (cleaning his shoes) good evening, mr. kramer! \n\nkramer: hey morty! (to jerry) salad dressing? \n\njerry: look. \n\nhelen: quo. is that a word? \n\njerry: maybe! \n\nhelen: will you challenge it? \n\njerry: ma, you cant look up words in the dictionary! (to morty) dad, shes cheating! \n\nkramer: quo? thats not a word. \n\nhelen: (to jerry) youre such a stickler... \n\njerry: well put something down, youre taking twenty minutes on this. so is uncle mac and artie, theyre all coming over here before the wedding? \n\nhelen: theyll be here at two oclock. oh, elaine called. she said shed be here at two-thirty. and she says hope your meeting went well with art vandelay? \n\njerry: she said what? \n\nhelen: just what i said, here. \n\njerry: she knows! oh, i am such a jackass. \n\nhelen: she knows what? \n\njerry: she knows the whole stupid thing. vanessa and the elevator... \n\nhelen: no, no, no, that wont do. he may have a z. \n\nmorty: so, how did she find out? \n\njerry: because, vanessa probably told pamela, and pamela probably told elaine. \n\nmorty: so, what are you? afraid of her? \n\njerry: yes. yes i am! (to helen) what else did she say on the phone? \n\nhelen: whatever i wrote down. \n\njerry: yeah, but what was the tone in her voice? how did she sound? \n\nhelen: who am i, rich little? \n\nmorty: well, she cant be too mad. shes still coming to the wedding. \n\njerry: yeah, but now im nervous. \n\nhelen: oh, stop it. \n\njerry: quone? \n\nhelen: ...30...31... \n\njerry: quone? no, im afraid that im going to have to challenge that. \n\nhelen: ...32... \n\nkramer: no, you dont have to challenge that. thats a word. thats a definite word. \n\njerry: i am challenging. \n\nkramer: quone. to quone something. \n\njerry: uh-huh. \n\nhelen: im not playing with you anymore. \n\nmorty: quones not a word. \n\njerry: no good. sorry. there it is. get it off. \n\nhelen: (to kramer) why did you make me put that down? \n\nkramer: nah, we need a medical dictionary! if a patient gets difficult, you quone him. \n\ncarol: you want some funny material, you oughta come down to where i work, now thats a sitcom! \n\njerry: you must have quite a time down there. \n\ncarol: we got plenty of time. \n\njerry: oh, im sorry. im just waiting for someone. \n\nuncle mac: watch what you say to this guy. hell put it in his next act! \n\njerry: yeah, yeah... \n\nuncle mac: jerry, did i tell you that im writing a book? an autobiography. \n\njerry: yeah, uncle mac, you mentioned it. \n\nuncle mac: its based on all my experiences! \n\njerry: thats perfect. \n\njerry: could you excuse me one second? im sorry. \n\njerry: how do you do? (introducing himself) uh, jerry seinfeld. \n\nelaine: oh, how do you do? elaine benes. \n\njerry: um, do you want to do this now, or do you want to wait until we get in the car? \n\nelaine: oh no, lets do it now. \n\njerry: all right, the whole elevator business, let me just explain- \n\nelaine: okay. \n\nartie: jerry, were you goin with us? \n\njerry: no, im gonna take my car. \n\nartie: thats why i brought the wagon. why the hell did i bring the wagon? \n\njerry: anyway, you know why i didnt ask you, i mean i felt so uncomfortable, and you were so annoyed in the cab. \n\nelaine: well, jerry, i never saw you flirt with anyone before. it was quite the spectacle. \n\ncarol: jerry, well see you there. bye, elaine. \n\nelaine: oh, bye. good to see you. \n\nartie: oh, we didnt meet. \n\njerry: oh, im sorry. elaine, this is my cousin, artie levine. \n\nartie: (correcting jerry) levine. \n\njerry: (sarcastically) yeah, levine. and im jerry cougar mellencamp. anyway, i admit it was a fairly ridiculous thing to do, but i mean, i mean, obviously we have a little problem here. \n\nelaine: yeah, obviously. \n\njerry: i mean, if were gonna be friends, we gotta be able to talk about other people. \n\nelaine: couldnt agree more. \n\njerry: good. \n\nelaine: good. \n\njerry: good. \n\nelaine: great! \n\njerry: great? where do you get great? \n\nelaine: its great to... talk about... other people... \n\njerry: ...guys? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\njerry: uh-huh. yeah. so, anybody specific? \n\nelaine: no. a general guy. \n\njerry: oh really? elaine marie benes... \n\nelaine: what? no, its not a big deal. \n\njerry: no, thats great! thats terrific! \n\nelaine: no, we just met... \n\njerry: doesnt matter. whats the young mans name? i would like to meet him. \n\nelaine: hmmm, i dont think so. \n\njerry: well, what does he do? is he an artisan, a craftsman, a labourer of some sort? \n\nelaine: wall street. \n\njerry: ah, high finance. bulls, bears, people from conneticut. \n\nelaine: and he happens to be pretty good lookin. \n\njerry: (pause) all right, sir. \n\nelaine: and... hes hilarious. \n\njerry: now thats not fair! so where did you meet this guy? \n\nelaine: i staked out his health club. \n\njerry: uh huh. when youre on a stakeout, do you find its better to stand up against the wall, or kinda crouch down behind a big plant? \n\njerry: yknow i think that even if youve had a relationship with someone, or lets say, especially if youve had a relationship with someone and you try to become friends afterwards, its very difficult. isnt this? its hard. because, you know each other so well, you know all of each others tricks. its like two magicians, trying to entertain each other. the one goes, look, a rabbit. the other goes, so? i believe this is your card. look, why dont we just saw each other in half and call it a night, okay? \n\njerry: so i move into the centre lane, now i get ahead of this women, who felt for some reason i guess, that she thought that i cut her off. so, she pulls up along side of me, gives me the finger. it seems like such an arbitrary, ridiculous thing to just pick a finger and you show it to the person. its a finger, what does it mean? someone shows me one of their fingers and im supposed to feel bad. is that the way its supposed to work? i mean, you could just give someone the toe, really, couldnt you? i would feel worse if i got the toe, than if i got the finger. cause its not easy to give someone the toe, youve gotta get the shoe off, the sock off and drive, get it up and... (jerry pretends to drive with one foot in the air, giving the toe.) look at that toe, buddy. (he puts his foot down.) i mean, thats really insulting to get the toe, isnt it? \n\njerry: is that it? got the cue tips, got the mini-umbrella, something boring to read on the plane. (jerry zips his bag ceremoniously.) thats it. done! \n\nelaine: (claps her hands) that is the single greatest packing performance i have ever seen. \n\njerry: (proudly) i am...the master packer. \n\nelaine: (laughs) yeah, right, youre the master packer. \n\njerry: what you must understand, elaine, (picking up the umbrella) packing is no different than leading men into battle. (jerry hits his bag rhythmically with his umbrella.) youve gotta know the strengths and weaknesses of every soldier in that platoon. from a collapsible toothbrush to a pair of ordinary black socks. \n\nelaine: (raising her hand) scuse me, master packer... \n\njerry: yes. \n\nelaine: just gimme your keys. \n\njerry: all right, sir. (he tosses elaine his keys. the apartment buzzer goes off; jerry presses the first button; to the intercom) george? \n\ngeorge: (from the intercom) yeah. \n\nelaine: okay, so, now, is there anything else i need to know about this place? \n\njerry: uh, yeah, the, uh, hot water takes a little while to come on. so, the best thing to do is to turn it on, do all your shopping, you come back and take a shower. \n\nelaine: okay, this is quite a place. \n\njerry: theres more. the refrigerator. \n\njerry: deduct a minimum of two days off all expiration dates. (he uses the umbrella to point to certain compartments in the fridge.) no meat, no leftovers, no butter. (he closes the fridge.) and i cannot overstate this no soft cheeses of any kind. is that clear? \n\nelaine: ill eat out. \n\njerry: one more thing, benes, regarding sexual activity strictly prohibited, but if you absolutely must, do us all a big favour. do it in the tub. \n\ngeorge: (to jerry) ready? \n\njerry: yeah, one sec. \n\ngeorge: hey, elaine. \n\nelaine: hi. \n\ngeorge: coming to the airport with us? \n\nelaine: no, im staying here for the weekend. im getting a break from my roommate. \n\ngeorge: oh, the actress-waitress? \n\nelaine: no, the waitress-actress. she just got some part in some dinner theater production of a chorus line. so, now all day long shes walking around the apartment singing, god, i hope i get it, i hope i get it! shes gonna get it right in her... \n\ngeorge: so just kick her out. \n\nelaine: shes on the lease! george you have got to find another place for me. \n\ngeorge: yeah, well...a little rough finding something good in your price-range. (to jerry) but you, my friend, may be in luck. \n\njerry: im not looking. \n\ngeorge: no no no, this ones different. this ones a beauty! \n\njerry: yeah, whats it like? \n\ngeorge: i havent seen it yet, but its a two-bedroom, its on the uh, west 83rd, bout a half block from the park? \n\njerry: how much? \n\ngeorge: uh, twice what youre payin here, but its a great building. its two bedrooms! \n\njerry: two bedrooms? why do i need two bedrooms? i got enough trouble maintaining activity in one. (george gives elaine a look while jerrys back is turned. jerry turns around.) i saw that. \n\nelaine: you oughta at least take a look at it. \n\njerry: really? why? \n\nelaine: cause then i could move in here. \n\njerry: ohhhh... \n\nelaine: its time you got outta here anyway. \n\ngeorge: yeah, tell im. but quickly, im double parked here. \n\nelaine: listen, jerry, this place is falling apart. you have no hot water, you cant have soft cheese... \n\ngeorge: lets not forget the radiator. the steam has been on here for ten years. no human can turn this off. \n\nelaine: jerry, come on, youre doin okay now. you should at least take a look at this place. you shouldnt have to live like this. \n\njerry: like this? you just said you wanted to live here. \n\nelaine: well, for me its a step up. its like moving from iceland to finland. \n\ngeorge: jerry, what do you, you wanna, you wanna see the place or not? \n\njerry: i cant think about it now. come on, im going to minneapolis. i got four shows this weekend. \n\njerry: elaine. (jerry puts his bags down, sits down on the couch, picks up the remote control and points it at the spot the tv usually occupies. the tv is not there. he continues to point the remote at random things around the room, searching for the tv.) elaine! \n\nelaine: (from the bathroom) jerry! (elaine enters the living-room.) jerry, oh, hi, welcome back. how were the shows? \n\njerry: great, i had fun. wheres the tv, wheres the vcr? \n\njerry: what? \n\nelaine: they were stolen. \n\njerry: stolen? when? \n\nelaine: a couple a hours ago. the police are coming right over. \n\njerry: stolen? \n\nelaine: (looking at kramer) someone left the door open. \n\njerry: (to kramer) you left the door open?! \n\nkramer: uh, jer, well you know, i was cookin and i, i uh, i came in to get this spatula...and i left the door open, cause i was gonna bring the spatula right back! \n\njerry: wait, you left the lock open or the door open? \n\nkramer: (guiltily) the door. \n\njerry: the door? you left the door open? \n\nkramer: yeah, well, i was gonna bring the spatula right back. \n\njerry: yeah, and? \n\nkramer: well, i got caught up... watching a soap opera. the bold and the beautiful. \n\njerry: so the door was wide open? \n\nkramer: wide open! \n\njerry: (to elaine) and where were you? \n\nelaine: i was at bloomingdales... waiting for the shower to heat up. \n\nkramer: look, jerry, im sorry, im uh- you have insurance, right buddy? \n\njerry: no. \n\nkramer: (shocked) how can you not have insurance? \n\njerry: because i spent my money on the clapgo d-29. its the most impenetrable lock on the market today. it has only one design flaw. the door... (jerry pushes the door shut.) ...must be closed!! \n\nkramer: jerry! im gonna find your stuff. im gonna solve it, im on the case, buddy, im on the case. \n\njerry: yeah, dont investigate, dont pay me back, it was an accident. \n\nkramer: (theatrical) i made a mistake. \n\nelaine: these things happen. \n\nkramer: im human. \n\njerry: in your way. \n\npoliceman: lets see, thats, one tv, a stereo, one leather jacket, a vcr and a computer...is that bout it? \n\nelaine: answering machine. \n\njerry: (disappointed) answering machine. (jovially) oh, i hate the idea of somebody out there returning my calls. \n\npoliceman: what do you mean? \n\njerry: its a joke. \n\npoliceman: i see. well, mister seinfeld uh, well look into it and uh, well let you know if we uh, you know, if we find anything. \n\njerry: you ever find anything? \n\npoliceman: no. \n\njerry: well, thanks anyway. \n\npoliceman: you bet. \n\nelaine: i didnt get that joke either. \n\njerry: the crook has the machine. the messages arent for him. hes the crook. why would he answer- (jerry gives up on the explanation and turns around to see george standing behind him.) how did you get in here? \n\ngeorge : i walked in, your lobby door is broken again. \n\njerry: again? \n\ngeorge: i dont know how you put up with this. \n\nelaine: yeah, tell im george. \n\njerry: (to elaine) you would still wanna move in here? \n\nelaine: yes! you dont understand. im living with ethel merman without the talent. \n\njerry: (to george) is that uh, other apartment still available? \n\njerry: i got ripped off for about the...18th time? and now, the first couple a times you go through it, its very upsetting and your first reaction or one of your friends will say, call the police. you really should call the police. so you think to yourself, you know, you watch tv, you think, yeah, im calling the police. stakeouts, manhunts... im gonna see some real action. right, you think that. so, the police come over to your house, they fill out the report. they give you your copy. now, unless they give the crook his copy, i dont really think were gonna crack this case, do you? its not like batman, where theres three crooks in the city and everybody pretty much knows, who they are. very few crooks even go to the trouble to come up with a theme for their careers anymore. it makes them a lot tougher to spot. did you lose a sony? it could be the penguin. i think we can round him up, hes dressed like a penguin! we can find him, hes a penguin! \n\nelaine: oh, well, come on. this is an apartment, this is a home! this is a place to live. oooh, a fireplace, are you kidding me! does this work? \n\ngeorge: i didnt know there was a fireplace. a fireplace, that's incredible. \n\njerry: how do you get all that wood in here? \n\nelaine: they deliver it. \n\njerry: they deliver wood? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\njerry: what do you tip a wood guy? \n\ngeorge: i didnt know there was a fireplace. \n\nelaine: look! look at- look at this! theres a garden. \n\ngeorge: a garden! i cant believe theres a garden! \n\njerry: would i have to get a gardener? \n\nelaine: yeah, you can get a gardener. \n\njerry: you tip him? \n\nelaine: you can. \n\ngeorge: (to elaine) you dont tip a gardener! \n\nelaine: you can tip a gardener. \n\ngeorge: you dont need a gardener. \n\nelaine: jerry, you can barbecue back here. \n\njerry: they deliver the coal? \n\nelaine: sure, its...probably the same guy, who delivers the wood. \n\njerry: oh, then i gotta tip him. \n\nelaine: oh, damn, this place is incredible, look at all this great light! \n\njerry: i dont have any plants. \n\ngeorge: i have plants. (snorts) \n\nelaine: jerry, look at this closet! look at this! im walking in it! (elaine walks into the closet.) its a walk-in. can you believe it? im nuts about this, what do you think? \n\njerry: i like that. (he opens the closet. elaine walks out with an angry look.) what do you think, george? \n\ngeorge: its your decision. \n\njerry: im takin it, im takin the place. im gonna take it, this is gonna be my new place. im livin here...im movin. \n\nelaine: (laughing with joy) your movin? that means im movin. (she hugs jerry.) geeeeee (to george) isnt that incredible! \n\ngeorge: (unenthusiastic) congratulations. \n\nelaine: what about the couch? \n\njerry: you like the couch? ill tell you what im gonna do. \n\nelaine: what? \n\njerry: youre movin in, youre a good friend, i wanna start you off on the right foot. give me...a hundred and fifty dollars. (elaine is shocked, jerry opens the door to the hall.) get it outta here right now, take it out the door, i dont even wanna see it, go, get it out. \n\nelaine: a hundred and fifty dollars? a hundred and fifty dollars for what? for this couch? \n\njerry: yeah! \n\nelaine: for this couch?! \n\njerry: okay, you tell me. what is it worth? \n\nelaine: okay, uh, ill tell you what. i could go as high as uh... (she takes a closer look at couch.) i dont know, maybe...twenty dollars? \n\njerry: yeah? \n\ngeorge: (from the intercom) yeah, its george. \n\njerry: come on up. (jerry presses the second button and opens the apartment door. he walks back to the couch.) oh, all right, forget it, im gonna take it with me now... (he picks up the cushions.) im just gonna pack up the cushions right now... \n\nelaine: okay okay okay okay, you win. forty dollars. \n\njerry: (continuing unphased) you wanna get the other end, cause i wanna get it in the hall. \n\nelaine: fifty dollars, okay? fifty dollars, is that all right? \n\njerry: fifty dollars? \n\nelaine: uh-huh. \n\njerry: thank you very much. \n\nelaine: thank you very much. \n\ngeorge: hey, whats goin on? \n\nelaine: i just bought jerrys couch for fifty dollars. \n\njerry: (to george) so did you bring the lease? (george takes the lease from his inside pocket and hands it to jerry.) all right, gee, three years, that kinda seems like a long time. \n\ngeorge: (frantic) oh, jerry jerry jerry jerry jerry, listen, if, if you are feeling uncomfortable about this at all, at all. do not feel like you have to take it. \n\njerry: why? \n\ngeorge: if youre having second thoughts, if you didnt want it, dont worry about it because uh, you know, i, i...i could take it, you know. \n\njerry: you could take it? you want it? \n\ngeorge: no, i dont want it. i want it, if you dont want it. \n\njerry: so you do want it. \n\ngeorge: no i, i want it if you dont want it. \n\njerry: you just said you wanted it! \n\ngeorge: no, im saying, if a situation arose in which you didnt want it, i might take it. \n\njerry: so take it. \n\ngeorge: how can i take it? \n\njerry: how can i take it? \n\ngeorge: its your apartment! \n\njerry: how can i want it now, if you want it? \n\nelaine: excuse me, uh, i dont mean to cause any trouble here, but george, if you take it, can i take your place? \n\ngeorge: yes, but i am not taking it. \n\njerry: i...am not taking it. \n\nelaine: well, one of you better damn well take it! \n\njerry: well, whaddaya wanna do here? \n\ngeorge: i, i dont know. \n\njerry: do you wanna flip a coin? \n\ngeorge: who flips? youll flip, ill call. \n\njerry: okay, fine. (jerry takes a coin from his pocket.) this is the official flip. no crying, no guilt, winner takes all and thats it. agreed? \n\ngeorge: im good. \n\nelaine: i dont know, who to root for, georges place has carpeting. \n\njerry: all right, now you call it in the air. \n\ngeorge: no catchin. \n\njerry: no no. \n\ngeorge: flip it. \n\ngeorge: heads! \n\njerry: tails! \n\ngeorge: no, it hit the table, it hit the table. \n\njerry: so what? \n\ngeorge: interference! you cant count that! come on, are you crazy?! the coin cannot touch anything, it affects it. \n\njerry: you didnt call no interference! \n\ngeorge: you dont have to call that! thats a rule! \n\njerry: i dont believe this. \n\ngeorge: oh oh oh, all right, fine, jerry, you win. take it, just take it! \n\njerry: i dont wanna win it like this! elaine, what do you think? \n\nelaine: id better not. \n\njerry: well, ill tell you what. ill choose you for it. straight choose, three takes it, no disputes...thats it, you gotta win three. \n\ngeorge: okay. (they walk around each other.) ok. ill choose you. whaddaya want? \n\njerry: odds. \n\ngeorge: i want evens. \n\njerry: good. \n\ngeorge: you got odds. \n\njerry: you got evens. \n\ngeorge: right, ready? \n\njerry: for the apartment. \n\nboth: once, twice, three, shoot! \n\njerry: mine! \n\nboth: once, twice, three, shoot! \n\njerry: mine! \n\nboth: once, twice, three, shoot! \n\ngeorge: mine! \n\nboth: once, twice, three, shoot! \n\ngeorge: congratulations...congratulations. \n\njerry: thanks. \n\ngeorge: i'm just gonna...wash. (george walks to the bathroom; screaming) why did i put up two? why did i put up two? \n\nkramer: jerry, i think im on to something. i think i found your stuff. you know the englishman who lives down the hall? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nkramer: the last couple a days hes been acting very strange. i think hes avoiding me. \n\njerry: hard to imagine. \n\nkramer: yeah! and get this i just got off the elevator with him and i tested him, i tested him, like i...this is what i said to him, like i, i was like this, i went, oh, by the way, i know about the stuff. \n\nkramer: ..you know, very casually, \n\njerry: right. \n\nkramer: (cont'd) so that he was gonna take me into his confidence. \n\nelaine: so what did he say? \n\nkramer: what stuff? \n\njerry: ooh, (to elaine) case closed! \n\nkramer: no, you dont understand, you see, he swallowed. see, the guy, he swallowed. oh, he was nervous about something! now, im gonna go over there, im gonna borrow some tea. if i dont get back in five minutes, maybe youd better call the police. \n\njerry: okay, starting...now! \n\nkramer: yeah! \n\njerry: one of the problems in life is that when youre a kid, you have a certain way of working out disagreements. and those laws do not work in the adult world. one of the main ways that kids resolve any dispute is by calling it. one of them says, i got the front seat i wanted the front seat! i called it. and the other kid knows hes got nothing to say he called it. what can i do? if there was a kid court of law, it holds up. your honour, my client did ask for the front seat and the judge would go, did he call it? well no, he didnt call- bang! (jerry imitates a judge banging his gavel.) he has to call it, case closed. objection overruled. \n\ngeorge: i love the mirror in that bathroom! i dont know what in the hell it is. i look terrific in that mirror. (george sits.) i dont know if its the tile or the lighting... i feel like robert wagner. \n\njerry: its a good mirror. (they look at their menus.) so, what are you gettin? \n\ngeorge: i dont know, i cant eat. you, you cant have anything anymore. look at this, look at this. eggs out. coffee out. french fries out. blt out! i go to visit my grandparents three big brisket sandwiches, im sittin here with a carrot! theyre closing in on a hundred, im sayin to them, how can you eat that stuff? (they look at their menus again.) im so sick about losin that choose, you dont know. \n\njerry: all right, forget it, forget it. im not taking the place! \n\ngeorge: what?! \n\njerry: how can i live there? \n\ngeorge: why not?! \n\njerry: look at you, youre still thinking about it. ill never feel comfortable. \n\ngeorge: oh, get outta here. \n\njerry: how can i ever have you over? youll sit there moping. \n\ngeorge: i wont mope. \n\njerry: youre already moping! would you take the place? \n\ngeorge: no, impossible! its your apartment. \n\njerry: you found the place. \n\ngeorge: you won the choose. \n\njerry: all right, forget it, its over, im not moving. \n\ngeorge: well, me neither. \n\njerry: definitely? \n\ngeorge: definitely. \n\njerry: alright, then just get rid of it. you wont have any problem. \n\ngeorge: no, its not a problem, i can get rid of the apartment this afternoon. \n\ncarol: what apartment? \n\ngeorge: oh, its a great place, its uh two-bedroom uh, west 83rd bout half block from the park. \n\ncarol: whats the rent? \n\ngeorge: i dont know, what were doin here, this is ridiculous. \n\njerry: she wanted to thank us for the apartment. \n\nelaine: i cant believe i lost the deposit on that u-haul. and i threw out my couch. \n\njerry: if only the coin hadnt hit the table. \n\ngeorge: the table is interference, you know it! \n\njerry: it is not! \n\ngeorge: it is too! \n\nelaine: my roommate starts rehearsal tonight on carousel. \n\ncarol: hi. \n\ngeorge: hi, carol. \n\ncarol: i just wanted to introduce you to my husband, this is larry. \n\ncarol: this is george, elaine and jerry. these are the guys who got us the apartment. \n\nlarry: oh, you dont know how grateful i am, if theres anything i can ever do to repay you, i, i mean, were just so thrilled with this place. \n\ncarol: its a dream. \n\nlarry: im running in the park now, ive lost weight, were barbecuing every night and the rent is unbelievable. \n\ngeorge: were really glad for you. \n\nelaine: couldnt be happier. \n\njerry: its wonderful. \n\ncarol: diane, diane, come here. \n\ncarol: this is my new next door neighbour, diane. \n\ncarol: (to diane) these are the guys, who turned this place down, can you believe it? (to jerry, george and elaine) diane gave me the greatest backrub today. shes a masseuse! \n\ndiane: how, how could you guys have turned this place down, its such a great location and its...so close to the park. \n\ngeorge: were aware of the proximity to the park, yes. \n\ndiane: well, it was nice to meet you. \n\ngeorge: nice meeting you. \n\njerry: how late are the stores open? im thinking of maybe uh, buying a new tv and smash it over my head. \n\nman #1: i get a call from gilmour this morning, and get this theyre restructuring the organization in atlanta and i gotta be there on the first of the month. \n\nman #2: really? what are you gonna bout the apartment? \n\nman #1: well, what can i do? give it up. \n\njerry, george & elaine: whats the rent? \n\njerry: most men like working on things. tools, objects, fixing things. this is what men enjoy doing. have you ever noticed a guys out in his driveway working on something with tools, how all the other men in the neighborhood are magnetically drawn to this activity. they just come wandering out of the house like zombies. men, its true, men hear a drill, its like a dog whistle. just... (his head perks up) you know, they go running up to that living room curtain, honey, i think jims working on something over there. so they run over to the guy. now they dont actually help the guy. no, they just want to hang around the area where work is being done. thats what men want to do. we want to watch the guy, we want to talk to him, we want to ask him dumb questions. you know, what are you using, a phillips-head? you know, we feel involved. thats why when they have construction sites, they have to have those wood panel fences around it, thats just to keep the men out. they cut those little holes for us so we can see what the hell is going on. but if they dont cut those holes, we are climbing those fences. right over there. what are you using the steel girders down there? yeah, thatll hold. \n\ngeorge: i had to say something. (chuckles) i had to say something. everything was going so well. i had to say something. \n\njerry: i dont think you did anything wrong. \n\ngeorge: i told her i liked her. why? why did i tell her i like her? i have this sick compulsion to tell women how i feel. i like you i dont tell you. \n\njerry: we can only thank god for that. \n\ngeorge: im outta the picture. i am outta the picture. (laughs) its only a matter of time now. \n\njerry: youre imagining this. really. \n\ngeorge: oh, no. no no no no. \n\ngeorge: ill tell you when it happened. when that floss came flying out of my pocket. \n\njerry: what floss? when? \n\ngeorge: we were in the lobby during the intermission of the play. i was buying her one of those containers of orange drink, for five dollars. i reached into my pocket to pay for it, i looked down; theres this piece of green floss hanging from my fingers. \n\njerry: ah, mint. \n\ngeorge: of course. so, im looking at it. i look up, i see shes looking at it. our eyes lock. it was a horrible moment. i just.. \n\njerry: so let me get this straight. she saw the floss, you panicked and you told her you liked her. \n\ngeorge: if i didnt put that floss in my pocket, id be crawling around her bedroom right now looking for my glasses. \n\njerry: and youre sure the floss was the catalyst? \n\ngeorge: yes, i am. \n\njerry: you dont think it mightve had anything to do with that? \n\ngeorge: what? you dont like this? \n\njerry: it looks like your belt is digesting a small animal. \n\nkramer: (to the phone) oh, theyve got a cure for cancer. see, its all big business. oh hey, jerry just walked in. hi, george. (to the phone again) yeah yeah yeah yeah take my number. 555-8643. okay, here he is. \n\njerry: (to kramer) who is it? \n\nkramer: take it. \n\njerry: who is it? \n\nkramer: its for you. \n\njerry: (to the phone) hello? (disappointed) oh, hi joel. (jerry hits kramer with a magazine.) no. uh, i was out of town. i just got back. kramer doesnt know anything. hes just my next-door neighbor. uh, nothing much... tuesday? uh, tuesday, no. im meeting somebody... uh, wednesday? wednesdays okay... all right. uh, im a little busy right now. can we talk wednesday morning?... okay... yeah... right... thanks... bye. (jerry hangs up; to kramer) why did you put me on the phone with him? i hate just being handed a phone. \n\nkramer: well, its your phone. he wanted to talk to you. \n\njerry: maybe i didnt want to talk to him. \n\nkramer: well, why not? \n\njerry: he bothers me. i dont even answer the phone anymore because of him. hes turned me into a screener. now i gotta go see him on wednesday. \n\ngeorge: what do you mean wednesday? i though we had tickets to the knick game wednesday. we got seats behind the bench! what happened? were not going? \n\njerry: were going. thats next wednesday. \n\ngeorge: oh. who is this guy? \n\njerry: his name is joel horneck. he lived like three houses down from me when i grew up. he had a ping pong table. we were friends. should i suffer the rest of my life because i like to play ping pong? i was ten. i wouldve been friends with stalin if he had a ping pong table. hes so self-involved. \n\nkramer: thats for me. (to the phone) kramerica industries. oh, hi, mark. no no no. forget that. i got a better idea. a pizza place where you make your own pie... \n\njerry: can you conduct your business elsewhere? \n\nkramer: (ignoring jerry) no no no. im talking about a whole chain of em. yeah. \n\ngeorge: i dont know why you even bother with this ping pong guy, ill tell you that. \n\njerry: i dont bother with him. hes been calling me for seven years. ive never called him once! hes got the attention span of a five-year-old. sometimes i sit there and i make up things just to see if hes paying attention. \n\ngeorge: i dont understand why you spend time with this guy. \n\njerry: what can i do? break up with him? tell him, i dont think were right for each other. hes a guy! at least with a woman, theres a precendent. you know, the relationship goes sour, you end it. \n\ngeorge: no no no no, you have to approach this as if he was a woman. \n\njerry: just break up with him? \n\ngeorge: absolutely. you just tell him the truth. \n\njerry: the truth. \n\njerry: as a guy i dont know how i can break up with another guy. you know what i mean? i dont know how to say, bill, i feel i need to see other men. do you know what i mean? theres nothing i can do. i have to wait for someone to die. i think thats the only way out of this relationship. it could be a long time. see, the great thing about guys is that we can become friends based on almost nothing. just two guys will just become friends just because theyre two guys. thats almost all we need to have in common. cause sports sports and women is really all we talk about. if there was no sports and no women the only thing guys would ever say is, so, whats in the refrigerator? \n\njoel: ...so my shrink wants me to bring my mother in for a session. this guy is a brilliant man. lenny bruce used to go to him. and i think, uh, geraldo. \n\njerry: you know, i read the lenny bruce biography, i thought it was really... interesting. he would- \n\njoel: (to the counter of the restaurant) hey hey hey hey, were starving here! weve been waiting here for ten minutes already! \n\njerry: (testing joel) so, im thinking about going to iran this summer. \n\njoel: i have to eat! i mean, im hypoglycemic. \n\njerry: anyway, the hizballah has invited me to perform. (joel shakes his head agreeing; jerry smiles) you know, its their annual terrorist luncheon. \n\njoel: yeah. \n\njerry: (cont'd) im gonna do it in farsi. \n\njoel: do you think i need a haircut? \n\nclaire: are you ready? \n\njerry: yeah, ill have the egg salad on whole wheat. \n\njoel: (to the waitress) let me ask you a question. this, uh, this turkey sandwich here, is that real turkey, or is it a turkey roll? i dont want that processed turkey. (to jerry) i hate it. \n\nwaitress: i think its real turkey. \n\njoel: is there a real bird in the back? \n\nwaitress: no, theres not bird but- \n\njoel: well, how do you know for sure? look, why dont you do me a favor. why dont you go in the back and find out, okay? (the waitress leaves.) unbelievable. \n\njerry: how can you talk to someone like that? \n\njoel: what are you saying? what, you like turkey roll? \n\njerry: listen, joel. theres something i have to tell you... \n\njoel: (laughing) wait, youll never guess who i ran into. \n\njerry and joel: howard metro. \n\njoel: he asked me if i still saw you. i said, sure, i see him all the time. were still great friends. anyway, howard says hello. (laughs) \n\njerry: listen, joel, i dont think we should see each other anymore. \n\njoel: what? \n\njerry: this friendship its not working. \n\njoel: not working? what are you talking about? \n\njerry: were just not suited to be friends. \n\njoel: how can you say that? \n\njerry: look, youre a nice guy, its just that... we dont have anything in common. \n\njoel: (starting to cry) wai-wait. what did i do? tell me. i want to know what i did. \n\njerry: y-you didnt do anything. its not you, its me. its- this is very difficult. \n\njoel: look, i know i call you too much, right? i mean, i know youre a very busy guy. \n\njerry: no, its not that. \n\njoel: (crying) youre one of the few people i can talk to. \n\njerry: oh, come on. thats not true. \n\njoel: i always tell everybody about you. tell everybody to (to the rest of the coffee shop) go see his show! (to jerry) i mean, im your biggest fan! \n\njerry: i know, i know. \n\njoel: i mean, youre my best friend. \n\njerry: best friend- ive never been to your apartment. \n\njoel: i cannot believe that this is happening. i cant believe it. \n\njerry: okay, okay. forget it. its okay. i didnt mean it. \n\njoel: didnt mean what? \n\njerry: what i said. ive been under a lot of stress. \n\njoel: oh, youve been under a lot of stress. \n\njerry: just, can we just forget the whole thing ever happend? im sorry. i didnt mean it. i took it out on you. were still friends. were still friends. still friends. okay? look, ill tell you what. ive got knick tickets this wednesday. great seats behind the bench. you want to come with me? come on. \n\njoel: tonight? \n\njerry: no, next wednesday. if it was tonight, i wouldve said tonight. \n\njoel: do you really want me to go? \n\njerry: (lying) yes. \n\njoel: okay. (jerry gives him some napkins to clean himself up) yeah, okay. great! that would be, thatd be great. so, next wednesday. \n\njerry: next wednesday. \n\njoel: where is that waitress? (to the counter) hey! \n\ngeorge: ...she calls me up at my office \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: (cont'd) she says, we have to talk. \n\njerry: ugh, the four worst words in the english language. \n\ngeorge: that, or whos bra is this? \n\njerry: that is worse. \n\ngeorge: so we order lunch, and were talking. finally, she blurts out how its not working. \n\njerry: really. \n\ngeorge: so, im thinking, as shes saying this, im thinking great, the relationships over. but the egg salads on the way. so now i have a decision do i walk or do i eat? \n\njerry: hm. you ate. \n\ngeorge: we sat there for twenty minutes, chewing, staring at each other in a defunct relationship. \n\njerry: someone says, get out of my life, and that doesnt affect your appetite? \n\ngeorge: have you ever had their egg salad? \n\njerry: it is unbelievable. \n\ngeorge: its unbelievable. you know what else is unbelievable? i picked up the check. she didnt even offer. she ended it. the least she could do is send me off with a sandwich. \n\njerry: how much could you possibly have in there? \n\ngeorge: its my money. what should i do? throw it out the window? i know a guy who took his vacation on his change. \n\njerry: yeah? whered he go, to an arcade? \n\ngeorge: (sarcastically) thats funny. youre a funny guy. \n\njerry: cmon, move up. \n\ncustomer: oh great, ewings hurt. \n\ngeorge: ewings hurt? how long is he going to be out? \n\ncustomer: a couple of days at the most but... \n\ngeorge: geez. \n\njerry: oh, god. \n\ngeorge: i got scared there for a second. the knicks without ewing. \n\njerry: listen, george, little problem with the game. \n\ngeorge: what about it? \n\njerry: the thing is, yesterday, i kind of.. uh.. \n\ngeorge: what? \n\njerry: i gave your ticket to horneck. \n\ngeorge: (not believing him) you what?! \n\njerry: yeah, im sorry. i had to give it to horneck. \n\ngeorge: no! my ticket?! you gave my ticket to horneck? \n\njerry: cmon, cmon, go ahead, move up. \n\ngeorge: why did you give him my ticket for? \n\njerry: you didnt see him. it was horrible. \n\ngeorge: oh, cmon, jerry. i cant believe this. \n\njerry: i had to do it. \n\ngeorge: oh, please. (to the teller) can you change this into bills? \n\nteller: im sorry, sir. we cant do that. \n\njerry: do you want to go with him? you go. i dont mind. \n\ngeorge: im not going with him. i dont even know the guy. (to the teller) look, they did this for me before. \n\nteller: look, i can give you these and you can roll them yourself. \n\ngeorge: you want me to roll six thousand of these?! what, should i quit my job?! \n\njerry: no, i do not like the bank. ive heard the expression laughing all the way to the bank. i have never seen anyone actually doing it. and those bank lines. i hate it when theres nobody on the line at all, you know that part, you go to the bank, its empty and you still have to go through the little maze. (walking on the stage like he is going through a maze) can you get a little piece of cheese for me? im almost at the front. id like a reward for this please. \n\ngeorge: ...thirty-two, thirty-three- \n\njerry: george. \n\ngeorge: not now. \n\njerry: could you stop the counting? \n\ngeorge: nnnnnnngaaa! \n\ngeorge: what?! \n\njerry: can i make it up to you? ill give you fifty bucks for the jug. \n\ngeorge: oh, yeah, sure. keep your money. \n\njerry: well, then im not going to the game either. okay? ill give him both tickets. \n\ngeorge: oh geeeee. (george pantomimes sticking a knife in his heart, and twists it.) go, go! \n\njerry: i- no, i dont want to go. \n\ngeorge: he was really crying? \n\njerry: i had to give him a tissue. in fact, let me call his machine now and ill just make up some excuse why i cant go to the game either. \n\ngeorge: wait a minute. wait a minute. as long as youre going to lie to the guy, why dont you tell him that you lost both of the tickets, then we can go? \n\njerry: george, the man wept. \n\nkramer: oh, hey guys. man, im telling you, this pizza idea, is really going to happen. \n\ngeorge: this is the thing where you go and you have to make your own pizza? \n\nkramer: yeah, we give you the dough, you smash it, you pound it, you fling it in the air. and then you get to put your sauce and you get to sprinkle your cheese, and then- you slide it into the oven. \n\ngeorge: you know, you have to know how to do that. you cant have people shoving their arms into a six-hundred degree oven! \n\nkramer: its all supervised. \n\ngeorge: oh, well... \n\nkramer: all of it. you want to invest? \n\ngeorge: my moneys all tied up in change right now. \n\nkramer: no, im tellin you, people, they really want to make their own pizza pie. \n\njerry: i-i have to say something. with all due respect, i just never- i cant imagine anyone in any walk of life, under any circumstance, wanting to make their own pizza pie... but thats me. alright \n\nkramer: thats you. \n\njerry: im just saying..alright. \n\nkramer: okay, okay. i just wanted to check with you guys. \n\njerry: okay. \n\nkramer: you know, this business is going to be big. i just wanted- okay. \n\nkramer: one day, youll beg me to make your own pie. \n\njerry: (to the phone) hi, joel. this is jerry. i hope you get this before you- oh, hi. joel... oh, you just came in... listen, i cant make it to the game tonight... i, uh, have to tutor my nephew... yeah, hes got an exam tomorrow... geometry... you know, trapezoids, rhombus... anyway, listen, you take the tickets. theyre at the will-call window... and im really sorry... have a good time... well talk next week... okay... yeah, i dont... fine.. fine... bye. \n\ngeorge: trapezoid? \n\njerry: i know. im really running out of excuses with this guy. i need some kind of excuse rolodex. \n\nelaine: come on, lets go do something. i dont wanna just sit around here. \n\njerry: okay. \n\nelaine: want to go get something to eat? \n\njerry: where do you want to go? \n\nelaine: i dont care, im not hungry. \n\njerry: we could go to one of those uh cappuccino places. they let you just sit there. \n\nelaine: what are we gonna do there? talk? \n\njerry: we could talk. \n\nelaine: ill go if i dont have to talk. \n\njerry: then well just sit there. \n\nelaine: okay. im gonna check my machine first. (elaine sees a pad of paper by the phone; reading) picking someone up at the airport, jury duty, waiting for cable guy... \n\njerry: okay, just hand that over, please. \n\nelaine: oh, what is this? \n\njerry: its a list of excuses, its for that guy, horneck, whos at the game tonight with my tickets. i have that list now so in case he calls, i just consult it and i dont have to see him. (elaine laughs.) i need it. (elaine starts writing on the list.) what are you doing? \n\nelaine: i got some for you. \n\njerry: i dont need any more. \n\nelaine: no no no no no, these are good. listen, listen you ran out of underwear, you cant leave the house. \n\njerry: (not amused) very funny. \n\nelaine: how about youve been diagnosed as a multiple personality. youre not even you. youre dan. \n\njerry: im dan. can i have my list back, please? \n\nelaine: here, here. jerry seinfeld, i cannot believe youre doing this. this is absolutely infantile. \n\njerry: what can i do? \n\nelaine: deal with it. be a man! \n\njerry: oh no. thats impossible. id rather lie to him for the rest of my life that go through that again. he was crying. tears. accompanied by mucus. \n\nelaine: you made a man cry? ive never made a man cry. i even kicked a guy in the groin once and he didnt cry. i got the cab. \n\njerry: couple of tough monkeys. \n\nkramer: oh, hi elaine, hey. (to jerry) hey, you missed a great game tonight, buddy! \n\njerry: game? \n\nkramer: knick game. horneck took me. we were sitting two rows behind the bench. we're getting hit by sweat! \n\njerry: wait. how does horneck know you? \n\nkramer: last week. when i, you know, gave you the phone. hes really into my pizza place idea! \n\njerry: this is too much. \n\nelaine: wait, what pizza place idea? \n\njerry: oh, no. \n\nkramer: you get to make your own pie! \n\nelaine: oh, that sounds like a great idea. it would be fun. \n\nkramer: yea. \n\njoel: (from the hallway) kramer. \n\nkramer: yeah. \n\njerry: perfect. \n\njoel: hey. \n\nkramer: okay, who wants meatloaf? \n\njerry & elaine: no thanks. \n\nkramer: (to joel) its gonna be hot in a minute. \n\njoel: so, i though you were tutoring your nephew? \n\njerry: oh, we finished early. \n\njoel: m-hm, ill bet. so, are you going to introduce me to your nephew? \n\njerry: elaine benes, this is joel horneck. \n\nelaine: hi. \n\njoel: whoa, nelson! this is elaine? i though you guys split? \n\njerry: were still friends. \n\njoel: so, thanks again for those tickets. but next week, im going to take you. how about next tuesday night? (to elaine) and why dont you come along? \n\nelaine: oh, no no. tuesdays uh no good becasue weve got choir practice. \n\njerry: right. i forgot about choir. \n\nelaine: we-were doing that evening of eastern european national anthems. \n\njerry: right. you know, the wall being down and everything. \n\njoel: what about thursday night? i mean theyre playing the sonics. \n\nelaine: huh... thursday is no good because weve got to get to the hospital to see if we qualify as those organ donors. \n\njoel: you know, i should really try something like that. \n\njerry: you really should. \n\njoel: well, lets just take a look here. \n\njoel: forty-one home games. let's see saturday night weve got the mavericks. if you dont like the mavericks, next tuesday lakers. i mean, you gotta like magic, right? lets see, on the road, on the road, on the road, on the road, back on the fourteenth. they play the bulls. you cant miss air jordan... \n\njerry: you know, i really... ive come to the conclusion that there are certain friends in your life that theyre just always your friends, and you have to accept it. you see them, you dont really wanna see them. you dont call them, they call you. you dont call back, they call again. the only way to get through talking with people that you dont really have anything in common with is to pretend youre hosting your own little talk show. this is what i do. you pretend theres a little desk around you. the only problem with this is theres no way you can say, hey, its been great having you on the show. were out of time. \n\njerry: went out to dinner the other night. check came at the end of the meal, as it always does. never liked the check at the end of the meal system, because moneys a very different thing before and after you eat. before you eat, money has no value. and you dont care about money when youre hungry. you sit down at a restaurant, youre like the ruler of an empire. more drinks, appetizers, quickly, quickly! it will be the greatest meal of our lives. then after the meal, you know, youve got the pants open, youve got the napkins destroyed, cigarette butt in the mashed potatoes. then the check comes at that moment. people are always upset, you know. theyre mystified by the check. what is this? how could this be? they start passing it around the table, does this look right to you? were not hungry now. why are we buying all this food? \n\njerry: i think superman probably has a very good sense of humor. \n\ngeorge: i never heard him say anything really funny. \n\njerry: but its common sense. hes got super strength, super speed. im sure hes got super humor. \n\ngeorge: you would think that, but either youre born with a sense of humor, or youre not. its not going to change even if you go from the red sun of krypton all the way to the yellow sun of the earth. \n\njerry: why? why would that one area of his mind not be affected by the yellow sun of earth? \n\ngeorge: i dont know. but he aint funny. \n\nelaine: i know, i know. im sorry im late. \n\njerry: no problem. \n\nelaine: i dropped a grape. \n\ngeorge: pardon? \n\nelaine: i dropped a grape in the kitchen and it disappeared. i couldnt find it. i was, i was literally on my knees for ten minutes looking for this stupid grape. i have no idea where it went. \n\njerry: were you crying? i mean, its just a grape. youll find it. \n\nelaine: no, im just getting over an allergy attack. this guy im going out with... \n\njerry: robert. \n\nelaine: robert. yes. thank you. he has two cats and im allergic to them. you know, i finally meet a normal man, and i cant even go into his apartment, you know. and, of course, my apartment is the actors studio so we cant go there. its really causing a lot of problems, you know. he wont even go away for the weekend because of these cats. \n\ngeorge: guys with cats... i dont know. \n\njerry: ive been thinking about asking this girl im, uh, seeing- \n\nelaine: vanessa. \n\njerry: vanessa, thank you. ive been thinking about asking her to go away for a couple of days. \n\ngeorge: oh, no. no no no no no. id have to advise against that. what, do you know this woman a month? lets see, youre going to be with her seventy-two hours. thats a dating decathlon. \n\nelaine: (balancing a spoon on her nose) hey, why dont you take her to that place in vermont i was telling you about? you know, that really charming place with the separate faucets for the hot and cold. shell love it. \n\ngeorge: thats exquisite. listen, uh, if its not too much trouble, could you pass me that paper over there? \n\njerry: you better find that grape before it mutates into another life form. there was once a mutant grape that terrorized an entire town in the texas panhandle. they brought in the army, nobody could stop it. apparently it had a pit of steel. \n\ngeorge: up again?! this is incredible! im.. im getting it. \n\nelaine: youre getting what? \n\ngeorge: a stock. \n\njerry: what stock? \n\ngeorge: did you ever meet my friend, simons? \n\njerry: maybe. \n\ngeorge: he knows this guy, wilkinson. he made a fortune in the stock market. now hes got some new thing. you know, theres supposed to be a big merger. he wasnt even supposed to say anything. you guys should think about doing this too. \n\njerry: how highs it suppose to go? \n\ngeorge: i dont know. but simons said that if i wanted to get involved, that wilkinson would tell me the exact right minute to sell. you wanna do it? \n\njerry: boy... i dont know. \n\nelaine: id do it but i dont have any money. \n\njerry: what kind of company is it? \n\ngeorge: its called sendrax. theyve got some new kind of technique for televising opera. \n\nelaine: televising opera? \n\ngeorge: some sort of electronic thingy. \n\njerry: well, how much are you going to invest? \n\ngeorge: five thousand... ten. ten thousand. five thousand. \n\njerry: boy... \n\ngeorge: cmon. wilkinsons got millions invested in this stock. its gone up three points since ive been watching it. \n\njerry: what if i lose it? \n\ngeorge: cmon, go for twenty-five hundred. well do it together. come on, come on. were in it together. \n\njerry: all right. twenty-five hundred. \n\ngeorge: thats it. \n\nwaitress: yeah, can i take your order? \n\ngeorge: (gesturing to jerry) check the raiser. \n\njerry: my bet? all right. ill open with a tuna sandwich. \n\nelaine: tuna? \n\njerry: oh, the dolphin thing? \n\nelaine: theyre dying in the nets. \n\njerry: ohhh... you know, the whole concept of lunch is based on tuna. \n\nelaine: jerry, cant you incorporate one unselfish act in your daily routine? \n\njerry: hey, when im driving, i let people in ahead of me all the time. im always waving everybody in. go ahead, go ahead, go ahead. ...all right. all right. ill have a chicken salad. \n\nelaine: and im going to have an english muffin with margarine on the side and a cup of coffee. \n\nwaitress: okay. (to george) what about you? \n\ngeorge: ill have the tuna. \n\njerry: i have to say, those people talking behind us really ruined that movie for me. \n\nvanessa: why didnt you do something? \n\njerry: what do you want me to do? i gave the guy the half-turn. (acts like he did in the movie) then i gave him the full-turn with the eye roll. (does the next look) i mean, beyond that, im risking a punch in the mouth. (to a stock boy) excuse me, do you have these in the puffs? \n\nstock boy: no puffs. just flakes. \n\njerry : have you thought any more about that trip? \n\nvanessa: yeah, ive been thinking about it. \n\njerry: you know, my friend told me about this great place in vermont. \n\nvanessa: i dont know. i just worry about trips like this. its a lot of pressure. \n\njerry: its great! it speeds up the intimacy level. its like putting the relationship in a time compressor. where we would be six months from now we accomplish (snaps his fingers) three days. \n\nvanessa: oh, so you want to move our relationship into phase two? \n\njerry: exactly. i love phase two. extra toothbrushes, increased phone call frequency, walking around naked. you know, the presents get a lot better in phase two. \n\nvanessa: really? could we go fishing up there? \n\njerry: yeah. we can fish. what? blues, carp, marlin? \n\nvanessa: they have marlin in vermont? \n\njerry: oh, big fighting marlin. (jerry acts like he is catching a marlin) \n\nvanessa: jerry, the stock is the same as when you checked it earlier. there are no changes after the market closes. the stock is still down. \n\njerry : i know. but this is a different paper. i thought maybe they have, uh, different... sources. \n\njerry: is that my paper? \n\nkramer: bad news, my friend. \n\njerry: what? what news? \n\nkramer : sendrax. \n\njerry: oh, cmon! its down again?! \n\nkramer: two and a half points. \n\njerry: oh, i cant believe it. let me see that. (jerry takes the paper.) thats four and a half points in three days! thats almost half my money! \n\nkramer: hey, i told you. \n\njerry: (sarcastic) yeah, you told me. \n\nkramer: its all manipulated with junk bonds. you cant win. \n\njerry: theres one thing i dont understand. why does it please you? (to the phone) george costanza, please. \n\nkramer: hey, i dont care. im just telling you to (yelling) get rid of that stock, now! \n\njerry: (to the phone) george, whats going on?! \n\nkramer: sell it, just say im selling! \n\njerry: (to the phone) well, where is the guy?!... nothing?! almost half my moneys gone... well, call me right back. (jerry hangs up.) nobody can reach wilkinson. he hasnt been home or in his office in the past three days! \n\nkramer: you know, i cant believe you put your money in that sendrax. and you couldve invested in my roll-out tie dispenser. \n\njerry: roll-out tie dispenser? what was that one? \n\nkramer: okay, youre in a restaurant. youve got a very big meeting coming up... \n\njerry: okay... \n\nkramer: (looks at his shirt as if he had a tie on) oh man, you got mustard on your tie! \n\njerry: (going along with it) oh no! \n\nkramer: you just (makes the tearing sound) tear it off, and vvvvrrrpppp you got a new one right here. then youre gone. \n\njerry: youre gone all right. \n\nkramer: (looking at map) hey, where, where are you going? you gonna take a trip? the map... what... \n\njerry: yeah, im going to vermont with uh vanessa for a few days. \n\nkramer: hey, can i use your place? i got a bunch of friends coming over this weekend. \n\njerry: what friends? \n\nkramer: well, its just some people i met at a rock concert. (phone rings.) do you mind if they use your bed? (jerry give kramer a look.) cause theyre really good people, jerry. im telling you. you know, theyre anarchists. theyre.. theyre.. theyre.. huge. \n\njerry: george- what?! youre kidding... well, whats wrong?... so, what are we gonna do?... great!... all right, ill speak to you later. (he hangs up.) wilkinson, the guy whos supposed to tell us when to sell the stock, hes in the hospital. \n\njerry: so you dont know whats wrong with him? \n\ngeorge: all simons was able to find out is that hes in the hospital. \n\njerry: okay, fine. has simons been in touch with him? \n\ngeorge: of course hes been in touch with him. hes left two messages. he just hasnt heard back yet, thats all. \n\njerry: well, this is it. im selling. \n\ngeorge: just give it a little more time. \n\njerry: i never shouldve gotten involved in this. im a nervous wreck. im not cut out for investing. \n\ngeorge: all right, all right. thats it. im gonna go down there. \n\njerry: where? \n\ngeorge: to the hospital. \n\njerry: the hospital? \n\ngeorge: im going to find out whats going on. all right? \n\njerry: are you nuts? you dont even know the guy. \n\ngeorge: so what? ill start talking to him, you know, casual, and ill work my way around to it. \n\njerry: what if hes in an iron lung or something? what are you gonna do? (jerry knocks on imaginary glass.) how you feeling, mr. wilkinson? (he makes a hissing sound.) by the way, whats happening with sendrax? \n\ngeorge: maybe hes resting. \n\njerry: who goes to the hospital to rest? \n\ngeorge: what are you, a doctor? \n\njerry: okay, fine, fine. when are you going down there? \n\ngeorge: today. im going today. just dont do anything until you hear from me. \n\njerry: all right. \n\ngeorge: (to the woman) boy, i have to get to a bathroom. \n\ndry cleaner: (to jerry) may i help you? \n\njerry: yeah. i picked up this shirt here yesterday. its completely shrunk. theres absolutely no way i can wear it. \n\ndry cleaner: when did you bring it in? \n\njerry: whats the difference? look at it! do you see the size of this shirt?! \n\ndry cleaner: you got a receipt? \n\njerry: i cant find the receipt. \n\ndry cleaner: you should get the receipt. \n\njerry: look, forget about the receipt, all right? even if i had the receipt- look at it! its a hand puppet. what am i gonna do with this?! \n\ndry cleaner: yes, but how do i know we did the shirt? \n\njerry: what do you think this is a little scam i have? i take this tiny shirt all over the city conning dry cleaners out of money? in fact, forget the money. i dont even want the money. i just once, i would like to hear a dry cleaner admit that something was their fault. thats what i want. i want an admission of guilt. \n\ndry cleaner: maybe you asked for it to be washed. \n\njerry: no! dry-cleaned. \n\ndry cleane: let me explain to you something, okay? with certain types of fabrics, different chemicals can react, causing- \n\njerry: you shrunk it! you know you shrunk it! just tell me that you shrunk it! \n\ndry cleaner: (looks around making sure not too many people are listening) i shrunk it. \n\njerry: i think the only reason we go to the dry cleaner is so i can say to the dry cleaner, well, its ruined. and of course, the dry cleaner can respond, its not our fault. were not responsible. we just ruin the clothes. that ends our legal obligation. you see, the whole problem with dry cleaning is that we all believe that this is actually possible. th-right? theyre cleaning our clothes, but theyre not getting anything wet. its all dry. i know theres gotta be some liquids back there, some fluids that theyre using. theres no such thing as dry cleaning. when you get something on your shirt, ever get something on your shirt and try to get it off like that (jerry brushes off his shirt.) thats dry cleaning. i dont think thats what theyre doing back there. they dont have eighty guys going, come on, hurry up! theres a lot of shirts today! \n\njerry: bless you. \n\nelaine: thank you. what evidence is there that cats are so smart, anyway? huh? what do they do? because theyre clean? i am sorry. my uncle pete showers four times a day and he cant count to ten, so dont give me hygiene. \n\njerry : so what are you gonna do? \n\nelaine: i dont know. i cant think of any solution, unless of course they should meet with some unfortunate accident. what do you think a hit man would charge to rub out a couple of cats? \n\njerry: well, it couldnt be too expensive. thirteen, fourteen bucks a cat? \n\nelaine: what do you think, jerry? you wanna make twenty-eight bucks? \n\njerry: im no cat killer. \n\nelaine: how about we go over there right now and we shave them? \n\njerry: id really like to go, elaine. but, george is coming back from the hospital. i gotta wait for him. but otherwise i would definitely go. \n\nelaine: he actually went to the hospital? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nelaine: oh man, hes nuts. \n\njerry: yeah, hes nuts. you wanta bump off a couple of cats. (enter kramer, holding a paper up to jerry.) i know, i know. its down again. \n\nkramer: how much are you down altogether? \n\njerry: i dont know.. fifteen hundred dollars. \n\nkramer: wow. \n\njerry: you dont have to say wow. i know its wow. (kramer smiling) and theres that smile again. well, what is that? (intercom buzzes.) its george. \n\nkramer: oh, look at this one by the bus stop. jerry, come here. take a look at this. \n\njerry: i really dont need to look. \n\nkramer: what a body. yeeaahh. thats for me. \n\njerry: yeah, and youre just what shes looking for too a stranger leering through a pair of binoculars ten floors up. \n\nkramer: im gonna go down there and try and talk to her. \n\njerry: what? what? did you go down there? (george nods.) did he tell you whats gonna happen? (george shakes his head.) how long were you there? \n\ngeorge: fifteen seconds. \n\njerry: you told him you knew simons? \n\ngeorge: yeah, i mentioned simons. next thing i know, im in the parking lot. perhaps they had some sort of a falling out. ill tell you one thing. i dont know what hes got. but for a sick guy, hes very strong. \n\njerry: well, thats it. look, im going to vermont. i dont want to think about this. im selling. \n\nelaine: didnt work, huh? \n\ngeorge: (laughs) not quite. \n\nelaine: we-well, what are you gonna do about the stock? \n\ngeorge: im keeping it. im going down with the ship. \n\njerry: so i know this guy. im getting all my sneakers at a discount now. \n\nvanessa: i know. you mentioned it. \n\njerry: oh yeah, right. \n\njerry: (thinking) oh god. get me out of here. what a mistake. what made me think this would work? and ive still got another day! ive got nothing left to say. wait... wait... got one. (to vanessa) thats a nice watch. do you wind it? \n\nvanessa: no, its got a little battery. \n\njerry: well, thats good. \n\njerry: (thinking) well, the drive home should be a delight. im speeding the whole way. let them throw me in jail. i dont care. (to vanessa) that's the manager? do you want me to see if we can get another room? \n\nvanessa: no, its okay. \n\njerry: so, i guess you dont find the separate faucets for the hot and cold, charming? \n\nvanessa: not especially. \n\njerry: well, what do you want to do this afternoon? \n\nvanessa: what can we do? its raining. \n\njerry: we cold play sorry! we cold play steal the old mans bundle. (vanessa not amused; jerry thinking) maybe i can get an extension cord and hang myself. (to vanessa) what kind of perfume is that youre wearing? \n\nvanessa: oh, youve never heard of it. \n\njerry: no, what? what kind is it? \n\nvanessa: i cant tell you. \n\njerry: (thinking) yeah, thats normal. (to a man nearby) excuse me, sir. could i have a look at that business section? \n\nvanessa: that stock? i thought you got out of that? \n\njerry: i did. im just curious. its been almost a week. i want to check it out. (he finds the stock.) six points? (to vanessa) its up six points! \n\nvanessa: i told you not to sell. \n\njerry: you did not tell me not to sell. \n\nvanessa: i said the market fluctuates. remember? \n\njerry: look, vanessa, of course the market fluctuates. everybody knows that. i just got fluctuated out of four thousand dollars! \n\nvanessa: thats probably why we're- \n\njerry: what? \n\nvanessa: forget it. \n\njerry: no, what? thats probably why.. \n\nvanessa: thats probably why were staying here, because you lost money on the stock. \n\njerry: (thinking) so, what am i looking at here? twenty-nine hours to go. well, at least i got plenty of time to find out the name of that perfume... \n\ngeorge: (laughing) have something else. cmon, have a little dessert? \n\njerry : im good, thanks. \n\ngeorge: elaine, get something! its all taken care of. \n\nelaine: im kinda full. \n\ngeorge: so dont finish it. \n\njerry: (acidly) shes full. so, big daddy. im just curious. how much did you clear on your little transaction there, all told? \n\ngeorge: i dont like to discuss figures. \n\njerry: how much? \n\ngeorge: i dont know, what? eight thousand. its a hyundai. get out of here. i told you not to sell. simons made money, wilkinson cleaned up. \n\njerry: so, wilkinsons out of the hospital now? \n\ngeorge : no. youd be surprised. you dont recover that quickly from a nose job. \n\nelaine: oh god. \n\njerry: is that still from the cats? \n\nelaine: no, i just have a cold. \n\njerry: so, what ever happened with that? \n\nelaine: i gave him an ultimatum. \n\ngeorge: he chose the cats? \n\nelaine: theyre very clean animals. \n\njerry: i gotta say, thats pretty sad. losing out to a cat. \n\nelaine: almost as bad as losing out to a perfume. \n\ngeorge: i told you those trips were relationship killers. too bad you cant get your buddy superman to fly around the earth at super speed and reverse time. youd get all the money back, you could have avoided the whole trip to vermont... \n\nelaine: superman can go back in time? \n\njerry: we went over that. \n\ngeorge: pst. (moves in close with elaine and jerry) wilkinsons got a bite on a new one. petramco corp. out of, uh springfield. i think. theyre about to introduce some sort of a robot butcher. \n\njerry: a robot butcher? \n\ngeorge: shhhhh. if you want to get in, theres very little time. (calling to the waitress) sweetheart.. (waitress approaches and tears off a check. george stops her.) no, no, no. that ought to cover it. (he hands her some money; she turns to leave; george stops her.) just a second. just a... let me jus-peek... (he looks at the check, then takes some money out of her hand. george urges jerry and elaine to eat.) come on, come on, come on... \n\njerry: im not an investor. people always tell me, you should have your money working for you. ive decided ill do the work. im gonna let the money relax. you know what i mean? cause you send your money out there working for you a lot of times, it gets fired. you go back there, what happened? i had my money. it was here, it was working for me. yeah, i remember your money. showing up late. taking time off. we had to let him go. \n\njerry: im always in traffic with the lane expert. you know this type of person? constantly reevaluating their lane choice. never quite sure, is this the best lane for me? for my life? theyre always a little bit ahead of you, can i get in over there? could i get in over here? could i get in there? yeah, come on over here, pal. were zoomin over here. this is the secret lane, nobody knows about it. the ultimate, i think the ultimate psychological test of traffic is the total dead stop. not even rolling. and you look out the window, you can see gum clearly. so we know that in the future traffic will get even worse than that. i mean, what will happen? will it start moving backwords, i wonder? i mean, is that possible? that someday well be going, (jerry pretends hes driving in reverse.) boy, this is some really bad traffic now, boy. this, is really bad. im gonna try to get off and get back on going the other way. \n\ngeorge: she cant kill me right? \n\njerry: no, of course not. \n\ngeorge: people break up all the time. \n\njerry: everyday. \n\ngeorge: it just didnt work out. what can i do? i wanted to love her. i tried to love her. i couldnt. \n\njerry: you tried. \n\ngeorge: i kept looking at her face. id go, cmon, love her. love her! \n\njerry: did you tell her you loved her? \n\ngeorge: oh, i had no choice. she squeezed it out of me! shed tell me she loved me. all right, at first, i just look at her. id go, oh, really? or uh, boy, thats, thats something. but, eventually you have to come back with, well, i love you. you know, you can only hold out for so long. \n\njerry: youre a human being. \n\ngeorge: and i didnt even ask her out. she asked me out first. she called me up. what was i supposed to do? say no? (laughs) i cant do that to someone. \n\njerry: youre too nice a guy. \n\ngeorge: i am. im a nice guy. and she seduced me! we were in my apartment, im sitting on the couch, shes on the chair. i get up to go to the bathroom, i come back, shes on the couch. what am i supposed to do? not do anything? i couldnt do that. i wouldve insulted her. \n\njerry: youre flesh and blood. \n\ngeorge: i had nothing to do wtih any of this! i met all her friends, i didnt want to meet them. i kept trying to avoid it. i knew it would only get me in deeper. but they were everywhere! they kept popping up all over the place. this is nancy, this is susan, this is amy, this is my cousin, this is my brother, this is my father... its like im in quicksand. \n\njerry: i told you when i met her. \n\ngeorge: my back is killing me. \n\njerry: you gotta go to my chiropractor, hes the best. \n\ngeorge: oh yeah, everybodys guy is the best. \n\njerry: im gonna make an appointment for you. well go together. \n\ngeorge: please. they dont do anything. look, do i have to break up with her in person? cant i do it over the phone? i-i have no stomach for these things. \n\njerry: you should just do it like a band-aid. one motion! right off! \n\nelaine: hi. \n\njerry: hi. \n\nelaine: hey, what are you doing? \n\ngeorge: im letting you in. \n\nelaine: oh no. no. i dont want to sit in the back. ill be left out of the conversation. \n\ngeorge: no, you wont. \n\nelaine: yes, i will, george. ill have to stick my chin on top of the seat. \n\ngeorge: okay. \n\nelaine: why cant you sit in the middle? \n\ngeorge: please, it doesnt look good. boy, boy, girl. \n\nelaine: youre afraid to sit next to a man. youre a little homophobic, arent ya? \n\ngeorge: is it that obvious? \n\nelaine: hello, jerry. \n\njerry: hello. \n\nelaine: did you get a haircut? \n\njerry: no, shower. so, where are we eating? \n\nelaine: tell me if you think this is strange. theres this guy who lives in my building, who i was introduced to a couple of years ago by a friend. hes a uh teacher, or something. anyway, after we met, whenever wed run into each other on the street, or in the lobby, or whatever, we would stop and we would chat a little. nothing much. little pleasantries. hes a nice guy, hes got a family. then after a while, i noticed there was not more stopping. just saying hello and continuing on our way. and then the verbal hellos stopped, and we just went into these little sort of nods of recognition. so, fine. i figure, thats where this relationship is finally gonna settle polite nodding. then one day, he doesnt nod. like i dont exist?! he went from nods to nothing. \n\ngeorge: (singing; imitating tony bennett) you know, id go from nods to nothing... \n\nelaine: and now, theres this intense animosity whenever we pass. i mean, its like we really hate each other. its based on nothing. \n\njerry: a relationship is an organism. you created this thing and then you starved it so it turned against you. same thing happened in the blob. \n\ngeorge: i think you absolutely have to say something to this guy. confront him. \n\nelaine: really? \n\ngeorge: yes. \n\nelaine: you would do that? \n\ngeorge: if i was a different person. \n\njerry: hello... hello. is glen there?... im sorry. is this 805-555-3234?... yes, i know i have the wrong number, but i just want to know if i dialed wrong or if... \n\nkramer: (to the intercom) come on up. \n\njerry: (to the phone) oh, its you again. see, now if you had answered me, i wouldnt have had to do this. now thats two long distance calls i made to you why cant you... (the guy hangs up on jerry again; to nobody) why? why do they just hang up like that? thank you very much. \n\nkramer: taste this. \n\njerry: no, i just had a sandwich. \n\nkramer: no, taste it. taste it. \n\njerry: i dont want cantaloupe now. \n\nkramer: youve never had cantaloupe like this before... \n\njerry: i only eat cantaloupe at certain times... \n\nkramer: ...jerry. this is great cantaloupe. \n\njerry: ...all right! \n\nkramer: uh-huh. its good? \n\njerry: its very good. \n\nkramer: good, huh? \n\njerry: good. \n\nkramer: i got it at joes. \n\njerry: uh-huh. \n\nkramer: forty-nine cents a pound. thats practically half than what youre paying at the supermarket. i dont know why you dont go to joes. \n\njerry: its too far. \n\nkramer: its three blocks further. you can use my shopping cart.. \n\njerry: im not pulling a shopping cart. what, am i suppose to wear a kerchief? put stockings on and roll em down below my knee? \n\nkramer: see, the other thing is, if you dont like anything, he takes it right back. \n\njerry: i dont return fruit. fruit is a gamble. i know that going in. \n\ngeorge: im outta there. i did it! its over. \n\njerry: you did it? what happened? \n\ngeorge: i told her. in the kitchen which was risky cause its near all the knives. i started with the word listen. \n\njerry: uh-huh... \n\ngeorge: i said, listen marlene, and then the next thing i know, im in the middle of it. and theres this voice inside of me going, youre doing it! youre doing it! and then she started to cry, and i weakened a bit. i almost relented, but the voice, jerry, the voice said, keep going, keep going. youre almost out! its like i was making a prison break, you know, and im heading for the wall, and i trip and i twist my ankle, and they throw the light on you, you know. so, somehow i get though the crying and i keep running. then the cursing started. shes firing at me from the guard tower. son of a bang! son of a boom! i get to the top of the wall the front door. i opened it up, im one foot away, i took one last look around the penitentiary, and i jumped! \n\njerry: see, its never as bad as you imagine. \n\nkramer: i liked marlene. whats her number? \n\ngeorge: uh, no, i, i dont think so. \n\njerry: (to kramer) could you stop that smacking? \n\nkramer: george, i want you to taste this cantaloupe. \n\ngeorge: oh no, thank you. \n\nkramer: its the best cantaloupe i ever had. \n\ngeorge: no, really. no, no, thanks. \n\nkramer: jerry, tell him how good this cantaloupe is. \n\njerry: its very good cantaloupe. (kramer leaves; to george) so thats it? youre out? \n\ngeorge: except for one small problem. hah, i left some books in her apartment. \n\njerry: so, go get them. \n\ngeorge: oh, no no, i cant go back there. jerry, its so awkward and, you know, it could be dangerous sexually. something could happen, id be right back where i started from. \n\njerry: so forget about the books. did you read them? \n\ngeorge: well, yeah. \n\njerry: what do you need them for? \n\ngeorge: i dont know. theyre books. \n\njerry: what is this obsession people have with books? they put them in their houses like theyre trophies. what do you need it for after you read it? \n\ngeorge: theyre my books. \n\njerry: so you want me to get the books? is that it? \n\nmarlene: ...so, it mustve been ninety-five degrees that night, and everyones just standing around the pool with little drinks in their hands. i was wearing my old jeans and t-shirt. and i dont know, i was just in one of those moods. so i said to myself, marlene, just do it. and i jumped in. and as im getting out, i feel all these eyes on me, and i look up and everyone is just staring at me. \n\njerry: so whatd you do? \n\nmarlene: well, nothing. its no skin off my hide if people like to look. i just didnt see what the big attraction was. \n\njerry: well, i have a general idea what it was. i could take a guess. \n\nmarlene: hey, you know, jerry, just because george and i dont see each other anymore, it doesnt mean we shouldnt stay friends. \n\njerry: no. \n\nmarlene: good enough. im really glad we got that settled. \n\njerry: i dont know how this happened. \n\ngeorge: jerry, its not my fault. \n\njerry: no, no. its not your fault. books, books, i need my books. have you re-read those books yet, by the way? you know the great thing? when you read moby dick the second time, ahab and the whale become good friends. you know, its not like marlenes a bad person or anything, but, my god! i mean, weve had like three lunches and a movie, and she never stops calling. (george nods.) and its these meaningless, purposeless, blather calls. she never asks if im busy or anything. i just pick up the phone, and shes in the middle of a sentence! \n\ngeorge: it's standard. has she left you one of those messages where she uses up the whole machine? \n\njerry: (disgusted) ohh! you know, and sometimes shell go, (imitates marlene) hello, jerry? and ill go, oh, hi marlene. and then its jerry... \n\njerry & george: i dunno sometimes... \n\ngeorge: what trying to get off the phone? \n\njerry: (more disgusted) ohhhh! you cant! its impossible! theres no break in the conversation where you can go, all right then... you know, it just goes on and on and on without a break in the wall. i mean, i gotta put a stop to this. \n\ngeorge: just do it like a band-aid. one motion. right off! (beat) she is sexy though. dont you think? \n\njerry: yeah. yes, she is. \n\nreceptionist: mr. costanza? \n\ngeorge: yeah. \n\nreceptionist: the doctor will see you now. \n\ngeorge: (to jerry, sarcastically) yeah, doctor. im going to have to wait in that little room all by myself, arent i? (he picks up a crossword puzzle.) i better take this. i hate the little room. (george walks into the hallway that leads to the doctors office.) oh, hello, doctor. \n\njerry: the waiting room. i hate when they make you wait in the room. cause it says waiting room. theres no chance of not waiting. cause they call it the waiting room, theyre gonna use it. theyve got it. its all set up for you to wait. and you sit there, you know, and youve got your little magazine. you pretend youre reading it, but youre really looking at the other people. you know, youre thinking about about them. things like, i wonder what hes got. as soon as she goes, im getting her magazine. and then, they finally call you and its a very exciting moment. they finally call you, and you stand up and you kinda look around at the other people in the room. well, i guess ive been chosen. ill see you all later. you know, so you think youre going to see the doctor, but youre not, are you? no. youre going into the next waiting room the littler waiting room. but if they are, you know, doing some sort of medical thing to you, you want to be in the smallest room that they have, i think. you dont wnat to be in the largest room that they have. you know what i mean? you ever see these operating theaters, that they have, with like, stadium seating? you dont want them doing anything to you that makes other doctors go, i have to see this! are you kidding? are they really gonna do that to him? are there seats? can we get in? do they scalp tickets to these things? i got two for the winslow tumor, i got two... \n\njerry: so, how was it? \n\ngeorge: i was in there for two minutes. he didnt do anything. touch this, feel that seventy-five bucks! \n\njerry: well, its a first visit. \n\ngeorge: whats seventy-five bucks?! what, am i seeing sinatra in there?! am i being entertained? i dont understand this. im only paying half. \n\njerry: you cant do that. \n\ngeorge: why not? \n\njerry: hes a doctor. you gotta pay what he says. \n\ngeorge: oh, no no no. i pay what i say. \n\nmarlene: are you feeling weird? \n\njerry: no, im fine. \n\nmarlene: nothing really happened. \n\njerry: yeah, i know. \n\nmarlene: we just kissed a little. people kiss. \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nmarlene: well... night. \n\njerry: (belated) good night. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: i got it! this time, i got it! \n\njerry : all right. \n\nkramer: hips! see, its all hips. \n\njerry: uh-huh. \n\nkramer: you gotta come through with the hips first. \n\njerry: that is out there. \n\nkramer: joes? \n\njerry: no, supermarket. \n\nkramer: well, is it good? \n\njerry: its uh okay. \n\nkramer: let me taste it. \n\nkramer: see, that stinks. you cant eat that. you should take that back. \n\njerry: im not taking it back. \n\nkramer: all right, ill take it back. im going by there. \n\njerry: i dont care about it. \n\nkramer: jerry, you should care. cantaloupe like this should be taken out of circulation. \n\njerry: all right. take it back. \n\njerrys message: leave a message, ill call you back. \n\nmarlene: (from the phone) jerry, have you ever taken a bath in the dark? if im not talking into the soap right now, call me back. \n\nkramer: well? \n\njerry: marlene. \n\nkramer: (smiles) oh. oh, marlene... \n\njerry: yeah, i took her home one night we kinda started up a little bit in the car. \n\nkramer: i thought you were trying to get rid of her? \n\njerry: i was. but, shes got me, like, hypnotized. \n\nkramer: does george know? \n\njerry: no, hed go nuts. \n\nkramer: yeah, no kidding. \n\njerry: i feel terrible. (kramer smiling) i mean, ive seen her a couple of times since then, and i know i cant go any further, but... shes just got this like, psychosexual hold over me. i just want her, i cant breathe. its like a drug. \n\nkramer: whoa, psychosexual. \n\njerry: i dont know how im going to tell him. \n\nkramer: man, i dont understand people. i mean, why would george want to deprive you of pleasure? is it just me? \n\njerry: its partially you, yeah. \n\nkramer: youre his friend. better that she should sleep with someone else? some jerk that he doesnt even know? \n\njerry: well, he cant kill me, right? \n\nkramer: youre a human being. \n\njerry: i mean, she called me. i havent called her. she started it. \n\nkramer: youre flesh and blood. \n\njerry: im a nice guy. \n\nelaine: hi. \n\njerry: (excited) oh, my little airplane lamp. \n\nelaine: you know, you have the slowest elevator in the entire city. thats hard to get used to when youre in so many other fast ones. \n\njerry: well, the apartment elevators are always slower than the offices, because you dont have to be home on time. \n\nelaine: unless youre married to a dictator. \n\njerry: yeah... because they would be very demanding people. \n\nelaine: right. exactly. so i imagine at some point somebodys going to offer me some cantaloupe? \n\nkramer: nope. no good. \n\njerry: well, you know what they say. lucky in love, unlucky with fruit. \n\nkramer: well, im taking this back. \n\nelaine: so, i had what you might call a little encounter this morning. \n\njerry: really? that guy who stopped saying hello? \n\nelaine: yes. \n\njerry: you talked to him? \n\nelaine: yes. i spotted him getting his mail. and at first, i was just going to walk on by, but then i thought, no no no. no. do not be afraid of this man. \n\njerry: right. \n\nelaine: so, i walked up behind him and i tapped him on the shoulder. and i said, hi, remember me? and he furrows his brow, as if hes really trying to figure it out. so i said to him, i said, you little phony. you know exactly who i am. \n\njerry: you said \"you little phony\"? \n\nelaine: i did. i most certainly did. and he said, he goes, oh, yeah. youre jeanettes friend. we did meet once. and i said, well, how do you go from that to totally ignoring a person when they walk by? \n\njerry: this is amazing. \n\nelaine: and he says, he says, look, i just didnt want to say hello anymore, all right? and i said, fine. fine. i didnt want to say hello anymore either, but just i wanted you to know that im aware of it! \n\njerry: you are the queen of confrontation. youre my new hero. in fact, youve inspired me. im gonna call george about something right now. \n\nelaine: this cantaloupe stinks. \n\ngeorge: (considers for a second) i dont care. \n\njerry: youre kidding. \n\ngeorge: no, i dont care. \n\njerry: you mean that? \n\ngeorge: absolutely. \n\njerry: you dont care? \n\ngeorge: no. \n\njerry: how could you not care? \n\ngeorge: i dont know. but i dont. im actually almost happy to hear it. \n\njerry: i thought youd be upset. \n\ngeorge: i guess i should be, but im not. \n\njerry: am i a bad person? did i do something terrible? \n\ngeorge: youre a fine person. youre a humanitarian. shes very sexy. \n\njerry: that voice. that voice. shes driving me crazy. \n\ngeorge: i know. i know. \n\njerry: so i can see her tonight, and you dont care? \n\ngeorge: see her tonight. see her tomorrow. go. knock yourself out. shes too crazy for me. \n\njerry: all right. as long as youre okay. because i cant stop thinking about her. \n\ngeorge: im okay. im fine. im wonderful. i never felt better in my whole life. \n\njerry: good. and ill tell you what... you dont have to pay me back the thirty-five i gave to the chiropractor for the rest of your bill. \n\ngeorge: (shocked and angry) you paid that crook?! \n\njerry: i had to. \n\ngeorge: he didnt do anything, jerry. its a scam! who told you to do that? \n\njerry: it was embarrassing to me. \n\ngeorge: oh, i was trying to make a point. \n\njerry: why dont you make a point with your own doctor? (george gulps.) whats wrong? \n\ngeorge: (gasping) i think i swallowed a fly! i swallowed a fly! what do i do? (he turns to a coffee shop patron at the counter.) what can happen?! \n\njerry: so, you wanna come up for a few minutes? \n\nmarlene: im sorry, jerry. i just dont think this is gonna work. \n\njerry: really? i thought... \n\nmarlene: i know, im sorry. \n\njerry: gee, i just didnt expect it from the way youve been acting. \n\nmarlene: you sure you want to talk about this? cause i sure dont. \n\njerry: of course i want to talk about it. \n\nmarlene: well, okay. i guess things changed for me on tuesday night. \n\njerry: tuesday night? what happened tuesday night? \n\nmarlene: i saw your act. \n\njerry: my act? wha-what does that have to do with anything? \n\nmarlene: well, to be honest, it just didnt make it for me. its just so much fluff. \n\njerry: i cant believe this. so what are you saying? you didnt like my act, so thats it? \n\nmarlene: i cant be with someone if i dont respect what they do. \n\njerry: youre a cashier! \n\nmarlene: look, jerry, its just wasn't my kind of humor. \n\njerry: you cant go by the audience that night. it was late. they were terrible. \n\nmarlene: i heard the material. \n\njerry: i have other stuff. y-you should come see me on the weekend. \n\njerry: women need to like the job of the guy theyre with. if they dont like the job, they dont like the guy. men know this. which is why we make up the phony, bogus names for the jobs that we have. well, right now, im the regional management supervisor. im in development, research, consulting... men on the other hand if they are physically attracted to a woman are not that concerned with her job. are we? men dont really care. menll just go, really? slaughterhouse? is that where you work? that sounds interesting. so whaddaya got a big cleaver there? youre just lopping their heads off? that sounds great! listen, why dont you shower up, and well get some burgers and catch a movie. \n\njerry: my parents live in florida now. they moved there last year. they didnt want to move to florida, but theyre in their sixties, and thats the law. you know how it works. they got the leisure police. they pull up in front of the old peoples house with a golf cart, jump out, lets go pop, white belt, white pants, white shoes, get in the back. drop the snow shovel right there. drop it! i am not much for the family gathering. you know, you sit there, and the conversations so boring. its so dull. and you start to fantasize. you know, you think, what if i just got up and jumped out that window? what would it be like? just crashed right through the glass. you know. come back in, theres broken glass, everybodys all upset. no, im all right. i was just a little bored there. and uh no, im fine. i came back. i wanted to hear a little more about that hummel collection, aunt rose. lets pick it up right there. \n\nhelen: you have so many nice jackets. i dont know why you had to bring this jacket. who wears a jacket like this? whats wrong with that nice gray one? you have beautiful clothes. they sit in your closet. morty, you cant wear this! \n\nmorty: are you getting that? \n\nhelen: i thought you were getting it. \n\nmorty: should i pick up? \n\nhelen: you want me to get that? \n\nmorty: ill get it! \n\nhelen: ill get it! \n\nhelen: hello?... hello? \n\njerry: hi. \n\nhelen: hi. \n\njerry: (to morty) would you make this thing lower! i can hear it on the street! \n\nmorty: so, howd you do? \n\njerry: we won. i made an incredible play in the field! there was a tag-up at third base and i threw the guy out from left field on a fly! well be in the championship game wednesday because of me. it was the single greatest moment in my life. \n\nhelen: this is your greatest moment? a game? \n\njerry: well, no. sharon besser, of course. \n\nmorty: you know what my greatest moment was, dont you? nineteen-forty-six. i went to work for harry flemming and i came up with the idea for the beltless trenchcoat. \n\nhelen: jerry, look at this sport jacket. is this a jacket to wear to an anniversary party? \n\njerry: well, the mans an individualist he worked for harry flemming. he knows what hes doing. \n\nhelen: but its their 50th anniversary. \n\nmorty: your mother doesn't like my taste in clothing. \n\nhelen: you know, i spoke to manya and isaac on the phone today. they invited you again. i think you should go. \n\njerry: first of all, i made plans with elaine. \n\nhelen: so bring her. \n\njerry: i dont even know them. what is she, your second cousin? i mean, ive met them three times in my life. \n\nmorty: i dont know her either. (gesturing to helen) she makes me fly all the way from florida for this, and then she criticizes my jacket. \n\nhelen: at least come and say hello, have a cup of coffee, then youll leave. \n\nmorty: how come he gets to leave? \n\njerry: if i wind up sitting next to uncle leo, i am leaving. hes always grabbing my arm when he talks to me. i guess its because so many people have left in the middle of his conversation. \n\nmorty: and its always about jeffrey, right? \n\njerry: yeah. he talks about him like he split the atom. the kid works for the parks department. \n\nkramer: morty, are you coming in? \n\nmorty: oh, yeah. i forgot all about it. \n\nkramer: (to jerry) hey, howd you do? \n\njerry: we won. were in the finals on wednesday. \n\nkramer: yeah! \n\njerry: (to kramer and morty) what is this about? \n\nkramer: im completely changing the configuration of the apartment. youre not gonna believe it when you see it. a whole new lifestyle. \n\njerry: what are you doing? \n\nkramer: levels. \n\njerry: levels? \n\nkramer: yeah, im getting rid of all my furniture. all of it. and im going to build these different levels, with steps, and itll all be carpeted with a lot of pillows. you know, like ancient egypt. \n\njerry: you drew up plans for this? \n\nkramer: no no. its all in my head. \n\nmorty: i dont know how youre going to be comfortable like that. \n\nkramer: oh, ill be comfortable. \n\njerry: when do you intend to do this? \n\nkramer: ohh... should be done by the end of the month. \n\njerry: youre doing this yourself? \n\nkramer: its a simple job. why, you dont think i can? \n\njerry: oh, no. its not that i dont think you can. i know that you cant, and im positive that you wont. \n\nkramer: well, i got the tools. i got the pillows. all i need is the lumber. \n\nmorty: hey, thats some big job. \n\njerry: i, dont see it happening. \n\nkramer: well, this time, this time youre wrong. cmon. ill even bet you. \n\njerry: seriously? \n\nhelen: i dont want you betting. morty, dont let him bet. \n\nkramer: a big dinner with dessert. but ive got till the end of the month. \n\njerry: ill give you a year. \n\nkramer: no no no. end of the month. \n\njerry: its a bet. \n\njerry: (to elaine) seriously, do you wanna switch chairs? \n\nelaine: no, no. im fine. \n\nuncle leo: jerry, are you listening to this? \n\njerry: yeah, uncle leo. \n\nuncle leo: so, so, now the parks commissioner is recommending jeffrey for a citation. \n\njerry: right. for the reducing of the pond scum? \n\nuncle leo: no, for the walking tours. \n\njerry: oh, yeah. where the people eat the plant life. the edible foliage tour. \n\nuncle leo: thats exactly right. he knows the whole history of the park. for two hours hes talking and answering questions. but you want to know something? whenever he has a problem with one of these high-powered big shots in the parks department, you know who he calls? \n\njerry: mickey mantle? \n\nelaine: (saving jerry from leo) jerry, jerry. did you taste these peas? (to manya) these peas are great! \n\njerry: (eating a forkful) these peas are bursting with country fresh flavor. \n\nelaine: mmm... phenomenal peas. \n\nmorty: are you ready for dessert? \n\njerry: well, actually, we do have to kind of get going. \n\nmanya: (surprised) youre going? \n\nelaine: oh uh, i dont really eat dessert. im dieting. \n\njerry: yeah, i cant eat dessert either. the sugar makes my ankles swell up, and i cant dance. \n\nmanya : cant dance? \n\nhelen: hes kidding, manya. \n\nmanya: is that a joke? \n\nhelen: so, did you hear claires getting married? \n\nmanya: yeah, yeah.. \n\nhelen: i hear the fella owns a couple of racehorses. you know, trotters, like at yonkers. \n\njerry: horses? theyre like big riding dogs. \n\nelaine: what about ponies? what kind of abnormal animal is that? and those kids who had their own ponies... \n\njerry: i know, i hated those kids. in fact, i hate anyone that ever had a pony when they were growing up. \n\nmanya: (angry) i had a pony. \n\njerry: well, i didnt uh really mean a pony, per se... \n\nmanya: when i was a little girl in poland, we all had ponies. my sister had pony, my cousin had pony... so, whats wrong with that? \n\njerry: nothing. nothing at all. i was just merely expressing... \n\nhelen: should we have coffee? whos having coffee? \n\nmanya: he was a beautiful pony! and i loved him. \n\njerry: well, im sure you did. who wouldnt love a pony? who wouldnt love a person that had a pony? \n\nmanya: you! you said so! \n\njerry: no, see, we didnt have ponies. im sure at that time in poland, they were very common. they were probably like compact cars.. \n\nmanya: thats it! i had enough! \n\nisaac: have your coffee, everybody. shes a little upset. its been an emotional day. \n\njerry: i didnt know she had a pony. how was i to know she had a pony? who figures an immigrants going to have a pony? do you know what the odds are on that? i mean, in all the pictures i saw of immigrants on boats coming into new york harbor, i never saw one of them sittin on a pony. why would anybody come here if they had a pony? who leaves a country packed with ponies to come to a non-pony country? it doesnt make sense. am i wrong? \n\njerry: ill drive you to the airport. \n\nhelen: no, were taking a cab. \n\njerry: i just hope that whole pony incident didnt put a damper on the trip. \n\nhelen: dont be ridiculous. it was a misunderstanding. \n\nmorty: hey, i agree with him. nobody likes a kid with a pony. \n\njerry: well, if you ever talk to her, tell her im sorry. elaine too. she feels terrible. \n\nhelen: you know, you should give manya a call. \n\njerry: maybe i will. \n\nkramer: oh, hi. i uh just came to say goodbye. \n\nkramer: need any help with those? \n\nmorty: its nothing. i got it. so, how are your levels coming along? \n\nkramer: oh, well... i decided im not gonna do it. \n\njerry: (laughing) really? what a shock. \n\nhelen: goodbye, jerry. \n\njerry: take care. \n\nhelen: well call you. \n\nmorty: bye, jer. \n\njerry: bye, dad. take it easy. \n\nmorty: bye, mr. kramer. \n\nkramer: yeah. so long, morty. \n\njerry: so, when do i get my dinner? \n\nkramer: theres no dinner. the bets off. im not gonna do it. \n\njerry: yes, i know youre not gonna do it. thats why i bet. \n\nkramer: ya well, theres no bet if im not doing it. \n\njerry: thats the bet! that youre not doing it! \n\nkramer: yeah, well, i could do it. i dont wanna do it. \n\njerry: we didnt bet on if you wanted to. we bet on if it would be done. \n\nkramer: and it could be done. \n\njerry: well, of course it could be done! anything could be done! but it only is done if its done! show me the levels! the bet is the levels! \n\nkramer: i dont want the levels! \n\njerry: thats the bet! (the phone rings; jerry answers it.) hello?... no- oh, hi... (kramer leaves) no, they just left... oh, my god... hang on a second. maybe i can still catch em. (jerry goes over to the window and opens it; calling out the window) ma! ma! up here! dont get in the cab! manya died! manya died!! \n\nhelen: who did you talk to? \n\njerry: uncle leo. \n\nhelen: and whens the funeral? \n\njerry: i dont know. he said hed call back. \n\nmorty: you know what this means, dont you? we lost the supersaver. those tickets are non-refundable. \n\nhelen: she just had a check-up. the doctor said she was fine. unless... \n\njerry: what? \n\nhelen: what? nothing. \n\njerry: you dont think... what? the pony remark? \n\nhelen: oh, dont be ridiculous. she was an old woman. \n\njerry: you dont think that i killed her? \n\nmorty: you know what the flight backll cost us? \n\njerry: it was just an innocent comment! i didnt know she had a pony! \n\nmorty: maybe we can get an army transport flight. they got a base in sarasota, i think. \n\njerry: the whole thing was taking out of context. it was a joke. (the phone rings.) thats probably uncle leo. \n\nhelen: hello?... yes, i know... well, its just one of those things... sure, sure, well see you then. \n\nhelen: the funerals wednesday. \n\njerry: wednesday? what, what wednesday? \n\nhelen: two o clock, wednesday. \n\njerry: ah \n\nhelen: what? \n\njerry: ive got the softball game on wednesday. its the championship. \n\nhelen: so? youre not obligated. go play in your game. \n\njerry: i didnt even know the woman. \n\nhelen: so dont go. \n\njerry: i mean i met her three times. i dont even know her last name. \n\nhelen: jerry, no ones forcing you. \n\njerry: i mean, who has a funeral on a wednesday? thats what i want to know. i mean, its the championship, im hitting everything. \n\nhelen: i dont have a dress to wear. (to morty) and you. you dont have anything. \n\nmorty: i got my sport jacket. \n\nhelen: youre not wearing that to a funeral. \n\nmorty: whats wrong with it? \n\nhelen: it looks ridiculous. \n\nmorty: what? im gonna buy a new sport jacket now? \n\njerry: i dont know what to do. \n\nmorty: (depressed) you know what this funerals gonna wind up costing me? oh boy! \n\njerry: we dont understand death. and the proof of this is that we give dead people a pillow. and, uh, i mean, hey, you know. i think if you cant stretch out and get some solid rest at that point, i dont see how bedding accessories really make the difference. i mean, they got the guy in a suit with a pillow. now, is he going to a meeting, or is he catching forty winks? i mean, lets make up our mind where we think theyre going. \n\nelaine: i actually like ponies. i was just trying to make conversation. what times your game? \n\njerry: two forty-five. \n\nelaine: and what times the funeral? \n\njerry: two o clock. \n\nelaine: how long does a funeral take? \n\njerry: depends on how nice the person was. but you gotta figure, even oswald took forty-five minutes. \n\nelaine: so you cant do both? \n\njerry: you know, if the situation were reversed and manya had some mah-jongg championship or something, i wouldnt expect her to go to my funeral. i would understand. \n\nelaine: how can you even consider not going? \n\ngeorge: you know, ive been thinking. i cannot envision any circumstances in which ill ever have the opportunity to have sex again. hows it gonna happen? i just dont see how it could occur. \n\nelaine: you know, funerals always make me think about my own mortality and how im actually gonna die someday. me, dead. imagine that. \n\ngeorge: they always make me take stock of my life. and how ive pretty much wasted all of it, and how i plan to continue wasting it. \n\njerry: i know, and then you say to yourself, from this moment on, im not gonna waste any more of it. but then you go, how? what can i do thats not wasting it? \n\nelaine: is this a waste of time? what should we be doing? cant you have coffee with people? \n\ngeorge: you know, i cant believe youre even considering not playing. we need you. youre hitting everything. \n\nelaine: he has to go. he may have killed her. \n\njerry: me? what about you? you brought up the pony. \n\nelaine: oh, yeah, but i didnt say i hated anyone who had one. \n\ngeorge: (to jerry) whos going to play left field? \n\njerry: bender. \n\ngeorge: bender? he cant play left. he stinks. i just dont see what purpose is it gonna serve your going? i mean, you think dead peole care whos at their funeral? they dont even know theyre having a funeral. its not like shes hanging out in the back going, i cant believe jerry didnt show up. \n\nelaine: maybe shes there in spirit. how about that? \n\ngeorge: if youre a spirit, and you can travel to other dimensions and galaxies, and find out the mysteries of the universe, you think shes gonna wanna hang around drexlers funeral home on ocean parkway? \n\nelaine: george, i met this woman. she is not traveling to any other dimensions. \n\ngeorge: you know how easy it is for dead people to travel? its not like getting on a bus. one second. (snaps his fingers) its all mental. \n\njerry: fifty years they were married. now hes moving to pheonix. \n\nelaine: phoenix? whats happening with his appartment? \n\njerry: i dont know. theyve been in there since, like, world war ii. the rents three hundred a month. \n\nelaine: three hundred a month? oh, my god. \n\neulogist: although this may seem like a sad event, it should not be a day of mourning. for manya had a rich, fulfilling life. she grew up in a different world a simpler world with loving parents, a beautiful home in the country, and from what i understand, she eve had a pony. (jerry throws up his hands.) oh, how she loved that pony. even in her declining years, whenever she would speak of it, her eyes would light up. its lustrous coat, its flowing mane. it was the pride of krakow. \n\njerry: well, the games starting just about now. \n\nhelen: it was good that the two of you came. it was a nice gesture. \n\nnephew: im not a doctor yet, uncle morty. im just an intern. i cant write a note to an airline. \n\nmorty: youve got your degree. they dont care. they just want to see something. \n\njerry: i just wanted to say how sorry i was... \n\nuncle leo: jerry, you wanna hear something? your cousin, jeffrey, is switching parks. theyre transferring him to riverside - so hell completely revamp that operation, you understand? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nuncle leo: hell do in riverside what he did in central park. more money. so, thats your cousin. \n\nmorty: you dont understand, ive never paid a full fare. \n\njerry: once again, i just want to say how sorry i am about the other night. \n\nelaine: oh, me too. \n\nisaac: oh, no no no. she forgot all about that. she was much more upset about the potato salad. \n\nelaine: so, i understand youre moving to phoenix? \n\nisaac: yeah, my brother lives there. i think manya wouldve liked phoenix. \n\nelaine: mmm, gorgeous, exquisite town. so, whats happening with your apartment? \n\nisaac: of course its very hot there. ill have to get uh air conditioner. \n\nelaine: oh, you can have mine. ill ship it out to you. (isaac isn't listening to elaine) but what about that big apartment on west end avenue? \n\nisaac: although they say its a dry heat. \n\nelaine: dry, wet... (trying to get through to him) whats happening with your apartment? \n\nisaac: i dont even know if i should take my winter clothing. \n\nelaine: i have an idea. leave the winter clothing in the apartment, and ill watch it for you and ill live there and ill make sure that nothing happens to it. \n\nisaac: oh, the apartment. jeffreys taking the apartment. \n\nelaine: oh, jeffrey. \n\njerry: you know jeffery? \n\nelaine : yeah, from what i understand, he works for the parks department. \n\nhelen: its raining. \n\njerry: its raining? its raining. the game will be postponed. well play tomorrow. \n\nmorty: believe me, i wouldnt bother you if the army hadnt closed that base in sarasota. here, scribble a little something here. \n\nnephew: i cant. ill get in trouble. \n\nmorty: oh, for gods sake! \n\ngeorge: who gets picked off in softball? its unheard of. \n\njerry: its never happened to me before. \n\nelaine: i remember saying to myself, why is jerry so far off the base? \n\njerry: ill have to live with this shame for the rest of my life. \n\ngeorge: and then in the fifth inning, why did you take off on the pop fly? \n\njerry: i thought there were two outs. \n\nelaine: i couldnt believe it when i saw you running. (laughing) i thought maybe they had changed the rules or something. \n\njerry : it was the single worst moment of my life. \n\ngeorge: (smiling) what about sharon besser? \n\njerry: oh, well, of course. nineteen-seventy-three. \n\nelaine: makes you wonder, though, doesnt it? \n\njerry: wonder about what? \n\nelaine: you know... (looking up) the spirit world. \n\njerry: you think manya showed up during the game and put a hex on me? \n\nelaine: i never saw anyone play like that. \n\njerry: but i went to the funeral. \n\nelaine: yeah, but that doesnt make up for killin her. \n\ngeorge: maybe manya missed the funeral because she was off visiting another galaxy that day. \n\njerry: dont you think she woulda heard i was there? \n\ngeorge: not necessarily. \n\njerry: who figures and immigrants gonna have a pony? \n\njerry: what is the pony? what is the point of the pony? why do we have these animals, these ponies? what do we do with them? besides the pony ride. why ponies? what are we doing with them? i mean, police dont use them for, you know, crowd control. (jerry crouches down, and makes like hes riding a pony.) hey, uh, you wanna get back behind the barricades. hey! hey, little boy. yeah, im talking to you. behind the barricades! so somebody, i assume, genetically engineered these ponies. do you think they could make them any size? i mean, could they make them like the size of a quarter, if they wanted? that would be fun for monopoly, though, wouldnt it? just have a little pony and you put him on the... baltic, thats two down, go ahead. hold it. right there. baltic. yeah, thats it. fine. right there, hold it right there. \n\njerry: i hate clothes, okay? i hate buying them. i hate picking them out of my closet. i cant stand every day trying to come up with little outfits for myself. i think eventually fashion wont even exist. it wont. i think eventually well all be wearing the same thing. cause anytime i see a movie or a tv show where theres people from the future or another planet, theyre all wearing the same thing. somehow they decided, this is going to be our outfit. one-piece silver jumpsuit, v-stripe, and boots. thats it. we should come up for an outfit for earth. an earth outfit. we should vote on it. candidates propose different outfits. no speeches. they walk out, twirl, walk off. we just sit in the audience and go, that was nice. i could wear that. \n\njerry : i think ive seen enough. \n\nsalesman: well, i might have something in the back. \n\nelaine: the back? they never find anything in the back. if they had anything good in the back, theyd put it out in the front. \n\njerry: why dont they open up an entire store for the back? call it, just back. all back; no front. you walk in the front, youre immediately in the back. (jerry picks up a tie display, and shakes it rhythmically from left to right.) look, elaine, tie carwash. \n\ncustomer: oh, i just read that. thats terrific. \n\njerry: (pointing to elaine) her father wrote that. \n\ncustomer: alton benes is your father? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\ncustomer: i always felt he deserved a wider audience. \n\nelaine: im not so sure he wants one. \n\nelaine: hey, dont forget sunday, okay? you and george are coming, right? hotel westbury, eight oclock. \n\njerry: i guess im coming. i mean... \n\nelaine: what? what, you dont want to go now? \n\njerry: no, ill go. im going. \n\nelaine: no, jerry, you have to. i need a buffer. you know, i havent seen my father in a while and... you know... \n\njerry: im worried i wont be able to talk to him. hes such a great writer. frankly, i prefer the company of nitwits. \n\nelaine: so, thats why were not together anymore. \n\njerry: what is this? \n\njerry: this is beautiful. these jackets never fit me right. \n\nelaine: try it on. \n\nelaine: wow, this is soft suede. \n\njerry: this may be the most perfect jacket i have ever put on. \n\njerry: how much is it? \n\nelaine: (shocked) oh my god. \n\njerry: bad? (elaine nods.) very bad? \n\nelaine: you have no idea. \n\njerry: i have some idea. \n\nelaine: no idea. \n\njerry: ive got a ballpark. \n\nelaine: there is no park and the team has relocated. \n\njerry: let me see that. (jerry looks at the tag.) that is high. \n\nelaine: oh man, that is a beautiful jacket, though. \n\njerry: whats with the pink lining and the candy stripes? \n\nelaine: well, its just a lining. you can always have it changed. \n\njerry: should i get it? i hate these moments. im hearing the dual voices now, you know, what about the money? whats money? \n\nsalesman: it looks wonderful on you. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: hey. new jacket? \n\njerry: what do you think? \n\nkramer: its beautiful. \n\njerry: is it me? \n\nkramer: thats definitely you. \n\njerry: really? \n\nkramer: thats more you than youve ever been. hey, what is with the pink lining? \n\njerry: i dont know. its got a pink lining. \n\nkramer: oh... so, what did you pay for this? \n\njerry : i paid what it costs. \n\nkramer: how much? \n\njerry: whats the difference? \n\nkramer: what, youre not gonna tell me? \n\njerry: id rather not say it out loud. its embarrassing. \n\nkramer: over three hundred? \n\njerry: yes, but lets just stop it right there. \n\nkramer: its over four hundred? \n\njerry : really, im not answering anymore. \n\nkramer: is it over four hundred? \n\njerry: would you? \n\nkramer: woah, nelson! \n\njerry: i know, i know. \n\nkramer: what are you gonna do with the leather one? \n\njerry: i dont know. \n\nkramer: well, are you gonna wear it? \n\njerry: maybe. \n\nkramer: youre not going to wear this. \n\njerry: do you want it? \n\nkramer: well, yeah. okay. ill take it. i like the jacket. \n\njerry: okay, take it. \n\nkramer: heey, good karma for you. (kramer puts on jerrys old jacket and stands next to jerry, looking in the mirror.) oh baby. \n\ngeorge: (singing) master of the house/doling out the charm/ready with a handshake and an open palm/tells a saucy talk/loves to make a stir/everyone appreciates a... \n\njerry: what is that song? \n\ngeorge: oh, its from les miserables. i went to see it last week. i cant get it out of my head. i just keep singing it over and over. it just comes out. i have no control over it. im singin it on elevators, buses. im singin it in front of clients. its taken over my life. \n\njerry: you know, schumann went mad from that. \n\ngeorge: artie schuman? from camp hatchapee? \n\njerry: no, you idiot. \n\ngeorge: what are you, bud abbott? what are you callin me an idiot? \n\njerry: you dont know robert schumann? the composer? \n\ngeorge: oh, schumann. of course. \n\njerry: he went crazy from one note. he couldnt get it out of his head. i think it was an a. he kept repeating it over and over again. he had to be institutionalized. \n\ngeorge: really? (jerry nods his head) well, what if it doesnt stop? oh, that i really needed to hear. that helps a lot! all right, just say something. just start talking. change the subject. lets just go, all right? i cant believe were having dinner with alton benes. \n\njerry: i know exactly whats gonna happen tonight. im gonna try and act like im not impressed, hes gonna see right through it. \n\ngeorge: yeah, hell be looking at us like hes backstage at a puppet show. \n\njerry: let me just get my jacket. \n\ngeorge: (singing) master of the house/keeper of the inn... (jerry re-enters the living room and modestly models his new jacket for george. george is impressed.) this is huge! when did this happen? \n\njerry: wednesday. this jacket has completely changed my life. when i leave the house in this, its with a whole different confidence. like tonight, i mightve been a little nervous. but, inside this jacket, i am composed, grounded, secure that i can meet any social challenge. \n\ngeorge: can i say one thing to you? and i say this with an unblemished record of staunch heterosexuality. \n\njerry: absolutely. \n\ngeorge: its fabulous. \n\njerry: i know. \n\ngeorge: and ill tell you something else, im not even going to ask you. i want to know. but im not gonna ask. youll tell me when you feel comfortable. so what was it? four hundred? five hundred? did you pay five hundred for this? (jerry coyly ignores georges questions, while george grows increasingly serious.) over six? cant be seven. dont tell me you paid seven hundred dollars for this jacket! did you pay seven hundred dollars for this jacket? is that what youre saying to me? you are sick! is that what you paid for this jacket? over seven hundred? what did you pay for this jacket?! i wont say anything. i wanna know what you paid for this jacket! oh my god! a thousand dollars?! you paid a thousand dollars for this jacket?! all right, fine. (george heads for the door.) im walking outta here right now thinking you paid a thousand dollars for this jacket, unless you tell me different. (jerry remains silent.) oh, ho! all right! ill tell you what, if you dont say anything in the next five seconds, ill know it was over a thousand. \n\nkramer: (to jerry) hey. hey, would you do me a solid? \n\njerry: well, what kind of solid? \n\nkramer: i need you to sit in the car for two minutes while its double-parked. i gotta pick up some birds. \n\njerry: birds? \n\nkramer: yeah. a friend of mine, hes a magician. hes going away on vacation. he asked me to take care of his doves. \n\njerry: so take a cab. \n\nkramer: they wont take a cage full of birds. \n\njerry: i cant. im on my way out. theres no way i can do it. \n\nkramer: george, do me a solid? two minutes. \n\ngeorge: well, im going with him. id like to... ive never done a solid before. \n\nkramer: all right... yeah. all right, have a good one. \n\njerry: (scoffs) two minutes. believe me, i know his two minutes. by his conception of time, his life will last over two thousand years. \n\ngeorge: (singing) master of the house/quick to catch your eye/never wants a passerby to pass him by... \n\njerry: schumann. (george stops himself, frightened. jerry looks around the lobby.) where are they? \n\ngeorge: maybe he didnt show up. \n\njerry: what, you dont want to do this? \n\ngeorge: i dont think theres ever been an appointment in my life where i wanted the other guy to show up. (george notices an elderly man in a leather chair.) wait a second, is that him? \n\njerry: yeah, i think it is. (they walk toward the man. jerry hesitates.) wheres elaine? \n\ngeorge: im nervous. \n\njerry: (to the man) excuse me. mister benes? \n\nalton: yeah? \n\njerry: im jerry, elaines friend, and this is george. \n\ngeorge: its a great thrill to meet you, sir. \n\nalton: sit down. want a drink? \n\njerry: sure. \n\nalton: whatll you have? \n\njerry: (to waiter) ill have a cranberry juice with two limes. \n\ngeorge: and, ill have a club soda with no ice. \n\nbenes: ill have another scotch with plenty of ice. \n\ngeorge: you like ice? \n\nalton: huh? \n\ngeorge: i said, do you like ice? \n\nalton: like it? \n\ngeorge: dont you think you get more without it? \n\nalton: wheres elaine? \n\njerry: well, we thought she was meeting you earlier. shes usually pretty punctual. dont you find that, george? \n\ngeorge: yeah, yeah. shes punctual... and uh shes been late, sometimes. \n\njerry: yeah, yeah. sometimes shes on time, and... sometimes shes late. \n\ngeorge: i guess... (chuckles) today shes late. \n\njerry: it appears that way. \n\ngeorge: yup. \n\njerry: yup. \n\nalton: looks like rain. \n\ngeorge: i know, i know, thats what they said. \n\nalton: who said? \n\ngeorge: the weather guy, dr. waldo. \n\nalton: i dont need anybody to tell me its gonna rain. \n\ngeorge: no, of course not. i didnt- \n\nalton: all i have to do is stick my head out the window. (the waiter returns with the drinks, and distributes them to the men.) which ones suppose to be the funny guy? \n\ngeorge: (pointing at jerry) oh, hes the comedian. \n\njerry: im just a regular person. \n\ngeorge: no, no. hes just being modest. \n\nalton: we had a funny guy with us in korea. tailgunner. they blew his brains out all over the pacific. theres nothing funny about that. \n\njerry: would you excuse me a minute? im gonna go to the bathroom. ill be right back. \n\ngeorge: i just wanted to tell you that i really enjoyed fair game. i thought it was just brilliant. \n\nalton: drivel. \n\ngeorge: yea, well, maybe some parts. \n\nalton: (defensive) what parts? \n\ngeorge: the... drivel... parts. oh my gosh, i just realized i have to make a phone call. i-i cant believe- would you- \n\ngeorge: thank you for leaving me alone with him! \n\njerry: that was brutal. i cant go back out there. \n\ngeorge: well, lets just leave. \n\njerry: elainell kill me. \n\ngeorge: where is she? \n\njerry: shes gotta be here soon. \n\ngeorge: how could she leave us alone with this lunatic? ten more minutes, and thats it! im leaving. i have to tell you, this guy scares me. \n\njerry: the waiter was trembling! \n\ngeorge: if she doesnt show up, we cant possibly have dinner with him alone. \n\njerry: how are we gonna get out of it? \n\ngeorge: well say were frightened and we have to go home. \n\njerry: yeah, thats good. hed clunk our heads together like moe. \n\ngeorge: i dont know. just start scratching. tell him you have the crabs. he was in the military. hell understand that. \n\njerry: all fathers are intimidating. theyre intimidating because they are fathers. once a man has children, for the rest of his life, his attitude is, to hell with the world, i can make my own people. ill eat whatever i want, ill wear whatever i want, and ill create whoever i want. \n\nalton: (to george) whod you call? \n\ngeorge: (improvising) my uh uncle is having an operation. i just wanted to see how he was. \n\nalton: what kind of operation? \n\ngeorge: bone marrow. \n\nmanager: mister benes? \n\nalton: yes? \n\nmanager: a message for you. \n\nalton: from elaine. she got tied up. shell be here in thirty minutes. \n\nalton: yeah, they shouldve taken care of castro when they had the chance. like we did in guatamala in fifty-three. \n\njerry: well, guatamala... \n\ngeorge: sure, guatamala... \n\nalton: all right, you boys get yourselves together. well head up to the restaurant. ill leave a note for elaine. im going to the bathroom. \n\ngeorge: come on, lets go! \n\njerry: what about elaine? \n\ngeorge: to hell with elaine! \n\njerry: shell be furious. \n\ngeorge: were dying here! \n\njerry: thats her! shes here! \n\nelaine: im sorry. im so sorry. where is dad? \n\ngeorge: (contemptuously, imitating altons voice) hes in the bathroom. \n\njerry: (to elaine) where have you been?! \n\nelaine: kramer! that... kramer! im just about to leave, he calls me up. he begs me to sit in his car for two minutes, so he can pick up these birds... \n\njerry: oh, you didnt... \n\nelaine: well, he said hed drive me here right after. so, i am sitting in his car twenty minutes! he doesnt come down. i am freezing. then a cop comes by, tells me to get out of the car. hes a city marshal. hes towing the car away. kramer owes thousands of dollars in back tickets. he was going to tow it with me in the car! so, they tow the car. now, i am standing outside, and i am freezing, but i cannot leave because i have to tell him what happened to the car. so, finally, he finally comes down with his giant cage filled with doves. he said he was getting special instructions, that each dove has a different diet... so, were wandering around trying to get a cab, when two of these doves fly out! now were running down the street after these doves; i almost got hit by a bus! (elaine sits in altons chair and takes a deep breath.) so hows everything going over here? \n\njerry: great. \n\ngeorge: couldnt be better. \n\nelaine: good. cause dad can make some people a little uncomfortable. \n\njerry: oh, no, no. \n\ngeorge: get outta here.. \n\nelaine: man, kramer! i could kill him! \n\njerry: i cant believe it. you know better than to get involved with kramer. \n\nelaine : he said hed give me a lift. \n\njerry: ah, the lift. like the lure of the sirens song. never what it seems to be, yet who among us can resist? \n\ngeorge: where do you come up with this stuff? \n\nalton: well, look whos here. \n\nelaine: oh, hi, dad. \n\nalton: hello, dear. \n\nalton: whos the lipstick for? \n\nelaine: no one. \n\nalton: hows your mother? \n\nelaine: fine. \n\nalton: how about you? are you working? \n\nelaine: yeah, im reading manuscripts for pendant publishing. i told you ten times. \n\nalton: pendant! those bastards. well all right, boys. well go to that pakistani restaurant on 46th street. youre not afraid of a little spice, are you? \n\ngeorge: (singing) master of the house/doling out the charm/ready with a handshake and an open... \n\nalton: pipe down, chorus boy. \n\nelaine: ohh... its snowing. its beautiful. \n\njerry: (to george) snow. snow, that cant be good for suede, can it? \n\ngeorge: i wouldnt think so. \n\njerry: what should i do? (to alton) uh, were taking a cab, arent we? \n\nalton: cab? its only five blocks. \n\ngeorge: (to jerry) why dont you just turn it inside out? \n\njerry: inside out! great. \n\nalton: wait a minute. what the hell do you call this? \n\njerry: oh, i turned my jacket inside out. \n\nalton: well, you look like a damn fool! \n\njerry: well, its a new suede jacket. it might get ruined. \n\nalton: well, youre not going to walk down the street with me and my daughter dressed like that. thats for damn sure. \n\ngeorge: its uh, it's only a few blocks. \n\njerry: (to the intercom) elaine? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\njerry: come on up. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: ive gotta feed the birds. \n\njerry: so? \n\nkramer: you got any of those mini ritzes? \n\njerry: i cant believe i do. \n\nkramer: yeah! well, are you going out? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nkramer: hey, wheres your new jacket? (jerry points to the jacket hanging in the bathroom. its ruined.) what? (kramer enters the bathroom, and sees the garment.) ohhh. what did you do to it? \n\njerry: i was out in the snow last night. \n\nkramer: dont you know what that does to suede? \n\njerry: i have an idea. (elaine enters; to elaine) we can make the nine-thirty at cinema three. \n\nelaine: okay. (to kramer) hello. (to jerry) listen, thanks again for coming last night. dad said he had a great time. \n\njerry: is he still in town? \n\nelaine: no, hes driving back to maryland tonight. \n\nkramer: so, uh... what are you gonna do with that one now? \n\njerry: i dont know. \n\nkramer: (smiling) well... \n\nelaine: (to jerry) i didnt want to tell you this, but usually he hates everyone. \n\njerry: really? \n\nkramer: you gonna throw this out? \n\njerry: well, i cant wear it. \n\nelaine: yeah, he like you though. said you reminded him of somebody he knew in korea. \n\nkramer: (to jerry) well, if youre just gonna throw it out, you know, i could take it. \n\njerry: yeah, go ahead, take it. \n\nelaine: dad thinks george is gay. \n\njerry: oh, because of all the singing? \n\nelaine: no, he pretty much thinks everyone is gay. \n\nkramer: hey, see, i like it like this. \n\nelaine: isnt that...? (jerry nods.) oh, is this from the snow last night? (jerry nods.) ugh... you know what you shouldve done? you shouldve turned it inside out. \n\njerry: ill try and remember that. \n\nkramer: boy, its too bad you gave me this one too. \n\njerry: yeah, too bad. \n\nkramer: im gonna have to do something about this lining. \n\nalton: (singing) master of the house/doling out the charm/ready with a handshake and an open palm... \n\njerry: i had a leather jacket that got ruined. now, why does moisture ruin leather? i dont get this. arent cows outside most of the time? i dont understand it. when its raining do cows go up to the farmhouse, let us in, were all wearin leather. open the door! were gonna ruin the whole outfit here! is it suede? i am suede, the whole thing is suede, i cant have this cleaned. its all i got! \n\njerry: the bad thing about television is that everybody you see on television is doing something better than what youre doing. you ever see anybody on tv like just sliding off the front of the sofa with potato chip crumbs on their face? some people have a little too much fun on television. the soda commercial people. where do they summon this enthusiasm? have you seen them? we have soda, we have soda, we have soda, jumping, laughing, flying through the air. its a can of soda! have you ever been standing there and youre watching tv and youre drinking the exact same product that theyre advertising right there on tv, and its like, you know, theyre spiking volleyballs, jet-skiing, girls in bikinis and im standing there, maybe im putting too much ice in mine. \n\ngeorge: (excited) so then, as we were leaving, we were just kind of standing there, and she was sort of smiling at me, and i wasnt sure if she wanted me to ask her out, because when women smile at me i dont know what it means. sometimes i interpret it like theyre psychotic or something and i dont know if im supposed to smile back, i dont know what to do. so i just stood there like remember how quayle looked when benson gave him that kennedy line? thats what i looked like. \n\njerry: so you didnt ask? \n\ngeorge: no, i froze. \n\njerry: counter. \n\ngeorge: oh yeah. so wait, wait. a half-hour later im back in the office, i tell lloyd the whole story. he says, so why dont you call her? i says, i cant. i couldnt, i couldnt do it right then. for me to ask a woman out i gotta get into a mental state like the karate guys before they break the bricks. so lloyd calls me a wuss. \n\njerry: he said wuss? \n\ngeorge: yeah. anyway, he shamed me into it. \n\njerry: so you called. \n\ngeorge: right. and, and to cover my nervousness i started eating an apple, because i think if they hear you chewing on the other end of the phone, it makes you sound casual. \n\njerry: yeah. like a farm boy. \n\ngeorge: right. so i call her up, i tell her its me, she gives me an enthusiastic hi! \n\njerry: wow. the enthusiastic hi. thats beautiful. \n\ngeorge: oh, i dont get the enthusiastic hi, im outta there. \n\njerry: all right, so youre chewing your apple, you got your enthusiastic hi... go ahead. \n\ngeorge: so, were talking, and i dont like to go too long before i ask them out, i wanna get it over with right away, so i just blurt out, what are you doing saturday night? \n\njerry: and? \n\ngeorge: she bought. \n\njerry: great day in the morning. \n\ngeorge: then i got off the phone right away. \n\njerry: sure, its like robbing a bank. you dont loiter around in front of the teller holding that big bag of money. you come in, you hit and get out. \n\ngeorge: its amazing. we, we both have dates on the same night. i cant remember the last time that happened. \n\ngeorge: i cant stand doing laundry. thats why i have forty pairs of underwear. \n\ncarol: you do not. \n\ngeorge: absolutely. because instead of doing a wash, i just keep buying underwear. my goal is to have over three hundred and sixty pair. that way, i only have to do wash once a year. \n\njerry: (in an attempted scottish accent) come on, try it. let me hear you try a scottish accent. \n\ndonna: thats irish. \n\njerry: irish, scottish, whats the difference, lassie? \n\ncarol: so, uh, thanks for dinner. it was great. \n\ngeorge: yeah. (clears his throat) we should do this again. \n\ncarol: would you like to come upstairs for some coffee? \n\ngeorge: oh, no, thanks. i cant drink coffee late at night, it keeps me up. \n\ncarol: (confused by his response) so, um, okay. \n\ngeorge: okay. \n\ncarol: goodnight. \n\ngeorge: yeah, take it easy. \n\ndonna: thanks again for the movie. \n\njerry: youre welcome. \n\ndonna: id invite you up, but the place is being painted. \n\njerry: oh, thats okay. \n\ndonna: unless you want to go to your place. \n\njerry: okay... but theres no cake or anything, if thats what youre looking for. \n\ngeorge: (frustrated) take it easy! huh! take it easy! \n\njerry: i think if ones going to kill oneself, the least you could do is leave a note. its common courtesy. i dont know. thats just the way i was brought up. \n\ndonna: values are very important. \n\njerry: oh, so important. so what are you doing uh thursday night? you wanna have dinner? \n\ndonna: thursdays great. \n\njerry: tan pants. why do i buy tan pants, donna? i dont feel comfortable in them. \n\ndonna: are those cotton dockers? \n\njerry: oh, i cant begin to tell you how much i hate that commercial. \n\ndonna: really? i like that commercial. \n\njerry: you like that commercial? \n\ndonna: yeah, its clever. \n\njerry: now wait a second, you mean the one where the guys are all standing around, supposedly being very casual and witty? \n\ndonna: yeah, thats the one. \n\njerry: what could you possibly like about that? \n\ndonna: i dont know. i like the, guys. \n\njerry: yeah, theyre so funny and so comfortable with each other, and i could be comfortable too, if i had pants like that. i could sit on a porch and wrestle around, and maybe even be part of a real bull session. \n\ndonna : hey, i know guys like that. to me the dialogue rings true. \n\njerry: even if the dialogue did ring true. (donna starts to get annoyed that jerry won't let the conversation go) even if somehow somewhere men actually talk like that, what does that have to do with the pants? doesnt that bother you? \n\ndonna: (annoyed) thats the idea. thats whats clever about it, that theyre not talking about the pants. \n\njerry: but theyre talking about nothing. \n\ndonna: thats the point. \n\njerry: i know the point. \n\ndonna: no one is telling you to like it. \n\njerry: i mean, all those quick shots of the pants. just pants, pants, pants, pants, pants, pants, pants. what is that supposed to be? \n\njerry: whats brutal about the date is the scrutiny that you put each other through. because whenever you think about this person in terms of the future, you have to magnify everything about them. you know, like the guyll be like, i dont think her eyebrows are even. could i look at uneven eyebrows for the rest of my life? and of course the womans looking at the guy, thinking, what is he looking at? do i want somebody looking at me like this for the rest of my life? \n\njerry: im supposed to see her again on thursday, but can i go out with someone who actually likes this commercial? \n\nelaine: i once broke up with a guy because he didnt keep his bathroom clean enough. \n\njerry: no kidding. did you tell him that was the reason? \n\nelaine: oh yeah, i told him all the time. you would not have believed his tub. germs were building a town in there they were constructing offices. houses near the drain were going for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. \n\nelaine: hi. \n\njerry: youre still thinking about this? \n\ngeorge: she invites me up at twelve oclock at night, for coffee, and i dont go up. no thank you. i dont want coffee. it keeps me up. too late for me to drink coffee. i said this to her. people this stupid shouldnt be allowed to live. i cant imagine what she must think of me. \n\njerry: she thinks youre a guy that doesnt like coffee. \n\ngeorge: she invited me up. coffees not coffee, coffee is sex. \n\nelaine: maybe coffee was coffee. \n\ngeorge: coffees coffee in the morning. its not coffee at twelve oclock at night. \n\nelaine: well some people drink coffee that late. \n\ngeorge: yeah, people who work at norad, whore on twenty-four hour missile watch. everything was going along so great. she was laughing, i was funny... i kept saying to myself, keep it up, dont blow it, youre doing great. \n\nelaine: its all in your head. all she knows is she had a good time. i think you should call her. \n\ngeorge: i cant call her now. its too soon. im planning a wednesday call. \n\nelaine: oh, why? i love it when guys call me the next day. \n\ngeorge: of course you do, but youre imagining a guy you like, not a guy who goes, oh no, i dont drink coffee late at night. if i call her now, shes gonna think im too needy. women dont wanna see need. they want a take-charge guy a colonel, a kaiser, a tsar. \n\nelaine: all shell think is that you like her. \n\ngeorge: that's exactly what i'm trying to avoid! \n\nelaine: well, she wants you to like her. \n\ngeorge: yes, she wants me to like her, if she likes me. but she doesnt like me! \n\nelaine: i dont know what your parents did to you. \n\nkramer: hey, i just thought of a really funny thing for your act. all right, youre up there, youre on the stage and you go, hey, you ever notice how cars here in new york, they never get out of the way of ambulances anymore. someones in a life-and-death situation, and were thinking, well, sorry buddy, you shouldve thought of that when you were eating cheese omelettes and sauages for breakfast every morning for the last thirty years. \n\nkramer: so you gonna use it? \n\njerry : i dont think so. \n\nkramer: its funny. \n\nelaine: it is funny. \n\njerry: i like to use my own material. \n\nkramer: thats as good as anything you do. \n\ngeorge: all right, i gotta make a call. everybody out, come on. \n\njerry: why do we have to leave? \n\ngeorge: because i cant call a woman with other people in the room. come on, lets go. \n\nelaine: oh, see, this is the problem. \n\njerry: youre kicking me out of my house? \n\ngeorge: yes. \n\nelaine: (encouraging) dont forget. \n\ngeorge: (to elaine) right, alright. (to jerry) oh jerry, do you have any apples? \n\njerry: dont do the apples. its enough already with the apples. \n\ncarol: (from the phone; a recorded message) hi, its carol, ill get back to you. \n\ngeorge: um, hi, its george, george costanza, remember me? the guy that didnt come up for coffee. you see, i didnt realise that coffee didnt really mean... well, whatever. anyway, it was fun. it was... it was fun, so... oh boy, um, so... you call me back. if you want. its up to you, you know, whatever you wanna do. either way. the balls in your court. so uh, take it easy. \n\njerry: im just gonna get my jacket, ill meet you downstairs. whats the matter, did you call? \n\ngeorge: got her machine. im dead, im a dead man. thats it. im dead, im a dead man. dead man. \n\njerry: what did you say? \n\ngeorge: i dont know what the hell i said. i gave her an ultimatum and theres nothing i can do. its a machine. the little light is blinking right now, come and listen to the idiot. hey everybody, the idiots on! \n\njerry: after one date you try and improvise on her machine? \n\ngeorge: now im in the worst position of all. \n\nelaine: yknow, my brother-in-law once left a message on this guys machine, and he blurted out some business information he wasnt supposed to, and it would have cost him fifteen thousand dollars, so he waited outside the guys house and when the guy came home he went upstairs with him and he switched the tape. \n\ngeorge: he did that? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\ngeorge: somebody did that? \n\njerry: shell call you back. youre overreacting. \n\njerry: not once. \n\ndonna: never? \n\njerry: i have never seen one episode of i love lucy in my life, ever. \n\ndonna: thats amazing. \n\njerry: thank you. \n\ndonna: is there anything else about you i should know? \n\njerry: yes, im lactose intolerant. \n\ndonna: really? \n\njerry: i have no patience for lactose. and i wont stand for it. um, ill be right back. \n\ngeorge: wait till you hear this! (george sees donna and no jerry.) whoa, ah, im sorry, i didnt, i had no idea. \n\ndonna: wait, wait. hes in the bathroom. \n\ngeorge: i just wanted to talk to him for a minute, but ill come back. \n\ndonna: you dont have to leave. \n\ngeorge: you sure? \n\ndonna: yes. \n\ngeorge: okay. \n\ndonna: im donna. \n\ngeorge: donna. oh, youre the one that likes that commercial! \n\ndonna: he told you about that? \n\ngeorge: (back-pedalling) no, he, he didnt actually tell me that, uh, we were talking about that commercial in fact i think i brought it up because i like that commercial. no, he, he would never tell me anything. he never discusses anything. hes, hes like a clam. youre not gonna mention this, to him... \n\ndonna: (to jerry) so you go around telling your friends im not hip because i like that commercial. \n\njerry: what? (to george) what did, what did you say? \n\ngeorge: say? what? nothing, i... \n\ndonna: you told him how i like the commercial. \n\njerry: well, so what if i said that? \n\ndonna: well, so, you didnt have to tell your friends. \n\njerry: no, i had to tell my friends my friends didnt have to tell you. \n\ngeorge: (to donna) why did you have to get me in trouble? \n\ndonna: i dont like you talking about me with your friends behind my back. \n\ngeorge: boy oh boy. \n\njerry: i said i couldnt believe you liked that commercial. so what? \n\ndonna: i asked some friends of mine this week, and all of them liked the commercial. \n\njerry: boy, i bet you got a regular algonquin round table there. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: oh uh, kramer, this is donna. \n\nkramer: oh. cotton dockers! \n\ngeorge: hello! all right, we should be going. come on... \n\nkramer: what? where are we going? \n\ngeorge: come on! \n\ndonna: dont bother, im leaving. \n\njerry: donna, really, youre making too much of this. \n\nkramer: one hundred percent cotton dockers. if theyre not dockers, theyre just pants \n\njerry: please, donna... \n\ndonna: i dont wanna hear it. \n\ngeorge: i cant believe i said that. you know me, im a vault. \n\njerry: dont worry about it, it wasnt working anyway. \n\nkramer: what happened there? \n\njerry: ill tell you later. \n\ngeorge: you are not gonna believe whats going on with this woman. \n\ngeorge: okay, so you remember i made the initial call sunday, she doesnt call back. i call again monday, i leave another message. i call tuesday, i get the machine again, i know youre there, i dont know what your story is. yesterday, im a volcano i try one more call, the machine comes on, and i let fly like mussolini from the balcony, where the hell do you get the nerve? you invite me up for coffee and then you dont call me back for four days? i dont like coffee, i dont have to come up. id like to get one more shot at the coffee just so i could spit it in your face. \n\njerry: you said that? \n\ngeorge: i lost it. \n\njerry: i cant blame you. i cant believe she never called you back. \n\ngeorge: she did. today. \n\njerry: what? \n\ngeorge: she called my office. she said shes been in the hamptons since sunday. she didnt know if i was trying to get in touch with her. her machine broke, and shes been using her old machine and she doesnt have the beeper for it. \n\njerry: so she didnt get the messages. \n\ngeorge: exactly, but theyre on there waiting. she said she cant wait to see me, were having dinner tonight. shes supposed to call me as soon as she gets home. \n\njerry: but what about the messages? \n\njerry: elaines thing? how you gonna get in? \n\ngeorge: ill meet her outside the building. \n\njerry: but you know as soon as she gets in the apartment shes going right for that machine. \n\ngeorge: unless she goes for the bathroom. thats my only chance. (george crumbles. he drops the cassette on the table.) who am i kidding? i cant do this, i cant do this. i dont even know how to work those stupid machines. \n\njerry: theres nothing to it. you lift the lid, it comes right out. \n\ngeorge: you do it for me. \n\njerry: what? \n\ngeorge: come on, itll be so much easier. \n\njerry: how you gonna get me up there? \n\ngeorge: ill tell her i bumped into you, im giving you a ride uptown. \n\njerry: and who makes the switch? \n\ngeorge: you do. \n\njerry: i do. \n\ngeorge : i cant do it. ill, ill keep her busy. \n\njerry: i cant get involved in this. \n\ngeorge: i think i may be in love with this woman. \n\njerry: what if she sees me? \n\ngeorge: oh, you are such a wuss. \n\njerry: a wuss? \n\ngeorge: yeah. \n\njerry: did you call me a wuss? \n\ngeorge: well there is traffic. it might take her till eight-fifteen. \n\njerry: i got one problem. youre keeping her busy in the other room. now, what if she somehow gets away from you and is coming in? you have to signal me that shes coming. \n\ngeorge: a signal, right, um, okay, uh, okay, the signal is, ill call out tippy-toe! \n\njerry: tippy toe? i dont think so. \n\ngeorge: you dont like tippy toe? \n\njerry: no tippy toe. \n\ngeorge: all right, uh, okay, i got it, um, ill sing. \n\njerry: what song? \n\ngeorge: how do you solve a problem like maria? \n\njerry: what is that? \n\ngeorge: oh, its a lovely song. (singing) how do you solve a problem like maria?... \n\njerry: anything else? \n\ngeorge: you pick it. \n\njerry: lemon tree. \n\ngeorge: peter, paul and mary. \n\njerry: no, trini lopez. \n\njerry & george: (singing) lemon tree, very pretty and a lemon flower... \n\ngeorge: alright ok. you got the tape? \n\njerry: standard. micro. \n\ngeorge: how do you feel? confident? \n\njerry: feel good. \n\ngeorge: you nervous? \n\njerry: not at all. \n\ngeorge: get up, get up, its her! oh, the hell with this, im scared to death, just walk away, its off, cancel everything, go! \n\ncarol: hey! what are you doing here? i thought i was supposed to call you when i got home. \n\ngeorge: i, i couldnt wait. i was too anxious to see you. \n\ncarol: oh, thats so sweet. \n\ngeorge: oh, this is my friend, jerry seinfeld. i just bumped into him around the corner. isnt that a coincidence? the funny thing is, i see him all the time. \n\njerry: all the time. \n\ncarol: its nice to meet you. \n\njerry: hi. \n\ncarol: so, im starving. where are we gonna eat? \n\ngeorge: you know, we could go uptown, and that way we could give jerry a ride home. \n\ncarol: okay. lets go, im ready, whered you park? \n\ngeorge: dont you wanna go upstairs first? \n\ncarol: no, what for? ill just give my bag to the doorman. \n\njerry: you know, i really need to use the bathroom. \n\ncarol: oh well theres a bathroom in the coffee shop just next door. \n\ngeorge: yes, yes, but uh, i have to make a call, so... \n\ncarol: well they have a phone. \n\ngeorge: i know jerry. he has this phobia about public toilets. i think we really should go upstairs. \n\ncarol: (aloud) you know, i think i will go upstairs. i can check my machine. \n\ngeorge: right, right. \n\ncarol: the bathrooms on the hall to the right. \n\njerry: uh, you know, why dont you go first, you just had a long trip. \n\ncarol: no, im fine. \n\njerry: um, you know, its the damnedest thing. it went away. \n\ncarol: oh, thats weird. \n\ngeorge: no, no that can happen. ive, uh, ive read about that in medical journals. its a freak thing, but... \n\ncarol: well, let me just check my messages, and well go. \n\ngeorge: uh, carol, can i talk to you for a second? right now? \n\ncarol: sure. \n\ngeorge: please, this is very, very important. \n\ngeorge: (from other room) uh, tippy toe! tippy toe! lemon tree! \n\ncarol: (to jerry) now i know who you are! youre a comedian. ive seen you, its driving me crazy. \n\njerry: right. i am. \n\ngeorge: carol, thats so rude. please, im serious, just for a moment, if you wouldnt mind. and then well talk to jerry. \n\njerry: (calls) hey you two. im ready to go. \n\ncarol: thats what you had to tell me? your father wears sneakers in the pool? \n\ngeorge: (to jerry) dont you find that strange? \n\njerry: yes. \n\ncarol: well, ill just check my machine and well go. \n\ncarol: no, nothing here, lets go. (carol, george and jerry head for the door. carol opens it.) oh, i forgot to tell you. after i talked to you today my neighbour called me and played my messages to me over the phone. \n\ngeorge: oh, uh... \n\ncarol: yours were hilarious, we were both cracking up. i just love jokes like that. \n\njerry: i love my phone machine. i wish i was a phone machine. i wish if i saw somebody on the street i didnt want to talk to, i could go, excuse me, im not in right now. if you would just leave a message, i could walk away. i also have a cordless phone, but i dont like that as much, because you cant slam down a cordless phone. you get mad at somebody on a real phone you cant talk to me like that! bang! you know. you get mad at somebody on a cordless phone you cant talk to me like that! \n\njerry: well, i painted my apartment again. ive been living in this apartment for years and years, and every time i paint it, it kinda gets me down. i look around, and i think, well, its a little bit smaller now. you know, i realize its just the thickness of the paint, but im aware of it. it just coming in and coming in. every-time i paint it, its closer and closer. i dont even know where the wall outlets are anymore. i just look for like a lump with two slots in it. kinda looks like a pig is trying to push his way through from the other side. thats where i plug in. my idea of the perfect living room would be the bridge on the starship enterprise. you know what i mean? big chair, nice screen, remote control... thats why star trek really was the ultimate male fantasy. just hurtling through space in your living room, watching tv. thats why all the aliens were always dropping in, because kirk was the only one that had the big screen. they came over friday nights, klingon boxing, gotta be there. \n\njerry: what did you do? \n\nkramer: mousse. i moussed up. \n\nelaine: i guess it was just a matter of time. \n\nkramer: you know, i should've done this years ago. i mean, i feel like i've had two lives. my pre-mousse. and now, i begin my post-mousse. hey, tell me the truth, have you ever seen a better looking guy? \n\njerry: well, looks are so subjective. \n\nelaine: i dont mean to interrupt or anything, but on sunday, my friend is having a brunch for the new york marathon. \n\nkramer: (annoyed that he forgot) oh, i keep forgetting to enter that! \n\nelaine: she lives right above first avenue, says she has a perfect view of the race. and she said i can invite some friends. \n\njerry: maybe. \n\nharold: (o.s.) no, im not going up there. \n\njerry: (to elaine) harold and manny. \n\nharold: im not going. \n\njerry: boys, boys. \n\nharold: oh, jerry. \n\njerry: i slid the rent under your door, harold. did you get it? \n\nharold: yeah, yeah... hey, jerry, would you like anything from mrs. hudwalkers apartment? \n\nmanny: (in spanish) you can't give him anything from there! \n\nharold: i was only joking. (to jerry) he thinks im gonna give you mrs. hudwalkers things. \n\nmanny: (in spanish) you offered them to him. \n\nharold: (to jerry) we have to go up there now and clean the apartment. its a good thing her rent was overdue. shed be rotting up there for a month. \n\njerry: she died? mrs. hudwalker died? \n\nharold: ninety-four years old. i found her yesterday. she didnt have her wig on. it was horrifying. \n\nmanny: (in spanish) harold, come on, hurry up! \n\nharold: (to manny) whats the matter with you? im talking! so, jerry, you know anyone who needs an apartment? \n\njerry: are you kidding? you know my friend elaine? \n\nharold: oh yeah, i like her. she always says hello to me. \n\njerry: its not promised to anybody? cause shed take it in a second. \n\nharold: well, manny wanted it for his brother, but he got deported. \n\nmanny: (in spanish) what do you mean deported? it was a misunderstanding with the department of immigration. \n\nharold: whats the difference? its true! \n\njerry: so, its okay? i could just tell her she can have it? \n\nharold: sure, sure. shes getting a bargain, too. its only four hundred dollars a month. \n\nmanny: (in spanish) four hundred dollars? what are you nuts? someone will pay more. \n\nharold: okay... \n\nharold: okay! \n\nkramer: hey, harold, what do you think? \n\nharold: manny, look. kramer put mousse in his hair. \n\nmanny: (in spanish) it looks worse. \n\nkramer: (not understanding him) hey, thanks. \n\nelaine: what was that all about? \n\njerry: (coyly) oh, nothing important. \n\nelaine: whats going on? what is that look? \n\njerry: what look? nothing. \n\nelaine: somethings going on here. \n\njerry: i dont know if you should sit for this or not. sitting is good if you faint, but standing is good for jumping up and down. i cant decide. \n\nelaine: jumping up and down? what are you talking about? cmon. cough it up. \n\njerry: oh, elaine. you know the way i am rarely ever thinking of myself. my only concern is the welfare and happiness of those close to me. sure, it hurts sometimes to give, and give, and give... \n\nelaine: would you please? \n\njerry: what would you say if i told you that... \n\nelaine: told me what?! \n\njerry: ...i got you an apartment in this building. \n\nelaine: (dumbfounded) no. \n\njerry: yes. \n\nelaine: no. \n\njerry: yes. \n\nelaine: you didnt. \n\njerry: i did. \n\nelaine: you got me an apartment in the building?! \n\njerry: i got you an apartment in the building. \n\nelaine: how did you... \n\njerry: remember mrs. hudwalker? the ninety-four-year-old woman who lived above me? \n\nelaine: no. \n\njerry: she died. \n\nelaine: (thrilled) she died?! \n\njerry: she died. \n\nelaine: she died! \n\njerry: and the rent is only four hundred dollars a month! \n\nelaine: get out! \n\nelaine: four hundred a month? only four hundred a month?! \n\njerry: four hundred a month. \n\nelaine: and ill be right upstairs? \n\njerry: right upstairs. \n\nelaine: right above you? \n\njerry: right above me. \n\nelaine: oh, were neighbors. ill be here all the time! \n\njerry: all the time. \n\nelaine: (overly excited) we can exchange keys so we can come in and out. oh, this is going to be great! \n\njerry: all the time. \n\njerry: the problem with talking is that nobody stops you from saying the wrong thing. i think life would be a lot better if it was like youre always making a movie. you mess up, somebody just walks on the set, and stops the whole shot. you know what i mean? think of the things you wish you could take back. youre out somewhere with people, gee, you look pregnant.. are you? cut, cut, cut, cut, cut, thats not gonna work at all. walk out the door, and come back in. lets take this whole scene again. people, think about what youre saying! \n\ngeorge: thanks, see you later, donna. \n\ngeorge: what happened to you? \n\njerry: you cant believe what i just did. \n\ngeorge: what? what did you do? \n\njerry: i could tell you what i did, but you wouldnt believe it. its not believable. \n\ngeorge: what did you do? \n\njerry: how could i have done that? \n\ngeorge: done what? \n\njerry: i told elaine about an apartment opening up in my building. shes going to move in. \n\ngeorge: elaines moving into your building? \n\njerry: yes. right above me. \n\ngeorge: right above you? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: youre gonna be neighbors. \n\njerry: i know. neighbors. \n\ngeorge: shes right above you? \n\njerry: right above me. \n\ngeorge: how could you do that? \n\njerry: cause im an idiot! you may think youre an idiot, but with all due respect, im a much bigger idiot than you are. \n\ngeorge: dont insult me, my friend. remember who youre talking to. no ones a bigger idiot than me. \n\njerry: did you ever ask an ex-girlfriend to move into your building? \n\ngeorge: did you ever go to a singles weekend in the poconos? \n\njerry: shes right in my building! right above me! every time i come in the building, im gonna have to sneak around like a cat burglar. \n\ngeorge: youre doomed. youre gonna have to have all your sex at womens apartments. itll be like a permanent road trip. forget about the home bed advantage. \n\njerry: but i need the home bed advantage. \n\ngeorge: of course. we all do. \n\njerry: come in for two minutes and sit with me. \n\ngeorge: i was just in there. its embarrassing. \n\njerry: oh, whos gonna know? \n\ngeorge: they saw me walk out. \n\njerry: two minutes. \n\njerry: my censoring system broke down. you know that little guy in your head who watches everything you say? makes sure you dont make a mistake? he went for a cup of coffee. and in that second ruined my life. \n\ngeorge: my censor quit two years ago. he checked into a clinic. emotionally exhausted. \n\njerry: so, is there any way out of this elaine thing? \n\ngeorge: tough. \n\njerry: you know, the water pressures terrible in my building. and she loves a good shower. \n\ngeorge: i never heard of anyone would turned down an apartment because of a weak shower spray. \n\njerry: if they were fanatic about showers, they might. \n\ngeorge: for that rent, shed take a bath in the toilet tank if she had to. \n\njerry: look at that woman feeding her baby greasy, disgusting, coffee shop corned beef hash. isnt that child abuse? \n\ngeorge: id like to have a kid. of course, you have to have a date first... remember my friend, adam, from detroit? \n\njerry: yeah, the guy with the flat head. \n\ngeorge: hes a cube. anyway, he got married six months ago. he told me ever since hes been wearing a wedding band, women have been coming on to him everywhere he goes. \n\njerry: yeah, ive heard that about wedding bands. \n\ngeorge: i wonder if thats really true. \n\njerry: that would be an interesting sociological experiment. you know, kramer has his fathers band. hed loan it to you. \n\ngeorge: thanks a lot. ill give it back to you in a week. \n\nkramer: you know, i dont even know why youre fooling around with this ring. ive been telling you, get yourself some plugs. or a piece. \n\ngeorge: im not doing that. \n\nkramer: oh, man. you know, youre crazy. youre a good looking guy. what do you want to walk around like that for? \n\ngeorge: no, ill put half a can of mousse in my head like you. \n\nharold: i told you i dont like these sponges, theyre too small! i want a big sponge! \n\nharold: you cant pick up anything with these! theres no absorption! \n\njerry: boys, boys. \n\nharold: hi, jerry. \n\nmanny: hello, jerry. (in spanish to harold) you tell him. \n\nharold: okay \n\nmanny: (in spanish to harold again) you tell him. \n\nharold: your friend cant have the apartment, jerry. \n\njerry: what? \n\nharold: because somebody offered manny five thousand dollars for the apartment. i dont want to do it. manny wants to do it. \n\nmanny: (in spanish) why are you telling him it's my fault? \n\nharold: because its true! why shouldnt i tell him? \n\njerry: hey, hey. i understand. youre businessmen. \n\nmanny: (in spanish) tell him that if his friend can come up with the same money then she can have the apartment. \n\nharold: oh, now, he says that if your friend has five thousand dollars, well give it to her. \n\njerry: well, thats a lot of money. but, if thats the way its gotta be, thats the way its gotta be. \n\njerry: you know, i used to think that the universe is a random, chaotic sequence of meaningless events, but i see now that there is reason and purpose to all things. \n\ngeorge: what happened to you? \n\njerry: religion, my friend, thats what happened to me. because, i have just been informed that its going to cost elaine the sum of five thousand dollars to get the apartment upstairs. \n\ngeorge: (jubilant) five thousand dollars? she doesnt have five thousand dollars! \n\njerry: of course she doesnt have five thousand dollars! \n\ngeorge: so, she cant get the apartment. \n\njerry: cant get it. \n\ngeorge: so, she doesnt move in. \n\njerry: no move. so, you see, its all part of a divine plan. \n\ngeorge: and how does the baldness fit into that plan? \n\njerry: (to the intercom) elaine? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\njerry: (to george) all right, this is going to require some great acting now. i have to pretend im disappointed. youre going to really see me being a phony, now. i hope you can take this. maybe you should go in the other room. \n\ngeorge: are you kidding? i lie every second of the day. my whole life is a sham! \n\njerry: cause you know, i love elaine. \n\ngeorge: of course you do. \n\njerry: but you know... not in the building. really, i feel terrible about this. my intentions were good. what can i do? tell me. \n\nelaine: (to someone in the hallway) no, ill be seeing you. (she enters the apartment; singing) \"good morning, good morning.. (to jerry and george) have you ever gotten up in the morning and felt its great to be alive? that every breath is a gift of sweet life from above? \n\nelaine: oh, and before i forget, i have the checks for the first month, last months security deposit. (laughs) i have seventy-five dollars left in my account. \n\njerry: well... theres a little bit of a problem. \n\nelaine: oh, i know. theres a weak shower spray, i know. ive already thought about it, and im switching to baths. as winston churchill said, why stand when you can sit? maybe ill get some rubber duckies. \n\njerry: uh, no uh, someone offered harold and manny five thousand for the apartment. im sure theyd just as soon give it to you, but youd have to come up with that money. \n\nelaine: five thousand dollars? i dont have five thousand dollars. \n\njerry: i know. \n\nelaine: (disappointed) how am i going to get five thousand dollars? \n\njerry: i have no idea. \n\nkramer: (to elaine) hey, my new neighbor! \n\nelaine: im not moving in. \n\nkramer: what? \n\nelaine: they want five thousand dollars now. \n\nkramer: so, okay uh whats the problem? \n\nelaine: i dont have five thousand dollars. \n\nkramer: cmon, you can come up with five thousand dollars. (to jerry) jerry, you dont have five thousand dollars you can led her? come on. \n\njerry: yeah, well, i didnt- is that something you want to borrow? \n\nelaine: no, thats too much money to borrow. \n\nkramer: loan her the money. you can afford it. \n\njerry: she doesnt wanna borrow the money. \n\nkramer: oh, cmon. shell pay you back. whats five grand between friends? \n\nelaine: of course id pay you back.. \n\nkramer: yeah, so whats the problem? \n\njerry: who said theres a problem? \n\nkramer: hey see he said hed loan you the money. \n\nelaine: well jerry, it might take a while for me to pay you back. maybe a few years. how do you feel about that? \n\nkramer: thats okay. he doesnt care. \n\nelaine: well, you know, money can sometimes come between friends. \n\nkramer: get outta here. \n\nelaine: let me think about it. \n\nkramer: whats to think about? \n\nelaine: i dont know... i dont know. five thousand... let me just take one more look at it. \n\njerry: (to kramer) it was all over! taken care of. done! finished. five thousand. wheres she gonna get five thousand? she doesnt have five thousand. clean. good bye. shes gone. then you come in, why dont you loan her five thousand? what do you care? youve got five thousand. give her five thousand! \n\nkramer: you didnt want her in the building? \n\njerry: no, i didnt! \n\nkramer: well, then what did you loan her the five thousand for? oh, look, maybe she wont take it. i mean, she did say that she was gonna think about it. \n\njerry: people dont turn down money. its what separates us from the animals. \n\nkramer: i still dont understand what the problem is having her in the building. \n\njerry: let me explain something to you. you see, youre not normal. youre a great guy, i love you, but youre a pod. i, on the other hand, am a human being. i sometimes feel awkward, uncomfortable, even inhibited in certain situations with the other human beings. you wouldnt understand. \n\nkramer: because im a pod? \n\nelaine: ill take it! \n\nroxanne: hi, elaine. \n\nelaine: oh, hi, roxanne. nice to be here. these are my friends. this is george, and this is jerry. \n\njerry: hi \n\nelaine: jerrys the one who got me my new apartment. \n\nroxanne: so, youre elaines hero. \n\njerry: yes, its my lifes work. \n\nroxanne: there are so few true heroes left in this world. \n\ngeorge: yeah, my wife couldnt make it today. shes got something with her mother... who knows whats going on with her. dont let any one kid you, its tough. \n\njerry: well, better load up on some carbos before the race. \n\nroxanne: oh, the marathon is great, isnt it? \n\njerry: oh, yes. particularly if youre not in it. \n\nroxanne: i wish we had a view of the finish line. \n\njerry: whats to see? a woman from norway, a guy from kenya, and twenty thousand losers. \n\ngeorge: ...yeah, my wife started getting on me about the lawn today. im tellin you, its one thing after another. \n\nrita: is she here? \n\ngeorge: uh no no, shes working. \n\nrita: what does she do? \n\ngeorge: shes an... etymologist. you know, bees, flies, gnats. w-what about you? \n\nrita: i work for the director of madison square garden. its great! i can get free tickets to any sporting in new york. anyway, shes a very luck woman. enjoy the race. \n\ngeorge: (calling after her) but.. \n\nroxanne: hi stan. joanne. \n\nelaine: jerry, this is joanne, and this is stan. theyre in my short story class with roxanne and me. \n\njerry: hi how are ya? \n\nelaine: hey, jerry just got me a great apartment in his building! \n\njoanne: well, jerry, itll be nice having a close friend nearby. \n\njerry: (no amused) fantastic. \n\nstan: she can pop in whenever she wants. \n\njerry: i know. \n\njoanne: she doesnt even need to knock! \n\njerry: its tremendous. \n\nstan: anytime of day. \n\njerry: im in heaven. \n\nelaine: oh, rita come here. this is jerry. hes the one who got me the apartment. \n\nrita: oh, hi. (calling to someone) bob, this is the guy who got elaine the apartment. \n\ngeorge: im sorry, i dont see the big deal about being a matador. the bull charges, you move the cape, whats so hard? \n\nsusie: so uh, are you really married? because, ive actually heard of single guys who wear wedding bands to attract women. \n\ngeorge: (laughs) youd have to be a real loser to try something like that. \n\nsusie: thats too bad, because i really have a thing for bald guys with glasses. \n\nrita: hey everybody! here come the runners! \n\nelaine: (to jerry) so you and roxanne are hitting it off, huh? \n\njerry: oh, i wouldnt quite say that. \n\nelaine: really? from a distance, you seemed to be coming on to her. \n\njerry: im a guy it always looks like that. \n\nelaine: because, i was thinking... are you at all concerned that living in the same building will, yknow... cramp our styles? \n\njerry: nah... \n\nelaine: because, i was worried that there might be a situation in which one of us come home with somebody, it could get a little uncomfortable. but, as long as youre okay with it, its fine with me. \n\njanice: ive never been able to be with just one person. i can, however, carry on strictly physical relationships which can last for years and years. its a shame youre married. \n\ngeorge: umm, im not. its just a sociological experiment! \n\njanice: please... \n\njerry: you have no idea what an idiot is. elaine just gave me a chance to get out and i didnt take it. (pointing to himself) this is an idiot. \n\ngeorge: is that right? i just threw away a lifetime of guilt-free sex, and floor seats for ever sporting event in madison square garden. so please, a little respect. for i am costanza lord of the idiots! \n\nroxanne: (yelling out the window) youre all winners! \n\ngeorge: but suddenly, a new contender has emerged... \n\njerry: george, i didnt sleep at all last night. i decided i have to tell her. im just going to be honest. thats all... yes, im nervous... are you listening to me?... just put some soap on your finger. itll slide right off... then try axle grease... (kramer enters; to the phone) ill call you back after i talk to her... bye. \n\nkramer: well, its all taken care of. everythings cool. \n\njerry: what? whats cool? \n\nkramer: elaine. \n\njerry: what are you talking about? \n\nkramer: i just found a guy whos willing to pay ten thousand dollars for the apartment. \n\njerry: you what?! get out! (pushes kramer) ten thousand? \n\nkramer: cash. \n\njerry: who would pay that much? \n\nkramer: hes in the music business. \n\njerry: elaine would never borrow that much money! (jerry hugs kramer, then grabs him by the cheeks.) kramer, my god, man! this is beautiful! i think im in the clear here. elaines not moving in. i dont have to confront her. she has no idea i never wanted her to move in. im golden! \n\nkramer: well, occasionally i like to help the humans. \n\nelaine: wow. youre right. that is loud. \n\njerry: its just unbelievable. \n\nelaine: they rehearse all the time? \n\njerry: all the time. ive been up there six times. they refuse to stop. i cant live like this. i dont know what im gonna do. im heading for breakdown! (to harold) cant you do something? \n\nharold: im not going up. it stinks up there. \n\njerry: manny... \n\nmanny: (in spanish) theyre allowed to play until eleven oclock! \n\nharold: im not the one who said eleven oclock. he makes up his own rules. \n\nelaine: boy, too bad. if i was up there, youd never hear a peep out of me. im as quiet as a mouse. \n\nkramer: oh, i love the one they do right after this one! (starts dancing) \n\njerry: i dont know. what do you do when a neighbor is making, like, a lot of noise at three oclock in the morning? i mean, can you knock on someones door and tell them to keep it down? youre really altering your whole self-image. i mean, what am i, fred mertz now? whats happening to me? can i do this? am i a shusher? i used to be a shushee. theres a lot of shushing going on in movie theaters. people are always shushing. shh... shh... shhh... shhh... doesnt work, cause nobody knows where a shush is coming from. they just hear a shh. was that a shush? i think somebody just shushed me. some people you cant shush in a movie theater. theres always that certain group of people, isnt it? theyre talking and talking, and everyone around them is shushing them, and shushing them. they wont shush. theyre the unshushables. \n\njerry: i have to tell you that i did some very exciting news recently, and i dont know if i should really tell you exactly what it is because its really not a definite thing yet. (crowd cheers him on to tell them) well, i will tell you what i know so far. according to the information that i have in the envelope that ive received, it seems that i may have already won some very valuable prizes. (audience applauds) well, thank you, thank you very much, well thank you. that's very nice to hear that. but, in all honesty, i have to say, i didnt even know i was in this thing. but, according to the readout, it looks like i am among the top people that they are considering. you know, thats what annoys me about the sweepstakes companies, they always tease you with that, you may have already won. id like once for a sweepstakes company to have some guts, come out with the truth, just tell people the truth one time. send out envelopes, you have definitely lost! you turn it over, giant printing, not even close! you open it up, theres this whole letter of explanation, even we cannot believe how badly you have done in this contest. \n\njerry: (to kramer) to the right. \n\ngeorge: that took awhile. \n\njerry: dont get up. \n\ngeorge: id like to help, but my neck.. \n\ngeorge: so how long has it been in the basement? \n\njerry: since my grandfather died. i was suppose to send it down to my parents in florida, but they didnt want it. they told me to get rid of it, but i felt funny and then i sort of forgot about it. and its been sitting down there for three years until he saw it. (to kramer) all right, so, just take what you want and lets get it out of here. \n\ngeorge: whats in it? \n\njerry: grandpa clothes, i cant wear em. \n\nkramer: you want these? knee socks. you dont wear knee socks. \n\njerry: no, go ahead. look at this place. i cant wait to get it cleaned. \n\ngeorge: i know someone wholl do it. shes good. shes honest. \n\njerry: no, elaines got this writer friend from finland, rava. her boyfriend goes to columbia grad school, and hes suppose to do it. \n\ngeorge: students cant clean. its anathema. (explaining) they dont like it. \n\njerry: how long have you been waiting to squeeze that into a conversation? \n\nkramer: now this i like. \n\ngeorge: wait a second. (george gets up and heads for the statue in kramers hands.) i cant believe this! let me see this. \n\nkramer: wait, wait, wait... \n\ngeorge: let me just see it. \n\nkramer: come on... \n\ngeorge: let me just see it for a second. \n\ngeorge: oh my god, its exactly the same! \n\njerry: what? \n\ngeorge: when i was ten years old, my parents had this very same statue on the mantle of our apartment. exactly. and, one day, i grabbed it, and i was using it as a microphone. i was singing, macarthur park, and i got to the part about, ill never have that recipe again, and it slipped out of my hand and it broke. my parents looked at me like i smashed the ten commandments. to this day, they bring it up. it was the single most damaging experience in my life, aside from seeing my father naked. \n\nkramer: cmon, george. i saw it first. \n\ngeorge: no, kramer. i have to have this statue. \n\nkramer: no, i got dibs! \n\ngeorge: what? no dibs! i need this statue. cmon, give it! \n\njerry: spread out, spread out you numbskulls. why dont you just settle it like mature adults? \n\nkramer: potato man! \n\ngeorge: no, no, no potato man. inka-dink. \n\nkramer: okay...yea well uh start with me. \n\ngeorge: yeah, good, good. \n\njerry: inka-dink, a bottle of ink, the cork fell out, and you stink. \n\njerry: not because youre dirty, not because youre clean just because you kissed the girl behind the magazine... \n\njerry: and you are it! \n\nkramer: what?! wait a minute. no, no, no. what are you doing? no, no, oh, oh, okay. hes out. i get it. \n\ngeorge: no, no, no, no, im it. i win. \n\njerry: no, hes it. he wins. it is good. \n\nkramer: do over start with him. \n\njerry: no, no, no, come on, kramer. now, you got the socks. \n\nkramer: all right, you can have it. (kramer tosses the statue to george.) \n\ngeorge: (not expecting the statue to be thrown) dit. \n\nkramer: okay, im gonna take the suit, and the shoes, and the hat. \n\njerry: all right, cmon. lets go. \n\nkramer: hey, i look like joe friday in dragnet. \n\ngeorge: i cant believe i won at inka-dink. \n\njerry: come on, lets go. \n\ngeorge: yea. \n\njerry: arent you gonna take it? \n\ngeorge: no, no, no, i dont want to carry it around all night. ill pick it up later. \n\ngeorge: (to kramer) what about your stuff? \n\nkramer: oh, uh, well - okay. \n\njerry: all right, lets go. hey, you know, you owe me one. \n\ngeorge: what? \n\njerry: the inka-dink.. you were it. \n\ngeorge: its bad? \n\njerry: its very bad. \n\nrava: well, if they dont let you be my editor on this book, ill go to another publisher. its that simple. \n\nelaine: you told them that? \n\nrava: of course. \n\nelaine: (excited) this is so fantastic. i dont know how to thank you. \n\njerry: (to rava) so, wheres this boyfriend of yours? i cant wait much longer. ive got a flight. \n\nelaine: oh, probably caught in traffic. \n\nrava: or maybe hes dead. \n\njerry: so what do you write, childrens books? \n\nrava: thats ray. \n\nray: ah, greetings, greetings, and salutations. i beg your forgiveness. my tardiness was unavoidable. rava, my love. elaine, my dear friend. and you must be jerry. lord of the manor. ah, my liege. a pleasure to serve you. \n\njerry: all right... \n\nrava: and we have to get back to work. \n\njerry: i gotta get to the airport. \n\nray: your palace shall sparkle like the stars in heaven upon your save arrival, sire. \n\njerry: the uh toilet brush is under the sink. \n\njerry: i dont really feel that comfortable with a maid, either, because theres that guilt when you have someone cleaning your house. you know, youre sitting there on your sofa, and they go by with the vacuum, im really sorry about this. i dont know why i left that stuff over there. and thats why i could never be a maid, because id have an attitude. id find them, wherever they are in the house, oh, i suppose you couldnt do this? no, dont get up, let me clean up your filth. no, you couldnt dust. no, this is too tough, isnt it? \n\njerry: he really did an amazing job. look! he uncoagulated the top of the dishwashing liquid! (jerry opens refrigerator.) he cleaned out the bottom of the little egg cups! come here, look at this. (he gets on his knees and points.) he cleaned the little one-inch area between the refrigerator and the counter. how did he get in there?! he must be like rubber man! \n\nelaine: theres no rubber man. \n\njerry: why did i think there was a rubber man? theres elastic man... plastic man... \n\nelaine: im leaving. \n\njerry: where are you going? \n\nelaine: to ravas house. ive gotta pick up her manuscript. \n\njerry: oh wait. ill go with you. \n\njerry: elaine, he windexed the little peep hole! \n\nelaine: (to rava) so, the meeting with lippman is all set. hes the editor-in-chief! i think because of your request- \n\nrava: demand. \n\nelaine: they're going to promote me to editor. \n\nrava: daantotin. (there is a sound of the front door being unlocked.) theres ray... late as usual. \n\nray: well, this is an unexpected surprise and delight! the once and future king of comedy, jerry the first, gracing our humble abode. rava, were in the presence of royalty. \n\njerry: hey, ray, listen, you really did a tremendous job cleaning that apartment. \n\nray: but i didnt just clean your apartment. it was a ritual, a ceremony, a celebration of life. \n\njerry: shouldnt you be out on a ledge somewhere? \n\nrava: the water is boiling. are you having tea? \n\nelaine & ray: yes. \n\nelaine: jerry? jerry! \n\njerry: what? \n\nrava: (from the kitchen) ray, would you give me a hand? \n\nray: yeah, im coming! \n\njerry: i think thats the statue from my house. that looks like the statue from my house! \n\nelaine: what statue? \n\njerry: i had a statue! \n\nelaine: you have a statue? i never saw a statue. \n\njerry: my grandfather gave me a statue! \n\nelaine: since when? \n\njerry: whats the difference?! thats the one! he ripped me off! this guy ripped me off! \n\nray: do you take sugar? \n\njerry & elaine: uhh... no. \n\njerry: i cant believe it! this guy ripped me off! \n\nelaine: do you realize what youre saying? \n\njerry: yes! this guy ripped me off! he stole that statue right out of my house! \n\nray: lemon? \n\njerry & elaine: uh... sure/yeah.. \n\nelaine: are you sure? \n\njerry: pretty sure! ninety-nine percent sure. \n\nelaine: ninety-nine percent sure?! \n\nray: ah, sweet elixir. its fragrant nectar a soothing balm for the soul. \n\nrava: ah those are the pastries, ray take care of that, i'm going to get elaine the manuscript. \n\nray: ah, the pastries! \n\nelaine: maybe it just looks the same. maybe its just a coincidence. \n\njerry: coincidence? this guys in my apartment and then, just by coincidence, he has the same exact statue in his apartment? \n\nelaine: i never saw the statue. \n\njerry: i had a statue! what should i do? \n\nelaine: i dont know. \n\njerry: ill call kramer. he can check my house. \n\nelaine: oh jerry, dont blow this for me. \n\njerry: dont worry. (whispering into the phone) kramer! kramer!... its jerry!... jerry!... from next door!... never mind where i am!... yes, jerry seinfeld!... \n\njerry: ma, i told you, just dip the bread in the batter, and put in right in the pan... okay, bye. (jerry hangs up; to rava) my mother. she forgot how to make french toast. you know how mothers are. \n\nrava: my mother left us when i was six years old. all seven of us. we never heard from her again. i hope shes rotting in an alley somewhere! \n\njerry: my moms down in florida. shes got uh one of those condos. hot down there in the summer. you ever been down there? \n\nray: i love these pastries. you know, in scandinavian mythology, the pastries were the food of the gods. \n\njerry: listen, uh i just remembered... im... uh, getting a facial. \n\nelaine: oh, see you tomorrow morning. \n\nray: how about dinner? \n\njerry: no, i dont eat dinner. dinners for suckers. \n\njerry: uh huh... yeah... okay, thanks anyway... bye. \n\njerry: nope, the cop says its my word against his. theres nothing they can do. \n\nkramer: lets go get him. \n\njerry: yeah, right. \n\ngeorge: we cant just let him get away with this. \n\njerry: do you realize how crazy he had to be to do something like this? he knew i was gonna know its missing, and he took it! and of all things to take! i left my watch, tape recorder, stereo. hes crazy. \n\nkramer: you wanna go get him? \n\nelaine: well, then, if hes crazy you should just forget it. \n\ngeorge: forget it? i already called my parents. i told them to expect the surprise of a lifetime. my mothers making her roasted potatoes! \n\nelaine: george, do you realize that rava has asked me to edit her book? \n\ngeorge: who is this rava? \n\nkramer: i say we get him. \n\nelaine: no! \n\ngeorge: let me just call him. \n\njerry: ill call him. (jerry picks up the cordless phone. he points to the rotary phone on the coffee table. kramer, george, and elaine struggle for it.) hello, ray?... hi, ray, this is ravas friend, elaines friend, jerry... the king of comedy, right. listen, you know that statue on your mantle, the one with the blue lady? (he covers the reciever and yells at kramer and george.) would you shut up?! (to the phone) yeah, you dont want to talk about it over the phone?.. you dont want rava to hear?... yeah, i understand... you know that coffee shop near my house, monks?... all right, tomorrow... one o clock... great, okay, bye. \n\nelaine: all right, look, look, look. lets say he stole it. \n\ngeorge: oh, he stole it! \n\nelaine: cmon, you cant do anything about it. the cops wont do anything. what, are you going to fight him? why dont you just forget it? \n\njerry & george: no. \n\ngeorge: i thought you said one oclock. \n\njerry: relax, hes late. hes always late. its part of his m.o. \n\ngeorge: remember, dont take any crap. \n\njerry: yeah, yeah. dont worry about it. \n\ngeorge: ill be right here. \n\njerry: thats comforting. shh. hes coming. (to ray) ray? \n\nray: oh, jerry. i cant believe you asked me about that statue. do you know how much trouble you couldve got me into? \n\njerry: well, i didnt... \n\nray: rava was standing right next to me. i never told her where i got the statue. \n\ngeorge: (muttering to himself) i wonder why. \n\njerry: well, just give it back, and i wont say anything. \n\nray: give it back? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nray: what are you talking about? \n\njerry: what are you talking about? \n\ngeorge: what is he talking about? \n\nray: im talking about the statue. \n\njerry: yeah, me too. \n\nray: give it back to whom? \n\njerry: me. \n\ngeorge: yeah, him. \n\nray: you? \n\njerry: yeah. me. \n\nray: im not getting this. \n\ngeorge: you already got it. \n\njerry: ray, i had a statue in my house. you were in my house and then i saw it in your house. \n\nray: what are you saying? \n\njerry: what am i saying? \n\ngeorge: take a wild guess. \n\nray: are you saying i stole your statue? \n\ngeorge: what a mind. \n\njerry: well, i... \n\nray: i cant believe what im hearing. \n\njerry: i cant believe what im hearing. \n\ngeorge: i cant believe what im hearing. \n\nray: for your information, i got that statue in a pawn shop. \n\ngeorge: pawn shop? \n\njerry: a pawn shop? \n\nray: yes. in chinatown with the money i earned cleaning peoples apartments. \n\ngeorge: cleaning them out. \n\njerry: oh, excuse me... look, ray, you were the only person in my house. \n\nray: whats behind this? its rava, isnt it? \n\ngeorge: again with the rava. \n\nray: you want her. \n\njerry: no, shes a little too cheery for me. \n\nray: shes from finland, for crying out loud. finland! do you understand?! \n\njerry: i know finland. theyre neutral. \n\nray: is it me? do i rub you the wrong way? \n\njerry: no, i actually find you quite charming. a bit verbose at times... \n\ngeorge: oh, i find you so charming. you wuss. \n\njerry: (to george) did you call me a wuss? \n\nray: what did you say? \n\njerry: i said luss. im at a luss. \n\nray: i would just love to take you down to the shop where i got it. \n\njerry: thats not necessary. (george slams his menu down on the table repeatedly.) you know, maybe its not that bad an idea. \n\nray: and i would love to. nothing would please me more. but, unfortunately, the guy retired and moved to singapore. \n\ngeorge: singapore?! do you hear this? \n\nray: if you really want, maybe i can contact the guy in singapore and have him make a photostat of the receipt and send it over. \n\ngeorge: thats it! thats it! i cant take it. i cant take it anymore! you stole the statue! youre a theif! youre a liar! \n\njerry: george... \n\nray: who is this? \n\ngeorge: im the judge and the jury, pal. and the verdict is guilty! \n\nray: whats going on here? \n\ngeorge: guilty! \n\nray: your friend is crazy. \n\ngeorge: oh, im crazy! \n\njerry: george, george... \n\nray: ive got to get going. i have a class. \n\ngeorge: oh ho! class, huh? at columbia? let me tell you something, pal. i called the registrars office. i checked you out. they have no record of a ray thomas at that school! you liar! \n\nray: well, thats because im registered under my full legal name, raymond thomas wochinski. ray thomas is my professional name. \n\ngeorge: you mean alias. \n\nray: you are starting to make me angry! \n\ngeorge: well, that was bound to happen. \n\nray: (to jerry) i hope you think about what youve done here today. and if you want to call and apologize, you know where to reach me. \n\njerry: hey, ray. \n\nray: yes? \n\njerry: how did you get the goop out of the top of the dishwashing liquid? it was like a brand-new nozzle! \n\nelaine: nervous? \n\nrava: why should i be? \n\nelaine: yeah. right. \n\nrava: your notes are very insightful. \n\nelaine: the book is great. did you go out last night? \n\nrava: no. we made love on the floor like two animals. ray is insatiable. \n\nelaine: they all are. \n\nrava: was jerry? \n\nelaine: i cant remember. \n\nrava: you know, ray is very upset over these accusations. \n\nelaine: oh, well, im staying out of this one. this is between them. i am not getting involved. \n\nrava: so you think he stole it?! \n\nelaine: well, you have to admit... the circumstantial evidence... \n\nrava: i admit nothing! \n\nman: will you put that cigarette out, please? \n\nelaine: well, i mean, he was in the apartment, and then its gone and its in your apartment. \n\nrava: maybe you think were in cahoots. \n\nelaine: no, no. but it is quite a coincidence. \n\nrava: yes, thats all a coincidence! \n\nelaine: a big coincidence. \n\nrava: not a big coincidence. a coincidence! \n\nelaine: no, thats a big coincidence. \n\nrava: thats what a coincidence is! there are no small coincidences and big coincidences! \n\nelaine: no, there are degrees of coincidences. \n\nrava: no, there are only coincidences! ask anyone! \n\nrava: are there big coincidences and small coincidences, or just coincidences? well?! well?! \n\nman: will you put that cigarette out?! \n\nrava: maybe i put it out on your face! (to elaine) its just like ray said. you and jerry are jealous of our love. youre trying to destroy us. \n\nelaine: shouldnt you be out on a ledge somewhere? \n\ngeorge: ma, will you stop?... its just a statue!... how is it my fault?!... it was stolen. i didnt even touch it this time... okay, fine... i dont see why this should affect to potatoes!... okay... goodbye. (george hangs up.) she doesnt react to disappointment very well. unlike me. \n\nkramer: im not happy about this. \n\nelaine: why dont we just throw a molotov cocktail through their window? \n\ngeorge: theres just no justice. this experience has changed me. its made me more cynical, more bitter, more jaded. \n\njerry: really? \n\ngeorge: (casually) sure, why not. \n\nelaine: well, how do you think i feel? instead of editing the first novel of a major young writing talent, i am proofreading a food allergy cookbook. \n\njerry: cant you talk to your boss? \n\nelaine: i did. he loves rava. worse, he loves ray. and he didn't think youre funny at all. \n\nkramer: (talking to himself) im not happy about this. \n\njerry: well, perhaps we can take comfort in the knowledge that in the next world, ray will be the recipient of a much larger and more harsh brand of justice.. \n\ngeorge: yeah, hell have my parents. \n\nkramer: (from the other side of the door) police! open up! \n\nray: police? \n\nkramer: freeze, mother! \n\nray: hey. \n\nkramer: shut up. spread em. i said spread em! (looks around) youre in big trouble son. burglary, grand larceny, possession of stolen goods... and uh, uh... murder. \n\nray: murder?! \n\nkramer: shut up! keep em spread! just make love to that wall, pervert! \n\nray: i think you have me confused with somebody else. \n\nkramer: is your name ray? \n\nray: yeah. \n\nkramer: yeah, youre the punk im looking for! \n\nray: hey, hey, are you a cop? \n\nkramer: yeah, im a cop. im a good cop. im a damn good cop! (on that line, kramer points to ray, and ray turns back to the wall. kramer heads for the door.) todays your lucky day, junior, cause im gonna let you off with a warning. any more of this criminal activity, and youll be sorry. you got me? \n\nray: got you? i dont even know what the hell youre talking about. \n\nkramer: good, good. lets uh keep it that way. \n\njerry: all right, all right. whats the big hubbub, bub? \n\ngeorge: kramer, i cant believe it. oh, youre my hero! \n\nkramer: yeah. \n\njerry: kramer, what did you do? \n\nkramer: well, lets just say i didnt take him to peoples court. \n\ngeorge: i feel like a huge weights been lifted off my shoulders. i... i... i feel happy! kramer, i dont know how to thank you! \n\nkramer: well, ill think of something. \n\njerry: people are going to steal from you. you cant stop them. but, everybody has their own little personal security things. things that they think will foil the crooks, you know? in your own mind, right? you go to the beach, go in the water, put your wallet in the sneaker, whos gonna know? what criminal mind could penetrate this fortress of security? i tied a bow. they cant get through that. i put the wallet down by the toe of the sneaker. they never look there. they check the heel, they move on. \n\njerry: whenever i see the news and they're hauling in some kind of terrorist, psycho, maniac, mass murderer guy. you notice he's always covering up his face with the newspaper, with the jacket, with the hat. what is he worried about? i mean what is this man's reputation? that he has to worry about this kind of exposure damaging his good name? i mean, what is he up for a big job promotion down at the office or something? afraid the boss is gonna catch this on tv and go \"isn't that johnson from sales? he's up in that clock tower picking people off one by one. i don't know if that's that kind of man we want heading up that new branch office. he should be in bill collection. i think he's got aptitude.\" \n\nlevitan: (on the phone) ha ha, she was great. you don't want to know. hey breaky, remind me to tell you what we did in lake george. (laughing) get this...i got it all on video. (laughing) \n\ngeorge: that's it. this is it. i'm done. through. it's over. i'm gone. finished. over. i will never work for you again. look at you. (laughing) you think you're an important man? is that what you think? you are a laughingstock. you are a joke. these people are laughing at you. you're nothing! you have no brains, no ability, nothing! (knocking object over on desk) i quit! \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: boy, i have really had it with newman. he wakes me up again last night at three o'clock in the morning to tell me he's going up onto the roof to kill himself. \n\njerry: well, what'd you say? \n\nkramer: i said \" jump.\" well, he's been threatening to do this for years. i said \" look, if you're gonna kill yourself do it already and stop bothering me.\" at least i'd respect the guy for accomplishing something. \n\njerry: what's his problem? \n\nkramer: no job. no women. \n\njerry: he called the right guy. \n\nkramer: well, what am i supposed to tell him? how much there is for him to live for? why should i lie to him? \n\njerry: all right, i'm leaving. i going to the laundry. \n\nkramer: why don't you use the machines down in the basement? \n\njerry: fluff and fold. the only way to live. (snapping fingers in tune with words) i drop it off. i pick it up. it's a delight. \n\nkramer: how 'bout if i put a few things -- \n\njerry: wait a sec. i don't wanna do -- \n\nkramer: well, you're going over there. \n\njerry: i don't wanna mix in everything! my guys don't know your guys. you can't just lock 'em all in the same machine together. they'll start a riot. \n\nkramer: have you ever met my guys? \n\njerry: no. i can't say as i have. \n\nkramer: well! \n\njerry: all right. put 'em on top. \n\nkramer: ah! \n\njerry: oh, beautiful. \n\njerry: this stuff on top is my friends. could i get it done in a separate machine? \n\nvic: i'll have to charge you for another machine. \n\njerry: whatever it costs. in fact, i would prefer it if the machines are not even touching each other. because something could, you know, jump across. \n\ngeorge: guess what. \n\njerry: how did you know i was here? \n\ngeorge: kramer. guess what. \n\njerry: i don't know. \n\ngeorge: i quit my job. \n\njerry: get outta here. \n\ngeorge: i couldn't take it anymore. \n\nvic: you can have this on monday. (hands jerry a ticket) \n\njerry: what happened? levitan? \n\ngeorge: i go in to use his private bathroom, everybody uses it, and then i get a memo - a memo - telling me to use the men's room in the hall. well, (laughing) i mean we share it with pace electronics. it's disgusting! \n\njerry: you and your toilets. \n\ngeorge: i snapped! it was the last straw. (sighs) \n\njerry: so, what are you gonna do now? are you gonna look for something else in real estate? \n\ngeorge: nobody's hiring now. the market's terrible. \n\njerry: so what are you gonna do? \n\ngeorge: i like sports. i could do something in sports. \n\njerry: uh-huh. uh-huh. in what capacity? \n\ngeorge: you know, like the general manager of a baseball team or something. \n\njerry: yeah. well, that - that could be tough to get. \n\ngeorge: well, it doesn't even have to be the general manager. maybe i could be like, an announcer. like a color man. you know how i always make those interesting comments during the game. \n\njerry: yeah. yeah. you make good comments. \n\ngeorge: what about that? \n\njerry: well, they tend to give those jobs to ex-ballplayers and people that are, you know, in broadcasting. \n\ngeorge: well, that's really not fair. \n\njerry: i know. well, okay. okay. what else do ya like? \n\ngeorge: movies. i like to watch movies. \n\njerry: yeah. yeah. \n\ngeorge: do they pay people to watch movies? \n\njerry: projectionists. \n\ngeorge: that's true. \n\njerry: but you gotta know how to work the projector. \n\ngeorge: right. \n\njerry: and it's probably a union thing. \n\ngeorge: (scoffs) those unions. (sighs) okay. sports,...movies. what about a talk show host? \n\njerry: talk show host. that's good. \n\ngeorge: i think i'd be good at that. i talk to people all the time. someone even told me once they thought i'd be a good talk show host. \n\njerry: really? \n\ngeorge: yeah. a couple of people. i don't get that, though. where do you start? \n\njerry: well, that's where it gets tricky. \n\ngeorge: you can't just walk into a building and say \" i wanna be a talk show host.\" \n\njerry: i wouldn't think so. \n\ngeorge: it's all politics. \n\njerry: all right. okay. sports, movies, talk show host. what else? \n\ngeorge: this could have been a huge mistake. \n\njerry: well, it doesn't sound like you completely thought this through. \n\ngeorge: (sighs) guess not. what should i do? \n\njerry: maybe you can just go back. \n\ngeorge: go back? \n\njerry: yeah. pretend like it never happened. \n\ngeorge: you mean just walk into the staff meeting on monday morning like it never happened? \n\njerry: sure. you're an emotional person. people don't take you seriously. \n\ngeorge: just..go back. pretend the whole thing never happened. \n\njerry: never happened. \n\ngeorge: i was just blowin' off a little steam. so what? \n\njerry: so what? you're entitled. \n\ngeorge: i'm emotional. \n\njerry: that's right. you're emotional. \n\ngeorge: never happened. \n\njerry: never happened. \n\njerry: to me the most annoying thing about the couple of times that i did work in an office. is that when you go in, in the morning you say hi to everyone and for some reason throughout the day you have to continue to greet these people all day every time you see them. i mean you walk in \"morning bill, morning bob, how you doing? fine\" ten minutes later you see him in the hall, \"how ya doin'?\" every time you pass you gotta come up with another little greeting. you know you start racking your brains you know you do the little eyebrow \"hey\" you start coming up with nicknames for them. \"jimbo.\" \n\ngeorge: how ya doin'? \n\nglenda: what are you doing here? \n\ngeorge: what? i work here. \n\nglenda: i thought you quit. \n\ngeorge: what quit? (laughing) who quit? \n\ndan: bill, how was your weekend? \n\nbill: oh, excellent weekend. what about your weekend? \n\ndan: fine weekend. \n\ngeorge: yeah. good weekend. \n\ndan: went up to the cape. took the kids sailing. (laughing) lisa was a little scared at first, but that kids' gonna be a good sailor someday. \n\ngeorge: aw, she's gonna be a fine sailor. \n\nlevitan: ava, what happened to you friday afternoon? \n\nava: oh, i got a little tied up. \n\nlevitan: i'll bet you did. \n\nlevitan: i wanna remind everyone that the tenth anniversary party for rick barr properties is gonna be wednesday afternoon at four o'clock in lasky's bar, on madison 48th. i want all of you to be there. this really means a lot to me. is that costanza over there? what are you doing here? \n\ngeorge: what? \n\nlevitan: am i crazy, or didn't you quit? \n\ngeorge: when? \n\nlevitan: friday. \n\ngeorge: oh, what? what? that? are you kidding? i didn't quit. what? you took that seriously? \n\nlevitan: you mean, laughingstock? all that stuff? \n\ngeorge: come on. will you stop it. \n\nlevitan: no brains? no ability? \n\ngeorge: teasing. \n\nlevitan: okay. i want you outta here. \n\ngeorge: i don't know where you're getting this from. i....you're serious aren't you? oh, (laughing) you see? you see, you just don't know my sense of humor. dan, don't i joke around all the time? \n\ndan: i wouldn't say all the time. \n\nlevitan: you can't win. you can't beat me. that's why i'm here and you're there. because i'm a winner. i'll always be a winner and you'll always be a loser. \n\ngeorge: \" i'll always be a winner and you'll always be a loser.\" this is what he said to me. \n\njerry: well, so that's that. \n\ngeorge: no. that's not that. \n\njerry: that's not that? \n\ngeorge: no. \n\njerry: well, if that's not that, what is that? \n\ngeorge: i've got some plans. i got plans. \n\njerry: what kind of plans? \n\ngeorge: what's the difference? \n\njerry: you don't wanna tell me? \n\ngeorge: i'm gonna slip him a mickey. \n\njerry: what? in his drink? are you outta your mind? what are you peter lorre? \n\ngeorge: you don't understand. he's got this big party coming up. he's been looking forward to this for months. this is gonna destroy the whole thing. \n\njerry: what if you destroy him? \n\ngeorge: no. no. no. no. no. don't worry. it's perfectly safe. i researched it. he'll get a little woozy. he might keel over. \n\njerry: well, wha - what does that do? big deal. \n\ngeorge: this is what they would do in the movies! it's a beautiful thing! it's like a movie! i'm gonna slip him a mickey! \n\njerry: you've really gone mental. \n\ngeorge: nah. \n\njerry: where are you gonna get this mickey? i can't believe i'm saying \"mickey\"! \n\ngeorge: i got a source. \n\njerry: you got a mickey source? \n\ngeorge: and elaine is gonna keep him busy. \n\njerry: elaine? how did you rope her into this? \n\ngeorge: i told her what a sexist he is. how he cheats on his wife. \n\njerry: she knew that. \n\ngeorge: but she didn't know he doesn't recycle. \n\njerry: what is the point of all this? \n\ngeorge: revenge. \n\njerry: oh, the best revenge is living well. \n\ngeorge: there's no chance of that. \n\njerry: did you get your laundry? \n\nkramer: yeah. \n\njerry: what's with you? \n\nkramer: he jumped. \n\njerry: what? \n\nkramer: yeah. newman jumped. \n\njerry: did he call you last night? \n\nkramer: oh, yeah. yeah. yeah. yeah. yeah. yeah. \n\njerry: what did you say? \n\nkramer: i said \" wave to me when you pass my window.\" \n\njerry: whew. did he wave? \n\nkramer: no! he jumped from the second floor. mr. papanickolous saw him from across the street. he's lying out there faking. see, he's trying to get back at me. \n\njerry: (realizing something) oh, my god! \n\nkramer: what's the matter? \n\njerry: (tearing through his laundry bag) well, on thursday when i came home i had $1500 on me. for some reason i decided to hide it in my laundry bag and then i completely forgot about it...and then i took the laundry in on friday! oh, come on, let's go. \n\nkramer: where? where? \n\njerry: to the laundromat. \n\nvic: i never saw it. \n\nkramer: okay. come on. give the guy his money. what -- what are you doing? \n\nvic: hey, you see that sign right there? (points to a sign saying \"not responsible for valuables\" \n\njerry: oh, i see. so, you put up a sign so you can do whatever you want? you're not a part of society. \n\nvic: yea that's right, 'cuz this place is my country and i'm the president, and that's my constitution. i'm not responsible. \n\njerry: so, anybody leaves anything here, you can just take it? you have a license to steal? you are like the james bond of laundry? \n\nvic: you ever hear of a bank? \n\njerry: come on. let's go. \n\nkramer: no. you can't let him get away with this. \n\nelaine: which one is he? \n\ngeorge: that's him over there. the one that looks like a blowfish. \n\nelaine: oh, yeah. i see him. \n\ngeorge: yeah. hey, thanks for doing this. \n\nelaine: why pass up the opportunity to go to prison? \n\ngeorge: this is by far the most exciting thing i've ever done. \n\nelaine: yeah. it is kind of cool. \n\ngeorge: first time in my life i've ever gotten back at someone. \n\nelaine: i can't believe we're doing this. this is the kind of thing they do in the movies. \n\ngeorge: that's exactly what i told jerry! \n\nelaine: really? \n\ngeorge: yes! (both laugh) god, i've never felt so alive! \n\njerry: maybe we should call this off. \n\nkramer: come on. what's the big deal? just gonna put a little concrete in the washing machine. \n\njerry: and what's gonna happen? \n\nkramer: well, it'll gonna mix up with the water, and then by the end of the cycle it'll be a solid block! \n\njerry: if only you could put your mind to something worthwhile. you're like lex luthor. \n\nkramer: you keep him busy. \n\nkramer: whoa! \n\ngeorge: you go over there - \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\ngeorge: you start flirting with him and i'll come by and, while you're keeping him busy, i'll slip it in his drink. \n\nelaine: wouldn't it be easier just to punch him in the mouth? \n\nlevitan: come on! they're terrible. they got no infield. \n\nelaine: oops! (bumps into levitan) 'scuse me. \n\nlevitan: yeah. \n\ngreeny: i'm gonna get some food. you want some? \n\nlevitan: nah. \n\nelaine: hi. \n\nlevitan: hi. \n\nelaine: (sneezes) \n\nlevitan: god bless you. \n\nelaine: oh! thank you. thank you very much. (blowing nose) really. i mean that. i am not one of those people who give insincere thank you's. no sir. no sir. when i thank someone i really thank them. so, thank... yoooou! \n\nlevitan: (confused) you're welcome. \n\nelaine: people don't say \" god bless you \" as much as they used to. have you noticed that? \n\nlevitan: no. \n\nelaine: (having trouble getting him to pay attention) so, i'm going to a nudist colony next week. \n\nlevitan: (interested) nudist colony? \n\nelaine: oh, yeah. yeah. i love nudist colonies. they help me..unwind. aah! \n\nlevitan: (laughing) i'd never been to a nudist colony. \n\nelaine: oh, really? oh, you should go. they're great. they're great. of course, when it's over, it's - it's hard to get used to all this clothing, you know. so, a lot of times, i'll just lock the door to my office and i'll just sit there naked. \n\nlevitan: seriously? \n\nelaine: oh, yeah. i usually work naked a...couple hours a day. \n\ngeorge: (whispering) glenda, can i ask you a favor? can i have this seat? \n\nglenda: (loud) what do you have to sit here for? there are plenty of other seats. \n\ngeorge: (whispering) i can't explain. it's very important that i sit here. \n\nglenda: (loud) what are you doing here anyway? i thought you were fired. \n\ngeorge: (whispering angrily) okay. okay. fine. \n\nelaine: i cook naked, i clean....i clean naked, i drive naked. naked. naked. naked. \n\nlevitan: who are you? \n\nelaine: oh, you don't wanna know, mistah. i'm trouble. big trouble. \n\njerry: (trying to divert vic's attention) what about the gentle cycle? you ever use that? \n\njerry: do you think it's effeminate for a man to put clothes in a gentle cycle? \n\njerry: what about fine fabrics? how do you deal with that kind of temperament? \n\njerry: what about stone washing? you ever witness one of those? that must be something. what? do they just pummel the jeans with rocks? \n\nkramer: i didn't realize it was a full box. \n\ngeorge: (trying again with glenda) i'm gonna count to three. if you don't give up the chair, the wig is coming off. \n\nglenda: i don't' wear a wig. \n\ngeorge: one... (glenda seeing george is serious; gets up and leaves) \n\nelaine: no. no. no. no. no. i don't really have a phone. in fact, i - i really don't have an apartment. i kinda sleep around. \n\nelaine: i just like to have and few drinks and just let the guy do whatever he wants. would you close your eyes for a second? i wanna tell you a secret about my bra. \n\ngeorge: hello, rick. \n\nlevitan: heh heh heh hey! look who's here! \n\ngeorge: that's right, ricky boy, it's me! \n\nlevitan: you know something, costanza? i'm a very lucky man. \n\ngeorge: oh! \n\nlevitan: i've always been lucky. things just seem to fall right in my lap. \n\ngeorge: boom! \n\nlevitan: you wouldn't believe it if i told you. in fact, uh, i'm glad you're here. you know, maybe i've been a little rough on ya, huh? \n\ngeorge: oh. \n\nlevitan: why should we let petty, personal differences get in the way of business? i, uh, i want you to come back. (george is shocked) you can use my bathroom anytime you want. \n\ngeorge: you want me to come back? uh... \n\nlevitan: hey! how about a toast, huh? everybody, a toast! \n\ngeorge: rick. \n\nlevitan: everyone, i wanna propose a toast to ten great years at rick barr properties. \n\ngeorge: uh, rick.. \n\nlevitan: and all the people in this room, (clears throat) that made that possible.. \n\ngeorge: rick. \n\nlevitan: i'd also like to welcome back into the fold our..our little shrimpy friend, george costanza who, although he didn't really have a very good year -- how you blew that mcconnell deal, i'll never know. but, hey, what the hell, huh? we've always enjoyed his antics around the office. heh heh. anything you wanna add to this? \n\ngeorge: drink up. (levitan takes a drink) \n\ngeorge: i like history. civil war. maybe i could be a professor, or something. \n\nelaine: well, to teach something you really have to know a lot about it. i think you need a degree. \n\njerry: yeah. that's true. \n\nkramer: (seeing jerry is with people) oh. \n\njerry: what? (kramer hands jerry an envelope) my god, the money! the 1500! where'd you find it? \n\nkramer: it was in my laundry. \n\njerry: in your laundry the whole time? i told you not to mix in our guys. what did we figure the damage on that machine would be? \n\nkramer: it was about 1200 bucks. \n\nnewman: kramer! \n\nkramer: oh! that's newman. (goes over to the window) \n\nnewman: i'm on the roof! \n\nkramer: (yelling up) well, what are you waiting for? \n\njerry: elaine, come on, take a walk with me down to the laundromat. i gotta pay this guy the money.. \n\ngeorge: (talking to nobody) i like horses. maybe i could be a stable boy. \n\nkramer: you wanna shoot some pool tonight? \n\nnewman: i can't. i'm goin' to a movie. \n\ngeorge: (talking to nobody) nah. it's probably a union thing. \n\njerry: people like the idea of revenge. have you ever heard the expression 'the best revenge is living well' i've said this, in other words it means supposedly the best way to get back at someone is just by being happy and successful in your own life. sounds nice, doesn't really work on that charles bronson. kinda level. you know what i mean, those movies where his whole family gets wiped out by some street scum. you think you could go up to him, 'charlie forgot about the 357 what you need is a custom-made suit and a convertible. new carpeting, french doors, a divan. that'll show those punks.' \n\n[setting: night club] \n\njerry: you know, i tell ya, i gotta say that i'm enjoying adulthood. for a lot of reasons. and, i'll tell you reason number one as an adult, if i want a cookie, i have a cookie, okay? i have three cookies or four cookies, or eleven cookies if i want. many times i will intentionally ruin my entire appetite. just ruin it. and then, i call my mother up right after to tell her that i did it. \"hello, mom? yeah, i just ruined my entire appetite.. cookies.\" so what if you ruin.. see, because as an adult, we understand even if you ruin an appetite, there's another appetite coming right behind it. there's no danger in running out of appetites. i've got millions of them, i'll ruin them whenever i want! \n\n[setting: jerry's apartment] \n\ntv voice: (germanic) look, sigmund. look in the sky. the planets are on fire. it is just as you prophesied. the planets of our solar system, incinerating. like flaming globes, sigmund. like flaming globes.. ah, ha, ha, ha.. \n\n[setting: jerry's bedroom] \n\n[setting: coffee shop] \n\nelaine: what do you got, a cucumber? \n\ngeorge: yeah, so what? \n\nelaine: you're bringing in an ouside cucumber? \n\ngeorge: they refuse to put cucumber in the salad. i need cucumber. \n\njerry: (trying to read the note) what have i done? i can't read this! ful-hel-mo-nen-ter-val? i got up last night, i wrote this down, i thought i had this great bit. \n\nelaine: no. let me see that. (takes the paper from jerry) don't-mess-with-johnny.\" \n\njerry: johnny? johnny who? johnny carson? did i insult johnny on the tonight show? \n\nelaine: (joking) did you mess with johnny, jerry? \n\ngeorge: let me see that. (studies the note) \n\nelaine: hey, where's kramer? \n\njerry: i don't know. that's like asking \"where's waldo?\" \n\ngeorge: (still holding the note) i think i'm having a heart attack. \n\njerry: i don't think that's it. \n\ngeorge: i'm not kidding. \n\njerry: what does that mean? \n\nelaine: i think what he's trying to say is that he's having a heart attack. \n\njerry: oh, he's having a heart attack. \n\ngeorge: tightness.. \n\njerry: c'mon. \n\ngeorge: shortness of breath.. \n\njerry: oh, this is ridiculous. \n\ngeorge: radiating waves of pain.. \n\njerry: i know what this is. you saw that show on pbs last night, coronary country. (to elaine) i saw it in the tv guide. i called him and told him to make sure and not watch it. \n\ngeorge: there was nothing else on. oh, the left arm.. the left arm. \n\njerry: (to elaine) he saw that show on anorexia last year, and ate like an animal for two weeks. \n\ngeorge: why can't i have a heart attack? i'm allowed. \n\njerry: so what do you want? you want me take you to the hospital? \n\ngeorge: manhattan memorial, less of a line. \n\njerry: i'll call an ambulance. (exits) \n\nwaitress: is everything alright? \n\ngeorge: we'll just take a check. (she leaves the check. george, in all his cheapness, can't help but to review the check. he finds an error) you made a mistake on the.. \n\nelaine: george! \n\n[setting: hospital room] \n\nman: ooohhh... argghhh.. \n\ngeorge: are.. are you okay? \n\nman: ooooooohhh.. \n\ngeorge: i'm george.. george costanza.. i've never been in the hospital a day in my life.. except when i had my tonsils out. you know, they never gave me any ice cream. i always felt that- \n\nman: shut up! \n\njerry: well? what do you think? \n\nnurse 1: \"salami, salami, bologna.\" definitely. \n\njerry: \"salami salami bologna\"? \n\ndoctor: (in a hurry) oh, your friend's fine. he didn't have a heart attack. i'll be in - in a few minutes. \n\njerry: (sarcastic) what a surprise. (enters george's room overly sympathetic - leading george to think that the doctor told jerry something significant) hey, how ya doin' buddy? you need anything? do you want me to go out and get you a superman comic? \n\ngeorge: no, no thanks. \n\njerry: (still going along with the practical joke) you know, i was wondering.. you know that black hawks jacket you have? \n\ngeorge: oh, sure, my black hawks jacket. i love my black hawks jacket. \n\njerry: well, you know, i was thinking - if things don't exactly work out.. \n\ngeorge: well, it wouldn't fit you. the sleeves are too short. \n\njerry: no, i tried it on. it fits good. \n\ngeorge: well, i didn't really think about what i was gonna do with all.. \n\njerry: well, you know.. \n\ngeorge: (reluctantly) well, okay. \n\njerry: oh, and.. do you think it would be alright if i called susan davis? \n\ngeorge: susan davis? (getting possessive) hey, wait a second.. \n\njerry: well, it's not like we'd be bumping into you. \n\ngeorge: i don't know.. you and susan davis? \n\njerry: you know, if your future was a little more certain.. \n\ngeorge: okay, go ahead. call her, get married, have babies, have a great life.. what do i care? i'm finished. (really depressed) it's all over for me. in fact, let's end it right now. jerry, kill me, kill me now. i'm begging you. let's just get it over with. be a pal.. just take the pillow and put it over my face. \n\njerry: well, ah.. (takes his pillow) what? kind of like this? (violently smothers george with the pillow. george freaks out. he didn't think jerry would actually do it) \n\ngeorge: what are ya doing?! whadya, crazy?! \n\nelaine: jerry! \n\njerry: (acts like he was cought red-handed) elaine, what are you doing here? (takes the pillow off george, and puts it back on his bed) \n\ngeorge: (to jerry) jerk off. \n\njerry: (whispering) there's nothing wrong with him. i saw the doctor. he's fine. \n\nelaine: hi, george. how ya feeling? is anybody getting your apartment? \n\ngeorge: i'll tell ya, if i ever get out of here, i'm gonna change my life. i'm gonna do a whole zen thing. take up yoga, meditate.. i'll eat right. calm down, lose my anger.. (sees jerry and elaine aren't listening. he snaps) hey, is anybody listening?! \n\ndoctor: (to elaine) uh, hello. (to george) uh, mr. costanza? \n\ngeorge: (panicky) uh, yeah. you know, doctor, i gotta tell you, i feel a lot better. \n\ndoctor: well, we looked at your ekg's, ran some tests, did a complete work-up. \n\ngeorge: (getting in a more panicked state) oh god, mommy! \n\ndoctor: and you simply haven't had a heart attack. \n\ngeorge: (relieved) i haven't? i'm okay? i'm okay? oh, thank you, thank you, doctor! i don't know how to thank you. \n\njerry: (sarcastic) hey, that was really fun, george. can we go home now? \n\ndoctor: no, actually, we'd like to keep him here overnight for observation, just to be safe. \n\ngeorge: oh, sure. sure, anything. can you believe it? there's nothing wrong with me. \n\ndoctor: well, i wouldn't go that far. \n\ngeorge: (starting to panic again) what? oh my god. what? is it meningitis? scoliosis? lupis?! is it lupis?! \n\ndoctor: have you ever had your tonsils taken out? \n\ngeorge: my tonsils? yeah, when i was a kid. \n\ndoctor: well, they've grown back. your adenoids are swollen too. \n\ngeorge: really? \n\nelaine: (jokingly hits the doctor) whose tonsils grow back? (laughs) \n\ndoctor: it happens. \n\njerry: yeah, if you've been exposed to gamma rays. \n\nelaine: i still have my tonsils. everyone in my family has their tonsils. in fact, we were forbidden to socialize with anyone who didn't have their tonsils. \n\ndoctor: that's interesting. because, no one in my family has their tonsils, and we were forbidden to socialize with tonsil people. \n\njerry: (sarcastically) well, it's like the capulets and the montagues. \n\ngeorge: (drawing attention back to him) excuse me! \n\ndoctor: anyway, i strongly recommend they come out. \n\ngeorge: what? you mean with a knife? \n\ndoctor: yes. with a knife. you know, snip, snip. anyway, you'd be completely under, you wouldn't feel a thing. and when you wake up, you can have some ice cream. \n\ngeorge: (angry) yeah, that's what they told me the last time. \n\ndoctor: think about it. (turns to leave, but runs into elaine) excuse me. \n\nelaine: (flustered) oh, i'm sorry. (doctor exits) i just.. have to ask that doctor one more question. (leaves) \n\njerry: women go after doctors like men go after models. they want someone with knowledge of the body.. we just want the body. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: boy, they got a great cafeteria downstairs. hot food, sandwiches, a salad bar.. it's like a sizzler's opened up a hospital! (sits and starts eating) so, how did you have a heart attack? you're a young man. what were you doing? are they gonna do a zipper job? oh, they love to do zipper jobs. \n\njerry: (trying to shut him up) kramer. \n\nkramer: the really bad thing about the heart is the sex thing. see, you gotta be careful about sex now. you get that heart pumping and suddenly, boom! next thing you know, you got a hose coming out of your chest attached to a piece of luggage. \n\njerry: kramer, george didn't have a heart attack. \n\nkramer: no? that's good. \n\ngeorge: i have to have my tonsils taken out. \n\nkramer: oh man.. no.. george, we gotta get you outta here. get out! right now! they'll kill ya in here. \n\njerry: (trying to calm george down) it's routine surgery. \n\nkramer: oh yeah? my friend, bob saccomanno, he came in here for a hernia operation.. oh yeah, routine surgery.. now he's sittin' around in a chair by a window going, \"my name is bob\" .. george, whatever you do, don't let 'em cut you. don't let 'em cut you.. \n\ngeorge: well, what should i do, kramer? \n\njerry: well, for one think, don't listen to him. \n\nkramer: i'll tell you what to do, i'll tell you what to do. you go to tor eckman. tor, tor, he'll fix you right up. he's a herbalist, a healer, george. he's not just gonna fix the tonsils and the adenoids, he is gonna change the whole way you function - body and mind. \n\njerry: eckman? i thought he was doing time? \n\nkramer: no, no, he's out. he got out. see, the medical establishment, see, they tried to frame him. it's all politics. but he's a rebel. \n\njerry: a rebel? no. johnny yuma was a rebel. eckman is a nut. george, you want to take care of your tonsils, you do it in a hospital. with a doctor. \n\nkramer: he's holistic, george. he's holistic. \n\ngeorge: holistic.. that sounds right. \n\njerry: george, you need a medical doctor. \n\ngeorge: (to jerry) let me ask you something.. how much do you think it would cost to have tonsils and adenoids removed in the hospital? \n\njerry: well, an overnight stay in a hospital? minor surgery? i dunno, four grand. \n\ngeorge: uh-huh. and how much does the healer charge? \n\nkramer: first visit? thirty-eight bucks. \n\ngeorge: oh, yeah? holistic.. that's what i need. that's the answer. \n\n[setting: healer's apartment] \n\ngeorge: so, how do you like the way i talked you into comin' down here? \n\njerry: don't flatter yourself, my friend. i'm here strictly for material, and i have a feeling this is a potential gold mine.. i still think you're nuts, though. \n\ngeorge: all i know is i've been going to doctors all my life. what has it gotten me? i'm thirty-three years old. i haven't outgrown the problems of puberty, i'm already facing the problems of old age. i completely skipped healthy adulthood. i went from having orgasms immediately to taking forever. you could do your taxes in the time it takes me to have an orgasm. i've never had a normal, medium orgasm. \n\njerry: (jokingly making fun of george) i've never had a really good pickle. \n\ngeorge: besides, what's it gonna cost me? thirty-eight bucks? \n\ntor: (to jerry) would you not put your foot on that please? \n\njerry: sorry. \n\ntor: what month were you born? \n\ngeorge: april. \n\ntor: you should have been born in august. your parents would have been well-advised to wait. \n\ngeorge: really? \n\ntor: do you use hot water in the shower? \n\ngeorge: yes. \n\ntor: stop using it. \n\ngeorge: ..okay. \n\nkramer: i'm off hot water. \n\ntor: kramer tells me that you are interested in an alternative to surgery. \n\ngeorge: yes, yes i am. \n\ntor: (blows into george's face) i think we can help you. see, unfortunately, the medical establishment is a business like any other business. and business needs customers. and, they want to sell you their most expensive item which is unnecessary surgery. \n\ngeorge: (still on the showers) can i use hot water on my face? \n\ntor: no. you know, i am not a business man. i'm a holistic healer. it's a calling, it's a gift. you see, it's in the best interest of the medical profession that you remain sick. you see, that insures good business. you're not a patient. you're a customer. \n\njerry: (he thinks this, the audience can hear his thoughts) and you're not a doctor, but you play one in real life. \n\ngeorge: (still on the hot water) what about shaving? \n\ntor: (to jerry) you're eating too much dairy. (to george) may i? (reaches over, and touches george's face) \n\ngeorge: i guess so. \n\ntor: (feeling george's face) you see, you are in disharmony. the throat is the gateway to the lung. tonsillitis, adenoiditis, is, in chinese medical terms, and invasion of heat and wind. \n\njerry: (again, we hear his thoughts) there's some hot air blowing in here.. \n\ntor: you know, i lived with the eskimos many years ago, and they used to plunge their faces into the snow. \n\ngeorge: (once again, still on the shower) could it be lukewarm? \n\njerry: too much dairy? you really think i'm eating too much dairy? \n\n[setting: doctor's car] \n\ndoctor: ..the tongue.. yes, the tongue.. or, in medical terms, the glossa. it's a muscular organ.. consists of two parts.. the body, and the root.. you see, it's covered by this mucous membrane.. these little raised projections are the papillae, which give it that furry appearance. very tactile.. \n\nelaine: uh-huh. \n\n[setting: healer's apartment] \n\ntor: (pouring tea) your tea is ready now. this will solve your so-called tonsil problem. it's a special concoction. it contains crampbark. \n\njerry: i love crampbark. \n\ntor: cleavers. \n\njerry: cleaver, i once had cleaver as a kid. i was able to lift a car. \n\ntor: and some couchgrass. \n\njerry: couchgrass and crampbark? you know, i think that's what killed curly. \n\nkramer: go ahead, drink it, george. \n\njerry: excuse me, tor. may i ask you a question? you have intuitive abilities. you're in touch with a lot of this cosmic kind of things.. i have this note i can't read. i was wondering if- \n\ntor: (takes the note, then laughs when he reads it) oh, yes.. yes.. \"cleveland 117, san antonio 109.. (hands note back to jerry) \n\nkramer: go ahead, drink it, george. \n\ngeorge: (takes a sip) hey, it's not too bad.. \n\n[setting: ambulance] \n\ngeorge: (in a state of hysteria) i'm an eggplant! i'm an eggplant! i'm a minstrel man! \n\ndriver: (to assistant) i didn't take your chuckle, man! \n\nassistant: i had five chuckles. i ate a green one, and the yellow one, and the red one is missing! \n\ndriver: i don't even like chuckles! \n\njerry: (to assistant) maybe he doesn't like them. that's possible. \n\ngeorge: my face! my face! get me to the hospital! \n\nassistant: i want that chuckle! you hear me?! \n\njerry: (to assistant) i'll get you a chuckle. you want me to get you a chuckle? \n\nassistant: (angry, to driver) pull over! \n\ndriver: pull over? did you say pull over?! you want a piece of me?! \n\nassistant: yeah! \n\njerry: you're gonna fight? \n\ngeorge: now?! i'm a mutant! \n\nkramer: (to driver) hey, let me drive. \n\nassistant: come on, man. pull over! \n\ndriver: alright! i'm gonna mess you up, man! \n\njerry: (pleading) really, gentlemen, please. \n\ngeorge: my heart! my heart! (to assistant) where you going? are you crazy?! \n\nassistant: i'm gonna kick his ass. \n\nkramer: (to assistant) hey, you have keys? \n\ngeorge: you can't leave! this is an ambulance! this is an emergency! \n\njerry: all this for a chuckle. \n\nkramer: what's a chuckle? \n\njerry: it's a jelly candy. it comes in five flavors. \n\n[setting: doctor's car] \n\ndoctor: you see, taste buds run on grooves along the surfaces. \n\nelaine: can you let go of my tongue now? \n\ndoctor: what? \n\nelaine: let go of my tongue! \n\ndoctor: (lets go) oh, sorry. \n\nelaine: well, i should get going.. (the doctor leans in for a kiss. elaine stops him) what are you doing? \n\ndoctor: i was going to kiss you good night. \n\nelaine: a kiss? with the tongue? the glossa with the bumps and the papillae? ..yech, i don't think so. (leaves) \n\n[setting: ambulance] \n\njerry: you just can't leave him out there. \n\ndriver: i told him i was gonna mess him up. \n\nkramer: well, can you call him an ambulance? \n\ndriver: i told him i didn't take his chuckle. i don't eat that gooey crap! \n\nkramer: hey, watch the road! watch the road, man! \n\ndriver: (turns back, facing kramer) hey, man, you want some of what he got?! \n\njerry and kramer: watch out! \n\n[setting: hospital room] \n\njerry: how ya doing? (george nods) can't talk? (george shakes his head. jerry gestures to his brace) hey, how'd you get the plastic one? (george raises his eyebrows) i like that. (george sticks his tongue out) so how's life without tonsils? (george quickly indicates with his arm that he wants ice cream) what? what's that? ..so, how much is this thing gonna cost you now? like, five, six thousand?.. (george signals that it's more) well, live and learn.. at least we lived. kramer went to eckman.. he feels better alreadyy.. (george motions for ice cream again) what are you doing? \n\nelaine: oh, poor george. oh, i'm sorry, but i can't stay long. i don't want to run into doctor tongue.. here, i brought you something. (takes out a pint of ice cream. george gets excited) oh, please, come on.. it was nothing. \n\njerry: hey, check the tv. \n\ntv voice: (germanic) it's just as you prophesied. the planets of our solar system, incinerating. like flaming globes, sigmond. like flaming globes. ah, ha, ha, ha.. \n\njerry: (pulls the note out of his pocket) that's it! that's it! flaming globes of sigmond! flaming globes of sigmond! that's my note! tha'ts what i thought was so funny?! ..that's not funny.. there's nothing funny about that. \n\nman in neighboring bed: shut up! \n\nman: aaahhhgggg! \n\n[setting: night club] \n\njerry: i have a friend who's a hypochondriac, always thinks he's sick - never is. and they, you have another type of person, always thinks they're well, not matter how bad they really are. you know this type of person? very annoying. \"feel great.. like being on the respirator.. intravenous heart/lung machine. i never felt better in my life.\" medical science is making advances every day in control health problems. in fact, it's probably only a matter of time before a heart attack, you know, becomes like, a head ache. we'll just see people on tv going, \"i had a heart attack this big (holds out hands, gesturing bigness) ..but, i gave myself one of these. clear! (puts imaginary electrode panels to his chest) brrhht.. and it's gone!\" \n\njerry: what are you doing? all right, all right. what's the matter with that? what about that one? \n\nelaine: robert vaughn, the helsinki formula? \n\njerry: he was good in man from uncle. \n\nelaine: guess whose birthday's comin' up soon? \n\njerry: i know, i'm having my root canal the same week. \n\nelaine: oh, right. i hope you have a good oral surgeon because that can be very serious. (changes channel) hey, look at naked people. \n\njerry: no, i don't wanna see the naked people. \n\nelaine: been a while? \n\njerry: i have a vague recollection of doing something with someone, but it was a long, long time ago. \n\nelaine: i think my last time was in rochester. my hair was a lot shorter. \n\njerry: i remember that it's a good thing. someday, i hope to do it again. (jerry looks at elaine) \n\nelaine: what? \n\njerry: what? \n\nelaine: what was that look? \n\njerry: what look? \n\nelaine: the look you just gave me. \n\njerry: i gave a look? \n\nelaine: yes. \n\njerry: what kind of look? \n\nelaine: i know that look. \n\njerry: then what was it? \n\nelaine: why should i tell you? \n\njerry: well, you're the big look expert. i wanna see how smart you are. \n\nelaine: trust me. i know the look. (pause) so... \n\njerry: what? \n\nelaine: what about the look? \n\njerry: i don't know. \n\nelaine: you got something on your mind? \n\njerry: no. things pop into your head. you? \n\nelaine: things occur to me from time to time. \n\njerry: yeah, me too. well, you can't expect to just forget the past completely. \n\nelaine: no, of course not. \n\njerry: i mean, it was something we did. probably about, what? twenty-five times? \n\nelaine: thirty-seven. \n\njerry: yeah, we pretty much know what we're doin' in there. (points to bedroom) \n\nelaine: we know the terrain. \n\njerry: no big surprises. \n\nelaine: nope. \n\njerry: what do you think? \n\nelaine: i don't know. what do you think? \n\njerry: well, it's something to consider. \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\njerry: i mean, let's say we did. \n\nelaine: what if. \n\njerry: is that like the end of the world or something? \n\nelaine: certainly not. \n\njerry: why shouldn't we be able to do that once in a while if we want to? \n\nelaine: i know. \n\njerry: i mean, really, what is the big deal? we go in there. (points to the bedroom) we're in there for a while. we come right back out here. it's not complicated. \n\nelaine: it's almost stupid if we didn't. \n\njerry: it's moronic. \n\nelaine: absurd! \n\njerry: of course, i guess, maybe, some little problems could arise. \n\nelaine: we, there are always a few. \n\njerry: i mean, if anything happened, and we couldn't be friends the way we are now, that would be really bad. \n\nelaine: devastating. \n\njerry: because this is very good. (points back and forth between them to indicate friendship) \n\nelaine: and that would be good. (points to bedroom) \n\njerry: that would be good too. the idea is combine the this and the that. but this cannot be disturbed. \n\nelaine: yeah, we just wanna take this and add that. \n\njerry: but of course, we'd have to figure out a way to avoid the things that cause the little problems. maybe some rules or something. \n\nelaine: huh. \n\njerry: for example, now, i call you whenever i'm inclined and vice versa. \n\nelaine: right. \n\njerry: but if we did that, we might feel a certain obligation to call. \n\nelaine: well why should that be? oh, i have an idea. i have an idea. no call the day after that. \n\njerry: beautiful. let's make it a rule. \n\nelaine: all right, sir. \n\njerry: now here's another little rule. \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\njerry: when we see each other now, we retire to our separate quarters. but sometimes, when people get involved with that, they feel pressure to sleep over. when that is not really sleep. sleep is separate from that. and i don't see why sleep got all tied up and connected with that. \n\nelaine: okay, okay. rule number two. spending the night is optional! \n\njerry: well now we're gettin' somewhere. \n\nelaine: what about the kiss goodnight? \n\njerry: tough one. you're call. \n\nelaine: it's brug-wa (?). \n\njerry: fine. well. \n\nelaine: well. \n\njerry: you ready? \n\nelaine: ready. \n\njerry: so think you can handle this? \n\nelaine: definitely. (runs into bookshelf) \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: got the paper? \n\njerry: not yet. \n\nkramer: no paper? \n\njerry: i haven't been out yet. \n\nkramer: well, what's taking you so long? (elaine enters from the bedroom. kramer is a little shocked) uh? oh, well, yeah... (he exits) \n\ngeorge: what's the deal with aquaman? could he go on land, or was he just restricted to water? \n\njerry: no, i think i saw him on land a couple times. so how's the job situation goin'? \n\ngeorge: still lookin'. it's pretty bad out there. what about you? \n\njerry: nothin' much. i slept with elaine last night. \n\ngeorge: oxygen! i need some oxygen! this is major. \n\njerry: i thought you'd like that. \n\ngeorge: oh, this is huge! \n\njerry: i know. \n\ngeorge: all right, okay. let's go, details. \n\njerry: no, i can't do details. \n\ngeorge: you wha? \n\njerry: i can't give details. \n\ngeorge: no details? \n\njerry: i'm not in the mood. \n\ngeorge: you ask me here to have lunch, tell me you slept with elaine, and then say you're not in the mood for details. now you listen to me. i want details and i want them right now. i don't have a job, i have no place to go. you're not in the mood? well you get in the mood! \n\njerry: all right, okay. we're in the apartment watching tv. \n\ngeorge: where are you sitting? \n\njerry: on the couch. \n\ngeorge: next to each other? \n\njerry: no, separated. \n\ngeorge: time? \n\njerry: around eleven. \n\ngeorge: okay, go ahead. \n\njerry: so she's flipping around the tv, and she gets to the naked station. \n\ngeorge: oh, see? that's why i don't have cable in my house. because of that naked station. if i had that in my house, i would never turn it off. i wouldn't sleep, i wouldn't eat. eventually, firemen would have to break through the door, they'd find me sitting there in my pajamas with drool coming down my face. all right, all right. so you're watching the naked station. \n\njerry: and then, somehow, we started talking about, what if we had sex. \n\ngeorge: boy, these are really bad details. \n\njerry: it pains me to say this, but i may be getting to mature for details. \n\ngeorge: oh i hate to hear this. that kind of growth really irritates me. \n\njerry: well. i'll tell you though. it was really passionate. \n\ngeorge: better than before? \n\njerry: she must've taken some kind of seminar or something. \n\ngeorge: this is all too much. so what are you feeling? what's going on? are you like a couple again now? \n\njerry: not exactly. \n\ngeorge: not exactly. what does that mean? \n\njerry: well, we've tried to arrange a situation where we'll be able to do this once in a while and still be friends. (george laughs hysterically and stands out of his seat) \n\ngeorge: where are you living? are you here? are you on this planet? it's impossible. it can't be done. \n\njerry: i think we've worked out a system. \n\ngeorge: oh, you know what you're like? you're like a pathetic gambler. you're one of those losers in las vegas who keeps thinking he's gonna come up with a way to win at blackjack. \n\njerry: no, this is very advanced. we've designed at set of rules that we can maintain the friendship by avoiding all of the relationship pitfalls. \n\ngeorge: sure, all right. tell me the rules. \n\njerry: okay. no calls the next day. \n\ngeorge: (to himself) so you're havin' the sex, next day you don't have to call. that's pretty good. (back to jerry) go ahead. \n\njerry: you ready for the second one? \n\ngeorge: i have tell you, i'm pretty impressed with the first one. \n\njerry: spending the night. optional. \n\ngeorge: no, you see? you got greedy. \n\njerry: no, that's the rule. it's optional. \n\ngeorge: i know less about women than anyone in the world. but one thing i do know is they're not happy if you don't spend the night. it could be a hot, sweaty room with no air conditioning and all they have is a little army cot this wide (displays with french fry) you're not going anywhere. \n\njerry: i think you're wrong. \n\ngeorge: i hope i am. \n\njerry: is this yours or the roommate's? \n\nelaine: the roommate's. \n\njerry: would she mind? \n\nelaine: she keeps track of everything. \n\njerry: well, that's too bad, 'cause i'm takin' it. \n\nelaine: thanks. \n\njerry: well, guess i'll get going. \n\nelaine: oh. \n\njerry: well, i got that root canal tomorrow morning. it'll be easier if i go home. \n\nelaine: fine, go away. \n\njerry: i don't understand. is there a problem? (elaine is pulling a roll of paper towels about twenty feet long) i'm getting the impression there's a problem. \n\nelaine: just go. \n\njerry: i'm having surgery tomorrow. \n\nelaine: oh, surgery. you're going to the dentist. \n\njerry: but you said, it can be very serious. \n\nelaine: okay, so fine. go. \n\njerry: what happened to the rules? remember? sleeping over was optional. \n\nelaine: yeah, it's my house, it's my option. \n\njerry: it has nothing to do with whose house it is. \n\nelaine: oh, of course it does. (elaine's roommate, tina, enters) \n\ntina: hi. \n\nelaine + jerry: hi. \n\ntina: hi, jerry. \n\njerry: hi. \n\ntina: such a great improv class tonight. \n\nelaine: oh really? \n\ntina: i had this improv where i pretended i was working in one of those booths. you know, in the amusement park, where you have to shoot the water in the clown's mouth and you have to blow up the balloon. \n\nelaine: uh, tina? could you excuse us for just one second? \n\ntina: oh, yeah. i'll excuse you. (she walks away) \n\nelaine: what are you doing? \n\njerry: i can't go if you're mad. \n\nelaine: i'm not mad. \n\njerry: you seemed a little mad. \n\nelaine: no, no. jerry, i'm fine really. it's okay. \n\njerry: so you're okay with everything? \n\nelaine: definitely. are you? \n\njerry: definitely. well, goodnight. \n\nelaine: goodn-- (he starts to kiss her) what're you doing? \n\njerry: what? \n\nelaine: rules. \n\ntina: hey, who took my cake? (jerry exits quickly) \n\ngeorge: what about jewelry? that's very nice gift. \n\njerry: no, no. i have to be very careful here. i don't want to send the wrong message. especially after the other night. \n\ngeorge: maybe i'll get her some jewelry. \n\njerry: no, no. you can't get her anything better than me. whatever i spend, you have to spend half. \n\ngeorge: what am i supposed to get, a bazooka? \n\njerry: you don't understand. i'm in a very delicate position. whatever i give her, she's going to be bringing in experts from all over the country to interpret the meaning behind it. \n\ngeorge: what does she need? maybe there's something that she needs. \n\njerry: i think i heard her say something about a bench. \n\ngeorge: a bench? what kind of a bench? \n\njerry: i don't know, but she mentioned a bench. \n\ngeorge: what, like at a bus stop? \n\njerry: i don't know. \n\ngeorge: like a park bench? \n\njerry: i have no idea. \n\ngeorge: who puts a bench in their house? \n\njerry: forget the bench. \n\ngeorge: i got it. you wanna get her something nice? how 'bout a music box? \n\njerry: no, too relationshippy. she opens it up, she hears that laura's theme, i'm dead. \n\ngeorge: okay, what about a nice frame? with a picture of another guy in it. frame says i care for you, but if you wanna get serious, perhaps you'd be interested in someone like this. \n\njerry: nice looking fellow. \n\ngeorge: what about candle holders? \n\njerry: too romantic. \n\ngeorge: lingerie? \n\njerry: too sexual. \n\ngeorge: waffle maker. \n\njerry: too domestic. \n\ngeorge: bust of nelson rockefeller. \n\njerry: too gubernatorial. (?) \n\ngeorge: let's work on the card. \n\njerry: maybe you won't like it. \n\nelaine: oh, how could i not like it? of course i'll like it. \n\njerry: you could not like it. \n\nelaine: just the fact that you remembered means everything. \n\njerry: of course i remembered. you reminded me everyday for two months. oh, the card. (she opens) \n\nelaine: cash? \n\njerry: would do you think? \n\nelaine: you got me cash? \n\njerry: well this way i figure you can go out and get yourself whatever you want. no good? \n\nelaine: who are you, my uncle? \n\njerry: well come on. that's $182 right there. i don't think that's anything to sneeze at. \n\nelaine: let me see the card. (reading) to a wonderful girl, a great pal, and more? (kramer enters) \n\nkramer: hey. oh, elaine. i'm glad you're here. stay right there. i'm gonna be right back. (he exits) \n\nelaine: pal? you think i'm your pal? \n\njerry: i said, \"and more.\" \n\nelaine: i am not your pal. \n\njerry: what's wrong with pal? why is everyone so down on pal? (kramer enters with present) \n\nelaine: oh, what is this? you got me something? \n\nkramer: yeah. open it. \n\nelaine: oh kramer... (she opens it) the bench! you got me the bench that i wanted! (jerry looks irritated) \n\nkramer: that's pretty good, huh? \n\njerry: great. \n\nkramer: remember when we were standing there and she mentioned it? i made a mental note of it. \n\njerry: well goody for you. \n\nkramer: oh yeah, i'm very sensitive about that. i mean, when someone's birthday comes up, i keep my ears open. so what'd you get her? \n\njerry: 182 bucks. \n\nkramer: cash? you gotta be kidding. what kind of gift is that? that's like something her uncle would get her. \n\nelaine: (reading card) think where man's glory most begins and ends and say my glory was i had such a friend. \n\nkramer: (to jerry) yates. \n\nelaine: oh kramer. (they embrace) \n\njerry: could you excuse us please? \n\nkramer: what? \n\njerry: we're talking. \n\nkramer: oh, the relationship. (he leaves) \n\njerry: you know, we never had one fight before this deal. \n\nelaine: i know. \n\njerry: never. \n\nelaine: ever. \n\njerry: we got along beautifully. \n\nelaine: like clams. \n\njerry: it was wonderful. \n\nelaine: a pleasure. \n\njerry: so i think we should just forget the whole deal, and go back to being friends. \n\nelaine: i can't do it. \n\njerry: you what? \n\nelaine: i can't do that. \n\njerry: you mean it's... (she nods) no this. no that. no this or that. oh, boy. hmmm. what do you want? \n\nelaine: this, that, and the other. \n\njerry: oh, sure. of course, you're entitled. who doesn't want this, that, and the other? \n\nelaine: you. \n\njerry: (starts to correct then realizes) well... \n\ngeorge: those birthdays. i told you. they're relationship killers. if a relationship is having any problems whatsoever, a birthday will always bring it out. \n\njerry: i never should have made up those rules. \n\ngeorge: what is it about sex that just disrupts everything? is it the touching? is it the nudity? \n\njerry: it can't be the nudity. i never got into these terrible fights and misunderstandings when i was changing before gym class. \n\ngeorge: you know what this means? i can't see her anymore either. \n\njerry: why? \n\ngeorge: it's break up by association. besides, she's mad at me anyway because of my birthday present. \n\njerry: what did you end up giving her? \n\ngeorge: 91 dollars. \n\njerry: sorry about that. \n\ngeorge: so what're you gonna do? \n\njerry: well, if i call her, there's no joking around anymore. this is pretty much it. \n\ngeorge: so, maybe this should be it. \n\njerry: could be it. \n\ngeorge: she seems like an it. \n\njerry: she's at it as you get. imagine bumping into her on the street in five years with a husband. and she tells me he's a sculptor, they live in vermont... \n\ngeorge: we'd have to kill him. \n\njerry: we'd get caught, i'd get the chair. \n\ngeorge: i'd go to prison as your accomplice. i'd have to wear that really heavy denim. go to the cafeteria line with the guy who slops those mashed potatoes onto your plate. go to the bathroom in front of hundreds of people. \n\njerry: plus, you know what else. \n\ngeorge: you better call her. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: you got the paper yet? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nkramer: well where is it? (elaine enters from bedroom with newspaper) hey, you done with that? \n\nelaine: no. \n\nkramer: well, you're not reading it now. \n\nelaine: all right, you can take it. but i want it back. \n\nkramer: oh yeah. so, ah, what're you guys gonna do today? \n\nelaine: ah, this. and that. \n\njerry: and the other. \n\nkramer: boy, i really liked the two of you much better when you weren't a couple. (he exits) \n\n[setting: night club] \n\njerry: men flip around the television more than women, i think. men get that remote control in their hands, they don't even know what the hell they're watching. you know, we just keep going, \"rerun, don't wanna watch it.. \" \"what are you watching?\" \"i don't care, i gotta keep going.\" \"who was that?\" \"i don't know what it was - doesn't matter, it's not your fault. it doesn't matter, i gotta keep going.\" women don't do this. see now, women will stop and go, \"well, let me see what the show is before i change the channel.\" you see? men just fly. because women, you see, women nest and men hunt. that's why we watch tv differently. before there was flipping around, before there was television, kings and emperors and pharaohs and such had story-tellers that would tell them stories 'cause that was their entertainment. i always wonder, in that era, if they would get, like, thirty story-tellers together so they could still flip around. just go, \"alright start telling me a story, what's happening? i don't want to hear anymore. shut up. go to the next guy. what are you talking about? is there a girl in that story? ..no? shut up. go to the next guy. what do you got? i don't want to hear that either. shut up. no, go ahead, what are you talking about?.. i don't want to hear that. no, the all of you, get out of here. i'm going to bed.\" \n\n[setting: coffee shop] \n\ngeorge: (shocked) she's pregnant? leslie is pregnant?! oh, see, there is no justice. \n\njerry: she's the performance artist, right? \n\ngeorge: (sarcastic) yeah, performance artist. she's a real performer. a real trooper. \n\njerry: what's her husband's name, again? chip? kip? skip? \n\nelaine: todd. \n\njerry: todd. oh yeah. (to george) he's a kennedy. \n\nelaine: no, he's not. \n\njerry: c'mon. he's a third cousin, or something. \n\nelaine: by marriage. \n\njerry: oh, by marriage. (to george) we went to their wedding. you should have heard him talking about chappaquiddick - trying to blame the whole thing on bad directions. \n\ngeorge: that woman was unequivocally the worst date of my life. \n\nelaine: oh, pardon me for trying to set you up with a beautiful, intelligent woman. \n\ngeorge: what, you don't think i can attract beautiful, intelligent women? \n\njerry: thin ice, george. thin ice.. \n\ngeorge: (sarcastic) maybe for her new performance piece she'll give birth on stage. \n\nelaine: she stopped performing. \n\ngeorge: (again, sarcastic) oh, what a huge blow to the culture. \n\njerry: (gesturing to george) you believe this guy? he holds a grudge like khomeini. \n\ngeorge: she dragged me down to that warehouse on the waterfront in brooklin to see one of her \"performances\". \n\njerry: oh, and she cooks dinner onstage for some celebrity? \n\ngeorge: god! she's cooking dinner for god! she's yelling and screaming, and the next thing i know, she throws a big can of chocolate syrup all over my new red shirt. \n\nelaine: it was an accident! \n\ngeorge: oh, yeah, sure, accident, right. she was aiming right at me like she was putting out a fire! then, for the rest of the show, i'm sitting there with chocolate all over my shirt. flies are landing on me. i'm boiling - i'm fantasizing all the things i'm gonna say when i see her. and later, finally, backstage when i talk to her, i'm a groveling worm. \"what kind of chocolate was that? do you throw any other foods?\" \n\njerry: (to elaine) he thought he still had a shot. \n\ngeorge: and then, then, then she leaves with somebody else! never even, never even said goodbye! never called me back.. never apologized. nothing. like i was dirt. \n\njerry: what ever happened with the shirt? \n\ngeorge: i still have it. the collar's okay. i wear it under sweaters. \n\nelaine: i don't know what i'm gonna do. she asked me to give her a baby shower. \n\njerry: asked you? you're not going to do that are you? \n\nelaine: anyone else, never. but, leslie - i have a problem saying no to. for some reason, i seem to want her approval. \n\ngeorge: let maria shriver give her a baby shower. \n\njerry: ask not what i can do for you - ask what you can do for me. \n\ngeorge: (germanic) ich bin ein sucker. \n\nelaine: oh, would you two stop with the kennedys? why does everybody make such a big deal about he kennedys? what is this fascination?! who cares?! it's all so boring.. \n\ngeorge: she doesn't deserve a baby shower. she deserves a baby monsoon. she deserves rosemary's baby! \n\nelaine: (to jerry) i do have one teeny little problem, though. \n\ngeorge: never said goodbye. never apologized. nothing. \n\nelaine: see, i was gonna give the shower in my apartment.. \n\njerry: but? \n\nelaine: my roommate has lyme disease. \n\njerry: lyme disease? i thought she had epstein-barr syndrome? \n\nelaine: she has this in addition to epstein-barr. it's like epstein-barr with a twist of lyme disease. \n\njerry: how did she get lyme disease? \n\nelaine: i don't know. she did some outdoor version of hair in danbury, connecticut. \n\njerry: they still do that play? \n\nelaine: it's a classic. \n\njerry: with all the nudity? \n\nelaine: i guess. she must've rolled over on a tick during the love-in. \n\ngeorge: (still mad a leslie) never said goodbye. goodbye! \n\njerry: explain to me how this baby shower thing works. \n\nelaine: what do you wanna know? \n\njerry: well, i mean, does it ever erupt into a drunken orgy of violence? \n\nelaine: rarely. \n\njerry: there's no hazing of the fetus, or anything, is there? \n\nelaine: no. \n\njerry: when is this suppose to be? \n\nelaine: saturday. \n\njerry: saturday?.. well, i have a show in buffalo on saturday. they're not gonna bust up my apartment, or anything, are they? \n\nelaine: i'll take full responsibility. you won't regret it. \n\njerry: 'cause i've seen these pregnant women - and they sometimes misjudge their fetal girth. just like one wrong turn, and boom! and entire buffet is swept off the table. \n\ngeorge: someday, before i die, mark my words - i'm gonna tell that woman exactly what i think of her. i'll never be able to forgive myself until i do. \n\njerry: and if you do? \n\ngeorge: i still won't be able to forgive myself - but at least it won't be about this. \n\n[setting: jerry's apartment] \n\nkramer: what are you doing this for? look at you.. \n\njerry: quiet. i'm trying to get a picture. \n\nkramer: but you don't have to do this! this guy is waiting in my house. \n\njerry: (pleading) leave me alone. \n\nkramer: it's a one-time fee. a hundred and fifty bucks. why live like this?! \n\njerry: i'm not getting illegal cable! \n\nkramer: oh, so what are you gonna do? you gonna wait for the cable companies to resolve their dispute? they're gonna be in court for years. \n\njerry: no, i read in the paper.. \n\nkramer: (sarcastic) oh, oh, the paper.. \n\njerry: well, they might hook us up again. \n\nkramer: oh, god, you're so naive! all the cable companies care about is the \"big mammoo.\" (jerry wacks the tv) oh, look at you! you're banging things.. pathetic. just wasting your life. i'm offering you fifty-six channels - movies, sports, nudity. and it's free! for life! \n\njerry: stop shouting! you're ruining the reception. \n\nkramer: can you hear yourself? can, can, do you know what you're saying?! \n\njerry: what you're suggesting is illegal. \n\nkramer: it's not illegal. \n\njerry: it's against the law. \n\nkramer: well, yeah. \n\njerry: (gesturing to the rabbit ears) just, just, hold this. can you hold that? \n\nkramer: (holding the rabbit ears) look, will you at least let me bring the guy over? he's an amazing man. he's a russian immigrant. he escaped the gulag. he's like the sakharov of cable guys.. he'll slow down your gas meter. he sells slugs, jerry. slugs for the subway. \n\njerry: a real human rights nut, huh? \n\nkramer: yeah. he's intense, man. \n\njerry: i don't know. what if i get caught? \n\nkramer: oh, you're not gonna get caught. look, let me get him. man, it's the nineties, it's hammer time! come on, just let me get him. \n\njerry: you know, why don't we wait? because, i'm going out of town tomarrow. \n\ntabachnick: tomarrow okay. \n\nkramer: no problem. yeah, you'll have the whole thing installed by the time you get back. \n\njerry: (mutters to himself) every time i turn on the tv, sirens are gonna go off. they're gonna track me down like a dog, i know it.. \n\nkramer: no, no, now look now, jerry, jerry, it's no risk. i swear. the mets have seventy-five games on cable this year.. \n\njerry: (pauses, thinking about what kramer just said) put it in. \n\nkramer: you won't regret it. (jerry mutters some more, kramer rubs his hands together in anticipation, then starts dancing around with a reluctant jerry) jerry's gonna be a cable boy, a cable boy, a cable boy.. \n\n[setting: jerry's apartment] \n\nman: mr. steinfeld? \n\njerry: seinfeld. \n\nman: we're with the fbi. you wanna tell us about your cable hook-up? \n\njerry: my cable hook-up? what about it? \n\nman: it's been illegally installed, mr. steinfeld. \n\njerry: it has? i've been out of town. how did you know? \n\nkramer: jerry, i had to tell them. i had to. i had no choice. they were onto the scam from the very beginning. \n\nman: you're in serious trouble, mr. steinfeld. \n\njerry: wait a minute. wait a minute, hold on! we're just patsies. we're just a couple of users.. we never sold the stuff. what about the russian guy? the russian guy is the guy you want. \n\ntabachnick: mr. seinfeld, agent stone. fbi. undercover. \n\nkramer: no! jerry! (the fbi agents open fire. jerry's gunned down by a hailstorm of bullets. kramer leans next to a fallen jerry, cupping jerry's head in his hands) cable boy, cable boy.. what have you done to my little cable boy?.. \n\n[setting: airplane] \n\njerry: excuse me. can i get something to drink? \n\nstewardess: i'm afraid not. \n\njerry: what's with this airline? what are you, cutting out the drinks now? \n\nstewardess: no sir. we're flying into a blizzard. please fasten your seat belt. we're making an emergency landing. \n\njerry: (sarcastic) are they gonna go over the instructions again? \n\nbill: my name is bill. i might be the last person you ever see. \n\n[setting: night club] \n\njerry: i'm not afraid of flying, although many people do have fear of flying and, i have no arguement with that. i think fear of flying is quite rational because, human beings cannot fly. humans have fear of flying same way fish have fear of driving. put a fish behind the wheel, and they go, \"this isn't right. i shouldn't be doing this. i don't belong here.\" \n\n[setting: george's car] \n\ngeorge: sounds like a rough trip. \n\njerry: oh, fire engines, ambulances all along the runway. and then, when we landed safely, they all seemed so disappointed. \n\ngeorge: so, the college cancelled the gig? \n\njerry: well, there was so much snow. the roads were closed. i really appreciate it - you picking me up. thanks again. \n\ngeorge: (modestly) forget it. \n\njerry: no, really.. an airport run. \n\ngeorge: it's nothing. \n\njerry: hey, it's one thing if i asked you \"could you do me a favor?\" ..but to suggest it?.. george (obviously up to something. jerry doesn't suspect anything - yet) whey you told me what you went through on the plane, it makes you stop and think. you appreciate having a real friend. \n\njerry: (joking) you know, if richie brandes did this, i'd be suspicious, you know. he's always got some ulterior motive. \n\ngeorge: (laughs nervously) ..ulterior motive. \n\njerry: oh, wait a minute. wait a minute. don't take the bridge.. get off here. we can't go back to my place, elaine's having the shower. \n\ngeorge: (obviously knows that, but pretends he doesn't) what, tonight? now? \n\njerry: yeah, yeah. i forgot all about it. alright, it's no big deal. we'll just go back to your place. \n\ngeorge: my place? no, no, no. i hate my place. i don't wanna go back to my place. \n\njerry: you want to get a bite? \n\ngeorge: yeah, i would. it's just, you know, i just ate a whole pot roast. \n\njerry: well, so what should we do? \n\ngeorge: shouldn't we at least drop off your bag? \n\njerry: red shirt! red shirt! that's the red shirt! \n\ngeorge: (nervous) what are you talking about? \n\njerry: you're wearing the chocolate shirt! \n\ngeorge: i am? what a strange coincidence.. \n\njerry: a - ha! nice try, my friend, but you gotta get up pretty early in the morning.. \n\ngeorge: (pleading) you gotta let me go over there. \n\njerry: what are you gonna do? badger a pregnant woman at her own baby shower?! what are you, gonna take it off and make her rinse it in club soda? \n\ngeorge: no, i'm gonna hold it under her nose so she can smell the scent of stale bosco that i had to live with for three years, and i'm gonna say, \"remember this shirt, baby?! well, now, it's payback time!\" \n\n[setting: jerry's apartment] \n\nleslie: we just bought an apartment on riverside drive. bernard goetz's mother used to live there. \n\nelaine: so, where's todd? \n\nleslie: up in hyannisport. \n\nelaine: oh my god, hyannisport? with the kennedys? who else is up there? is rose up there?! \n\nwoman: (to leslie) so, when's your due date? \n\nleslie: march twentieth, nine a.m. \n\nwoman: you know the time! \n\nleslie: i'm having a planned c-section. my therapist told me if i go through labor, i might get psychotic. \n\nelaine: leslie, leslie, whatever happened to sargent shriver? is he still with them? you don't hear much about him these days. is he out of the loop? \n\nleslie: (takes a bite of food) elaine, who catered this, sears? \n\nelaine: (whispering to kramer) what is this?! what are you doing here? \n\nkramer: we're putting in cable. \n\nelaine: the cable? no, no, no. i'm having a party here. you can't do this now! \n\nkramer: oh, we have to do this now. \n\nelaine: who's this guy? \n\nkramer: which one? \n\nelaine: both of the them. \n\nkramer: oh, they're soviet cable guys. \n\nelaine: okay.. does jerry know about this? \n\nkramer: oh yeah.. it's all authorized, yeah. \n\nelaine: you can't! you can't do this now! \n\nkramer: elaine, do you know how booked up this guy is? now, if i send him away now, it's gonna take jerry months to get him back.. he won't like that. \n\nelaine: alright. just do it fast and then get out. \n\nkramer: (snaps his fingers) anatoly! (the russians get to work on command. to elaine) look, it's gonna take a few minutes.. then, you and the gals can take a load off and watch something on lifetime. \n\n[setting: george's car] \n\njerry: and what if we go up there? what are you going to say to her? \n\ngeorge: (boiling) what am i going to say?! \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: what did you go out with me for?! just to dump chocolate on my shirt and then just dump me altogether?! i don't deserve that kind of treatment! what, you don't have the common courtesy to return my calls?! to apologize! you think i'm some sort of a loser, that likes to be abused and ignored?! who's shirt can be ruined without financial restitution?! some sort of a masochist who enjoys being humiliated? you think you can avoid me like i have some sort of disease?! you have the disease! you have the disease! you may be beautiful and rich and physically .. just .. unbelievable, but you sicken me! you disgust me! you and everyone like you! \n\njerry: you'll never say that to her face. \n\ngeorge: watch me. \n\n[setting: jerry's apartment] \n\nkramer: (flirting with a female guest) yeah, i eat the whole apple. the core, stem, seeds, everything. \n\nelaine: (to kramer) kramer, kramer, look at him. (gestures to tabachnick) look! he's eating all the food! \n\nkramer: yeah, yeah. well, you know, there are many differences between american and soviet cultures that you're not aware of. see, in russian, the cable guy, they got the whole run of the house. yeah, that's tradition. (turns back to the woman) did you ever eat the bark of a pineapple? \n\nelaine: kramer! \n\nkramer: (trying to break up the fight) uh.. excuse me.. \n\nelaine: what are you doing here? i thought you were out of town for the weekend. \n\njerry: the show was cancelled. there was a blizzard. \n\nelaine: i can't believe you told kramer it's okay to put the cable in during the shower! jerry, look,, look! they've eaten everything. \n\nleslie: jerry, what a surprise! i thought you sere out of town. \n\njerry: well, leslie, sometimes the road less travelled is less travelled for a reason. \n\nelaine: (speaking confidentially to george) george, don't even think about it! don't even dream about it! \n\ngeorge: (unconvincingly coy) about what? \n\ntabachnick: (sticks his head out the door) kramer, kramer, kramer.. \n\ngeorge: leslie. \n\nleslie: yeah? \n\ngeorge: george.. (she doesn't seem to recognize him) george costanza. \n\nleslie: hi. \n\ngeorge: (laughs) you, i guess, you don't remember me.. but we actually, kind of um.. went out.. a couple of years ago.. once.. remember? \n\nleslie: vaguely. \n\ngeorge: you took me to one of your shows.. \n\nleslie: and? \n\ngeorge: and, um, it was quite good. in fact, you even incorporated me into the show. i'm not actually a performer. although, my parents felt i had talent.. \n\nmary: jerry?! (a woman, angry at jerry, approaches him. jerry looks confused) remember me? \n\njerry: i'm sorry, i.. \n\nmary: (livid) mary contardi. no? doesn't ring a bell, jerry? we had a date, three years ago. you took me to one of your shows. \n\njerry: (stammering) oh, i, i, think i remember.. \n\nmary: told me you had a great time! said you'd call me the next day. \n\njerry: well, i'm sure i meant to call.. i probably just lost your.. \n\nmary: liar! liar! you were never going to call me! you thought you could waltz throught the rest of your life and never bump into me again! but you were wrong, jerry! you were wrong! what do you think, i'm some sort of poor, pathetic wretch?! \n\njerry: no, i don't think that.. \n\nmarry: some person who could be dismissed and ignored?! some insignificant piece of dust?! some person who doesn't deserve your respect and your attention?! you're the one that doesn't deserve my respect and my attention! you're the insignificant piece of dust! \n\ngeorge: actually, i never had any formal training. i guess i'd be better suited for improvs, or something.. \n\nleslie: thanks a lot! \n\nelaine: i'm sorry you have to go. \n\nwoman: yeah. i really have to be going. \n\njerry: alright, listen, i've changed my mind about this whole thing. i don't want cable. \n\nkramer: don't be a fool. \n\ntabachnick: you don't want? \n\njerry: no, i don't want. so, just tell me what i owe you for your trouble.. \n\ntabachnick: (confers with his assistant, then) four hundred dollars. \n\njerry: (to kramer) four hundred dollars?1 you told me one-fifty! \n\nleslie: i'm going.. obviously. \n\nelaine: oh, leslie, i am so sorry about everything that went on here tonight. you know, i had no idea.. \n\nleslie: elaine, you know, i was watching you tonight, and i realized something. you're just like you were in college. \n\nelaine: (not sure if it was an insult or a compliment) oh, thank you. (leslie leaves. then elaine wonders to herself) \"like you were in college\"? \n\nleslie: (comes back, and yells in the direction of the bedroom) come on! let's go! \n\ngeorge: (sheepishly to elaine) i'll be right back. (leaves) \n\njerry: (defiantly) i'm not paying four hundred dollars! i don't even want the thing. what are you going to do?! \n\n[setting: jerry's apartment] \n\ngeorge: every woman on the face of the earth has complete control of my life. and yet, i want them all.. is that irony? \n\nelaine: why can't i meet a kennedy? ..i saw john junior once downtown. i was on a bus. i hit the ding, but.. it didn't stop. \n\njerry: alright, i said i had a good time and i'd call, but who takes that literally? \n\nkramer: (pops his head into jerry's apartment) hey, come on over, dr. zhivago's on cable in five minutes.. i'm making popcorn! (leaves) \n\n[setting: night club] \n\njerry: what do you do at the end of a date when you know you don't want to see this person ever again, for the rest of your life? what do you say? what do you say? no matter what you say, it's a lie. \"i'll see you around. see you around. if you're around, and i'm around, i'll see you around that area. you'll be around other people. you won't be around me. but you will be around.\" \"take care now.\" did you ever say that to somebody? \"take care now. take care, now. because, i'm not going to be taking care of you. so, you should take care, now.\" \"take care. take care.\" what does this mean? \"take off!\" isn't that what you really want to say? \"take off now.\" \n\njerry: (a couple of days ago i used a public phone), go over time on the call, hang up the phone, walk away. you've had this happen? phone rings. it's the phone company... they want more money. don't you love this? and you got them right where you want them for the first time in your life. you're on the street, there's nothing they can do. i like to let it ring a few times, you know, let her sweat a little over there, then i just pick it up, \"yeah, operator... oh, i got the money... i got the money right here... d'you hear that? (taps on microphone) that's a quarter. yeah, you want that don't you?\" \n\nelaine: no, they've just got to get more cops on the force, it's as simple as that. \n\ngeorge: cops. i don't even care about cops. i wanna see more garbage men. it's much more important. all i wanna see are garbage trucks, garbage cans and garbage men. you're never gonna stop crime, we should at least be clean. \n\njerry: i tell you what they should do, they should combine the two jobs, make it one job, 'cop\\garbage man'. i always see cops walking around with nothing to do. grab a broom! start sweeping. you sweep sweep sweep... catch a criminal, get right back to sweeping. \n\nelaine: you should run for mayor. \n\njerry: ehh, nobody listens. \n\nelaine: where is someone? i'm starving. \n\ngeorge: i think this is him right here. \n\nelaine: is there a table ready? \n\nrestaurant manager (bruce): how many? \n\nelaine (to jerry): how many? \n\njerry (to george): is tatiana coming? \n\ngeorge: i don't know, i have to call her, tell her where we are. i'm very lucky she's even considering seeing me at all. \n\njerry: really? i thought things were going ok. \n\ngeorge: they were, it's kinda complicated. \n\njerry: well what is it? \n\nelaine: how many? \n\njerry: ah, alright, four. seinfeld. \n\nbruce: four. it'll be five, ten minutes. \n\ngeorge: what do you wanna do? \n\nelaine: let's go someplace else, i am too hungry. \n\njerry: we might as well just stay here, we haven't got that much time if we wanna make it to the movie. \n\ngeorge: i gotta call tatiana. where's the phone? \n\njerry (to elaine): tatiana... \n\ngeorge: excuse me, are you gonna be very long? \n\nbruce: lashbrook, 4! \n\njerry: so did i do a terrible thing? \n\nelaine: you mean lying to your uncle? \n\njerry: i couldn't have dinner with him. 'plan 9 from outer space', one night only, the big screen. my hands are tied! \n\ngeorge (to jerry): you know it's a public phone, you're not supposed to just chit-chat. \n\nelaine: jerry, get menus so when we sit down we can order right away. \n\njerry: can't look at a menu now, i gotta be at the table. \n\ngeorge: he knows i'm waiting. he sees me. he just doesn't wanna look. \n\nelaine: everything's gotta be just so with you, doesn't it? \n\njerry: hey, i offered you those cookies in my house. \n\nelaine: health cookies. i hate those little dustboard fructose things. \n\ngeorge: i just can't believe at the way people are. what is it with humanity? what kind of a world do we live in? \n\nelaine: what? \n\njerry: there's a woman over there that looks really familiar. dark hair, striped shirt? \n\nelaine: i've never seen her before. \n\njerry: i know this woman. this is gonna drive me crazy. \n\nman: oh, excuse me. \n\nelaine: i'm sorry. \n\nelaine: didja see that? those people, look, they're getting a table. \n\njerry: well maybe they were here from before. \n\nelaine: no no no, they weren't here before. \n\ngeorge (to guy): excuse me, are you going to be much longer? i have to make a very important call. \n\nelaine: find out what's going on! \n\njerry: excuse me, didn't those people just come in? i believe we were ahead of them. \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\nbruce: what's your name? \n\njerry: seinfeld. \n\nbruce: no, no, they were here before. keckitch(sp?), 2! \n\nelaine: did you ever notice how happy people are when they finally get a table? they think they're so special because they've been chosen. it's enough to make you sick. \n\njerry: boy, you are really hungry. \n\ngeorge (whistles to guy on phone): hey! \n\ngeorge: if anything happens here, can i count on you? \n\njerry: what? \n\ngeorge: if we decide to go at it. \n\njerry: yeah, i wanna get into a rumble... \n\ngeorge: i have to get in touch with tatiana! and look at his little outfit. it's all so coordinated, the way his socks matching to his shirt. i really hate this guy. \n\nelaine: i'm gonna faint... \n\njerry: george, who is that woman in the stripes? \n\ngeorge: i don't know her. \n\njerry: she looks so familiar. \n\nelaine: ya know, its not fair people are seated first come first served, it should be based on who's hungriest. i feel like just going over there and taking some food off somebody's plate. \n\njerry: i'll tell you what, there's 50 bucks in it for you if you do it. \n\nelaine: what do you mean? \n\njerry: you walk over that table, you pick up an eggroll, you don't say anything, you eat it, say 'thank you very much', wipe your mouth, walk away- i give you 50 bucks. \n\ngeorge: what are they gonna do? \n\njerry: they won't do anything; in fact, you'll be giving them a story to tell for the rest of their lives. \n\nelaine: 50 bucks, you'll give me 50 bucks? \n\njerry: 50 bucks. that table over there, the three couples. \n\nelaine: ok, i don't wanna go over there and do it, and then come back here and find out there was some little loophole, like i didn't put mustard on it or something... \n\njerry: no, no tricks. \n\nelaine: should i do it, george? \n\ngeorge: for 50 bucks? i'd put my face in the soup and blow. \n\nelaine: alright, alright. here, hold this. i'm doin' it. \n\nelaine (through her teeth): i know this sounds crazy, but the two men who are standing behind me are going to give me 50 bucks if i stand here and eat one of your eggrolls. \n\nelaine (through teeth): i'll give you 25 if you let me do it. \n\npeople at table: what? what is she talking about? what did she say? \n\njerry: what happened? \n\nelaine: did you see that? \n\ngeorge: what were you doing? \n\nelaine (laughing): i offered them 25, they had no idea... \n\njerry: george, the phone's free. \n\ngeorge: alleluia. \n\ngeorge: excuse me, i was waiting here. \n\nwoman at phone: where? i didn't see you. \n\ngeorge: i've been standing here for the last ten minutes! \n\nwoman: well i won't be long. \n\ngeorge: that's not the point. the point is i was here first. \n\nwoman: well if you were here first, you'd be holding the phone. \n\ngeorge (yelling at her): you know, we're living in a society! we're supposed to act in a civilized way. \n\ngeorge: does she care? no. does anyone ever display the slightest sensitivity over the problems of a fellow individual? no. no. a resounding no! \n\nguy: hey, sorry i took so long. \n\ngeorge: oh that's ok, really, don't worry about it. \n\nelaine: how do people fast? did ghandi get this crazy? i'm gonna walk around, see what dishes look good. \n\njerry: i told my uncle i had a stomach ache tonight. you think he bought that? \n\ngeorge: yeah, well, he probably bought it. \n\njerry: so what happened with tatiana? \n\ngeorge: i shouldn't even tell you this. \n\njerry: come on... \n\ngeorge: well, after dinner last week, she invites me back to her apartment. \n\njerry: i'm with you. \n\ngeorge: well, it's this little place with this little bathroom. it's like right there, you know, it's not even down a little hall or off in an alcove. you understand? there's no... buffer zone. so, we start to fool around, and it's the first time, and it's early in the going. and i begin to perceive this impending... intestinal requirement, whose needs are going to surpass by great lengths anything in the sexual realm. so i know i'm gonna have to stop. and as this is happening i'm thinking, even if i can somehow manage to momentarily... extricate myself from the proceedings and relieve this unstoppable force, i know that that bathroom is not gonna provide me with the privacy that i know i'm going to need... \n\njerry: this could only happen to you. \n\ngeorge: so i finally stop and say, \"tatiana, i hope you don't take this the wrong way, but i think it would be best if i left\". \n\njerry: you said this to her after. \n\ngeorge: no. during. \n\njerry: oh, boy. \n\ngeorge: yeah. \n\njerry: wow! so...? \n\ngeorge: so i'm dressing and she's staring up at me, struggling to compute this unprecedented turn of events. i don't know what to say to reassure this woman, and worst of all, i don't have the time to say it. the only excuse she might possibly have accepted is if i told her i am in reality batman, and i'm very sorry, i just saw the bat-signal. it took me 3 days of phone calls to get her to agree to see me again. now she's waiting for me to call her, and she's \n\nelaine: i hate this place. i don't know why we came here, i'm never coming back here again. \n\njerry (still trying to remember): who is that woman?! \n\nelaine: remember when you first went out to eat with your parents? remember, it was such a treat to go and they serve you this different food that you never saw before, and they put it in front of you, and it is such a delicious and exciting adventure? and now i just feel like a big sweaty hog waiting for them to fill up the trough. \n\ngeorge: she's off. (goes over to the now available public phone) \n\nelaine: jerry, talk to that guy again. \n\njerry: what am i gonna say? \n\nelaine: tell him we wanna catch a movie and that we're late. \n\nmr. cohen: hey, what stinks in here? \n\nbruce (laughing): mr. cohen! haven't seen you for a couple of weeks. \n\nmr. cohen: well, i've been looking for a better place. \n\nbruce: better place... want a table? \n\nmr. cohen: no, just bring me a plate and i'll eat here. \n\nbruce (laughing): give him a plate and you eat here... come on, i give you a table. \n\njerry: excuse me... we've been waiting here. now, i know we were ahead of that guy, he just came in. \n\nbruce: oh no, mr. cohen always here. \n\nelaine: he's always here? what does that mean? what does that mean? \n\nbruce: oh, mr. cohen, very nice man. he live on park avenue. \n\nelaine: where am i? is this a dream? what in god's name is going on here?! \n\ngeorge: she's not there. she left. she must've waited and left because those people wouldn't get off the phone. \n\njerry: didja leave a message? \n\ngeorge: yeah, i told her to call me here and to tell anyone who answers the phone to ask for a balding, stocky man with glasses. i better tell him i'm expecting a call. \n\nelaine: oh, jerry, here comes that woman... \n\njerry: where do i know her? \n\nlorraine: hello, jerry! \n\njerry: heeeeyyyy... how you doin'? \n\nlorraine: how is everything? \n\njerry: good, good, good... what's goin' on? \n\nlorraine: oh, working hard. and you? \n\njerry: oh, you know, working around, same stuff, doing... whatever. \n\nlorraine: you haven't been around in a while. \n\njerry: i know, i know... well, you know. \n\nlorraine: you should come by. \n\njerry: definitely. i plan to, i'm not just saying that. \n\nelaine: hi, i'm elaine. \n\nlorraine (shaking her hand): lorraine. catalano. \n\njerry: i'm sorry, lorraine, this is elaine... \n\nlorraine: well it was nice seeing you, jerry. and nice meeting you. (she leaves) \n\nelaine (smug): oh, nice to meet you too, lorraine! \n\njerry: oh my god, lorraine... that's lorraine from my uncle's office. i'm in big, big trouble. \n\nelaine: the one you broke the plans with tonight? \n\njerry: yeah, she works in his office. now she's gonna see him tomorrow and tell him she saw me here tonight. he's gonna tell his wife, his wife's gonna call my mother. oh, this is bad, you don't know, the chain reaction of calls this is gonna set off. new york, long island, florida, it's like the bermuda triangle. unfortunately, nobody ever disappears. my uncle to my aunt, my aunt to my mother, my mother to my uncle... \n\njerry: ...my uncle to my cousin, my cousin to my sister, my sister to me. \n\nelaine: you should've just had dinner with your uncle tonight and gotten in over with. it's just a movie. \n\njerry: just a movie?! you don't understand. this isn't 'plans 1 through 8 from outer space', this is 'plan 9', this is the one that worked. the worst movie ever made! \n\njerry: hey, i got news for you, if we're making this movie, we gotta get a table immediately. \n\nelaine: alright, ok. let's stop fooling around. let's just slip him some money. \n\njerry: in a chinese restaurant? do they take money? \n\nelaine: do they take money? everyone takes money. i used to go out with a guy who did it all the time, you just slip him 20 bucks. \n\ngeorge: 20 bucks? isn't that excessive? \n\nelaine: well what do you want to give him, change? \n\ngeorge: it's more than the meal! \n\njerry: oh, come on, we'll divide it up three ways. \n\ngeorge: alright. 7,7, (points at himself) 6. i'm not gonna eat that much! \n\njerry: i'm counting your shrimps. ok, who's gonna do it? \n\ngeorge: oh no, i can't do it. i-i'm not good at these things, i get flustered. once i tried to bribe an usher at the roller derby, i almost got arrested. \n\nelaine: i guess it's you, jer. \n\njerry: me? what about you? \n\nelaine: oh, i can't do that, it's a guy thing. \n\njerry: the woman's movement just can't seem to make any progress in the world of bribery, can they? \n\nelaine: give me the money. \n\nelaine: how's it going'? \n\nbruce: very busy. \n\nelaine: boy, we are really anxious to sit down. \n\nbruce: very good specials tonight. \n\nelaine: if there's anything you can do to get us a table we'd really appreciate it. \n\nbruce: what is your name? (he turns the page over the money) \n\nelaine: no no, i want to eat now! (she gets the money from under the page) \n\nbruce: yes, we have sea-bass dinner tonight, very fresh. \n\nelaine (gives him the money): here, take this. i'm starving. take it! take it! \n\nbruce: dennison, 4! (goes over to 4 ladies) your table is ready. \n\nelaine: no no, no, i want that table. i want that table! oh, come on, did you see that? what was that? he took the money, he didn't give us a table. \n\njerry: you lost the 20. \n\nelaine: well, how could he do that? \n\ngeorge: you didn't make it clear. \n\nelaine: make it clear? \n\njerry: what a sorry exhibition that was. alright, let me get the money back. \n\nbruce: your name? \n\njerry: seinfeld. \n\nbruce: yeah, seinfeld 4! \n\njerry: no no no, you see the girl there, with the long hair? \n\nbruce: oh yes, yes. very beautiful girl, very beautiful. is your girlfriend? \n\njerry: well, actually, we did date for a while, but... it's really not relevant here. \n\nbruce: relationships are difficult. it's very hard to stay together- \n\njerry: alright, listen, alright. how much longer is it gonna be? \n\nbruce: oh. in about five, ten minutes. \n\ngeorge: so? \n\njerry: there seems to be a bit of a discrepancy. \n\nelaine: so when are we gonna eat? \n\njerry: five, ten minutes. \n\ngeorge: we should have left earlier. i told you. \n\njerry: i don't see any way we can eat and make this movie. \n\nelaine: oh, well i have to eat. \n\njerry: well let's just order to go, we'll eat it in the cab. \n\nelaine: eat it in the cab? chinese food in a cab? \n\njerry: we'll eat it in the movie. \n\nelaine: oh, who do you think you're going? do you think that they have big picnic tables there? \n\njerry: well what do you suggest? \n\nelaine: i say we leave now, we go to 'skyburger' and we scarf 'em down. \n\njerry: i'm not going to 'skyburger'. besides, it's in the opposite direction, let's just eat popcorn or something. \n\nbruce (holding a phone): cartwright? \n\nelaine: i can't have popcorn for dinner! \n\nbruce: cartwright? \n\nelaine (tries to snatch food off a waiter's tray): i have to eat! \n\njerry: so they have hotdogs there. \n\nelaine: oh, movie hotdogs! i rather lick the food off the floor. \n\ngeorge: i can't go anywhere, i have to wait here for tatiana's call. let me just check. \n\ngeorge: excuse me, i'm expecting a call. costanza? \n\nbruce: yeah, i just got a call. i yell 'cartwright! cartwright!', just like that. nobody came up, i hang up. \n\ngeorge: well, was it for costanza or... \n\nbruce: yes, yes, that's it. nobody answered. \n\ngeorge: well was it a woman? \n\nbruce: yeah, yeah. i tell her you not here, she said curse word, i hang up. \n\ngeorge: she called. he yelled cartwright. i missed her. \n\njerry: who's cartwright? \n\ngeorge: i'm cartwright! \n\njerry: you're not cartwri- \n\ngeorge: of course i'm not cartwright! look, why don't you two just go to the movies all by yourselves, i'm not in the mood. \n\nelaine: well me neither, i'm goin' to 'skyburger'. \n\njerry: so you're not going? \n\nelaine: you don't need us. \n\njerry: well i can't go to a bad movie by myself. who am i gonna make sarcastic remarks to, strangers? eh, i guess i'll just go to my uncle's. \n\ngeorge: should we tell him we're leaving? \n\nelaine: what for? let's just get out of here. \n\nbruce: seinfeld, 4? \n\njerry: hunger will make people do amazing things. i mean, the proof of that is cannibalism. cannibalism, what do they say, i mean, they're eating and, you know, \"this is good, who is this? i like this person\". you know, i mean, i would think the hardest thing about being a cannibal is trying to get some very deep sleep, you know what i mean? i would think, you'd be like, (pretending to wake up) \"who is that? who's there? who's there? is somebody there? what do you want? what do you want? you look hungry, are you hungry? get out of here!\" \n\n[setting: night club] \n\njerry: i'm not a foodie. i don't, \"oh, this is too rare. oh, it's too salty.\" just eat it and shut up. i'll eat anywhere, whatever they're having. i have eaten rotten rolls off of room service trays in hotel hallways. i have. it's not a joke. this is my life. i don't know, somebody left it. why would someone poison a roll, and leave it in a hallway for some comic coming down at two o' clock in the morning? why would they do that? sometimes you go to a nice restaurant, they put the check in a little book. what is this? the story of the bill? \"once upon a time, there were some very hungry people..\" what is this? a little gold tassle hanging down? am i graduating from the restaurant? what is this about? \n\n[setting: a restaurant] \n\nelaine: do you want some of mine? \n\njerry: take some of mine. \n\ngeorge: why do i get pesto? why do i think i'll like it? i keep trying to like it, like i have to like it. \n\njerry: who said you have to like it? \n\ngeorge: everybody likes pesto. you walk into a restaurant, that's all you hear - pesto, pesto, pesto. \n\njerry: i don't like pesto. \n\ngeorge: where was pesto 10 years ago? \n\njerry: (gesturing to a man) look at that guy. (elaine starts to look, but jerry stops her) i'll bet you he's gettin' hair transplants. any time you see a guy that age wearing a baseball cap, ten to one - plugs. \n\nelaine: (elaine turns to look at the man, trying to make it sound like they aren't talking about him) the thing about that painting.. is with the colors and um.. (turns back to jerry) oh yeah, plugola. \n\njerry: (to elaine) oh, one more thing about the car. let it warm up for a minute. \n\ngeorge: that's a tough minute. it's like waiting in the shower for the conditioner to work. \n\njerry: i don't understand why he couldn't take a cab. \n\ngeorge: who? \n\njerry: elaine is having a \"houseguest.\" she's picking him up at the airport tonight. \n\ngeorge: a guy? \n\nelaine: (slightly embarrassed) yes, a guy. \n\njerry: he's from a.. yakima, right? \n\nelaine: seattle. \n\njerry: everybody's moving to seattle. \n\ngeorge: it's the pesto of cities. so..? \n\nelaine: (to jerry) you tell him. \n\njerry: well, from what i can piece together, our friend here met a gentleman. \n\nelaine: ed. \n\njerry: who was in town on a business venture, and um.. \n\nelaine: ..we shared an interpersonal experience. (george hits his glass with his fork. to jerry) go on. \n\njerry: so they went out a few times, but apparently, when the fellow returned home, he discovered that the benes tattoo does not wash off so easily. \n\nelaine: on some people. \n\ngeorge: oooh. \n\njerry: so, he's coming in to stay with her for a week. \n\nelaine: it was just gonna be a weekend, but then somehow it became a week. \n\nmanager: what happened? \n\ngeorge: oh, the busboy left the menu a little close to the candle. \n\nmanager: sorry to the disturbance. \n\nelaine: (joking, she snobbishly says) i'm never eating here again. \n\njerry: (pats george on the back) nice going. thank you, that ought to get us a free dessert.. (they can see the manager chewing the busboy out from the dining room doorway) i think the busboy's in trouble. \n\ngeorge: did i get him in trouble? because of what i said?! i just told him what happened.. he didn't do it on purpose.. (mangager and busboy are arguing. the busboy points in the direction of george) he pointed at me. why did he point at me?! \n\nelaine: i said i would never eat here again.. but, i, i.. he had to know i was kidding. \n\njerry: (casually buttering a roll, like he's the innocent one) i didn't say anything. \n\ngeorge: i can't believe it. he's going! he's fired! \n\nelaine: oh, i said it in a kidding way. \n\ngeorge: i didn't know he'd get fired. \n\njerry: (jokingly trying to put more pressure on elaine and george) he'll probably kill his family over this. \n\ngeorge: what if he's waiting for me outside? he pointed at me! did you see him point?! \n\njerry: (again, joking) a lot of ex-cons become busboys. they seem to gravitate twards 'em. \n\ngeorge: was it my fault? \n\nelaine: was it my fault? \n\njerry: (doesn't have a care in the world) ..maybe i'll try that pesto. \n\n[setting: jerry's apartment] \n\njerry: look, i feel bad for him too, but he'll get another job. i mean, let's face it, it's not a profession where you embellish your resume and undergo a series of grueling interviews. \n\ngeorge: (eating a sandwich) oh, like you really know busboys. \n\njerry: oh, like you do. \n\ngeorge: hey, at least i was a camp waiter. \n\njerry: (scoffing) camp. \n\ngeorge: it was a fat camp. those kids depended on me. \n\njerry: elaine? \n\nelaine: (through intercom) yeah. \n\njerry: busboys are always changing jobs. that's the business. i know. i work with these guys. i tallk to them in the kitchen at the comedy clubs. \n\ngeorge: then why don't you try and get him another job? \n\njerry: i'd love to, but i don't know anything about him. he could be one of those people that walks around the street pricking people with pins. \n\nelaine: i don't know if you people are aware of this, but i am one clever chickadee. \n\ngeorge: what? did you get the busboy's number? \n\nelaine: his phone's been disconnected, but i was able to obtain an address - 1324 amsterdam avenue, apartment 4d. (hands george a card) now, i did my job. (to jerry) may i have the car keys, please? \n\ngeorge: how did you get all this? \n\nelaine: does the word \"charm\" mean anything to you? \n\njerry: no. (george grabs his jacket) so now you're going to his apartment? i really think this is nuts. \n\ngeorge: (putting his jacket on) i'd like to apologize. i want to tell him i.. i.. didn't mean to get him in trouble. \n\njerry: you, you're going now? \n\ngeorge: yeah, i want to see if there's anything i can do.. maybe get him another job.. maybe i'll hear of something. \n\njerry: maybe the fat camp. (to elaine) you're not going? \n\nelaine: i would, but i have to pick up ed at the airport. \n\njerry: i just don't think you should go alone. can't you wait till after my set? \n\ngeorge: it'll take to long. \n\njerry: take the k-man. a little support.. \n\ngeorge: (unsure) i don't a.. \n\nkramer: take me where? where? \n\n[setting: an apartment building hallway] \n\ngeorge: look, i really appreciate your coming, but if you wouldn't mind - try not to say too much. \n\nkramer: what am i gonna say? \n\ngeorge: i don't know. \n\nkramer: well, i'm not an idiot. \n\ngeorge: certainly not. \n\nkramer: then we're cool. \n\ngeorge: yeah.. yeah, we're - we're cool. (knocks lightly. kramer takes charge by knocking on the door louder. the busboy answers) uh, i'm sorry to bother you, i was in the restaurant earlier and i was wondering if i could talk to you for a few minutes about what happened. (he gestures for them to come in. they obey) i hope i'm not interrupting anything. it's just that i think i may have - without realizing it - been responsible for getting you fired. (nervously laughs) and.. and.. and i just want you to know that i didn't intend for that to happen. \n\nkramer: (patting george on the shoulder) he's a hell of a guy. \n\ngeorge: this is a guy i know.. kramer. \n\nkramer: habla espanol? \n\ngeorge: (to himself) oh my god. \n\nantonio: si. \n\nkramer: como se dice.. waterbed? \n\ngeorge: (interrupting) anyway, i just wanted to let you know i'm really sorry that happened, and if i can help out in any way, i'll certainly be glad to do that. (pause) well, i guess that's about it. \n\nkramer: you got anything to drink? agua? \n\ngeorge: oy uy uy.. (antonio points to the sink) we really should get going. \n\nkramer: let me get a glass of water. (heads tward the sink) \n\ngeorge: hurry up. \n\nantonio: (notices that his cat is missing) pequita? pequita? (starts to panic) \n\nkramer: his cat's gone. \n\nantonio: (notes the door was left wide open) la puerta esta abierta. (starts screaming) la puerta esta abierta! (to kramer and george) who left the door open? (silence) who left the door open?! (kramer and george look at eachother) come on, come on! help me look! (all three head out the door to look) \n\n[setting: antonio's apartment] \n\nkramer: ..you know, cats run away all the time. you know, my aunt, she had a cat. ran away. showed up three years later.. you never know. they got things in \n\ngeorge: (gestures for kramer to shut up) once again, antonio, i can't even begin to say how deeply, deeply sorry i am about everything. the job, the cat.. (a lamp breaks) the lamp. \n\nkramer: the wire was sticking out.. (fits the two broken pieces together) yeah. \n\ngeorge: (hands antonio a card) here's my card. i'm in real estate, so, if you're ever looking for something bigger, something nicer.. (antonio is staring at him, angered) ..maybe not right now. anyway.. (extends his hand for a handshake. antonio doesn't move) \n\nkramer: you oughta get that wire fixed. (they go to leave) i got the door. (shuts the door, the broken lamp falls to the floor) \n\n[setting: jerry's apartment] \n\njerry: (on the phone) george, stop worrying about this guy. it wasn't your fault.. come on, he's not stalking you. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: (to kramer) hey. (to george) he doesn't even know where you live.. who told you to give him your business card?.. (intercom buzzes) that's elaine. (kramer buzzes her in. jerry talks into the phone) kramer.. (to kramer) george wants to know when you want to look for the cat again. \n\nkramer: it's been a week. it's up to the cat now. \n\njerry: (into phone) kramer says it's up to the cat now. (to kramer) it'll be on your conscience. \n\nkramer: oh? how do you figure? \n\njerry: (into phone) how do you figure? (to kramer) 'cause you're the one who left the door open. \n\nkramer: why was i in charge of closing the door? \n\njerry: (into phone) why was he in charge of closing the door? (irritated at the phone message relay, to kramer) 'cause you came in after him! \n\nkramer: so! \n\njerry: (into phone) so! (to kramer - getting even more angry) so, the last person in should close the door! \n\nkramer: let me talk to him. \n\njerry: (to kramer) talk - call him from your house. (elaine enters. kramer leaves. to phone) he's calling you now.. okay. (hangs up) \n\nelaine: ed's downstairs. can i have the car keys? \n\njerry: no hello? \n\nelaine: got any asprin? (finds some) hello. now, lookit, you guarantee this car will get me to the airport tomarrow? no problems? \n\njerry: guarantee? ..hey, it's a car. \n\nelaine: because if there's even the slightest chance of any problem at all, i don't want to take it - because if i don't get this guy on a plane to seattle and out of my life, i'm gonna kill him, and everyone who tries to stop me. \n\njerry: (jokingly asking) so, did you have a nice week together? \n\nelaine: i heard a little ping in the car last time. what was that ping? \n\njerry: there's no ping. why are you so wacky? \n\nelaine: jerry, you cannot imagine how much i hate this guy.. and he hasn't even done anything! it's the situation. he's a wonderful guy, but i hate his guts! \n\njerry: so, you two been, uh.. \n\nelaien: no! i told him i've been having my period for the last five days! i'm sleeping all squished over on the edge of my bed.. but, i've only got fourteen hours to go. nothing can go wrong now. i think i've taken care of everything. i've confirmed the plane reservation. i've checked the weather.. \n\njerry: what's your airport route? \n\nelaine: i've got it all mapped out - i'm taking the tunnel. \n\njerry: ..what about the van wyck? \n\nelaine: i spoke to a cab driver. for five bucks, he turned me on to the rockaway boulevard shortcut. \n\njerry: oooh. \n\nelaine: now, lookit, this plane leaves at 1015. we're getting up at about eight. that gives us enough time, right? \n\njerry: you still using that old alarm clock? \n\nelaien: oh, no, no. i bought a new one today. it's got everything - it's got everything... if you oversleep more than ten minutes, a hand comes out and slaps you in the face. \n\n[setting: night club] \n\njerry: flying doesn't make me nervous - driving to the airport can make you very nervous because when you're flying, when you're getting on the plane, if you miss that plane, there's no alternative. on the ground, you have options. you have buses, you have taxis, you have trains. but, when you're taking a flight, if you miss it, that's it. no airline goes, \"well, you missed the flight, we do have a cannon leaving in about ten minutes. would you be interested in that? it's not a direct cannon, you have to change cannons after you land.\" (imitates cannon operator) \"i'm sorry, where you goin'? chicago? (cranks the cannon) oh, dallas? alright, wait a second.. (cranks cannon to dallas) dallas. that's about dallas. texas, anyway. you should hit texas. are you ready? make sure you get out of the net immediately, because we shoot the luggage in right after you.\" \n\n[setting: elaine's apartment] \n\n(elaine and ed are in bed. elaine awakes to find out that it's 9: 15 - they overslept. she gets frantic) \n\nelaine: (trying to wake ed up) get up! the alarm clock didn't go off! (shakes him) it's 915! you're gonna miss the plane! it's 915! \n\ned: 915? \n\nelaine: yes! 915! \n\ned: (going back to sleep) we'll never make it. i'll leave tomarrow. \n\nelaine: tomarrow?! are you crazy? no, now, now! let's go! (gets his suitcase from the closet, throws it on the bed, and frantically starts packing) you get dressed! get dressed! \n\ned: can i shower? \n\nelaine: shower?! are you out of your mind?! \n\ned: i gotta shower. i'll feel dirty all day. \n\nelaine: forget the shower! the shower's out. move it! put your clothes on! put your clothes on! (pulls out drawers of clothes, turning them over in the suitcase. he walks tward the door) where are you going? \n\ned: the kitchen. \n\nelaine: the kitchen?! \n\ned: i've got a bag of cashews in there. \n\nelaine: they're not making it! let's get your pants on! \n\ned: what's the big deal if we don't make it? i'll just go tomarrow or the next day. \n\nelaine: no! you have your ticket! you have to go now! \n\ned: i'll never make it. \n\nelaine: don't say that! \n\ned: but it takes forty-five minutes to get there. that'll only leave me five minutes to get to the plane. \n\nelaine: shut up and pack! \n\ned: and what if i don't make the plane? you'll have already left. then what will i do? \n\nelaine: you're talking too much! \n\ned: where's my sweater? \n\nelaine: what?! \n\ned: my brown sweater. \n\nelaine: what? what sweater? \n\ned: my brown sweater. \n\nelaine: you didn't bring a brown sweater. \n\ned: i brought a brown sweater. \n\nelaine: here! here! you want a brown sweater?! (recahes into one of her drawers, and grabs a brown sweater, then packs it) you got a brown sweater! \n\ned: that's not mine. i can't take your sweater. \n\nelaine: it's brown! (takes clothes still on the hangers, and dumps them into the suitcase) \n\ned: what are you doing?! \n\nelaine: no time for folding.. (looks around) i think that's it. (zips up the suitcase) \n\ned: my shoes. you packed my shoes. \n\nelaine: shoes? shoes?! shoes?! shoes weren't invented till the fourth century! people walked around for thousands of years without them! (puts her coat on over her nightie. he picks up his suitcase, she grabs it from him, then pushes him out of her way) i got this. let's go! \n\n[setting: jerry's apartment] \n\njerry: anywhere in the city? \n\ngeorge: anywhere in the city - i'll tell you the best public toilet. \n\njerry: okay.. fifty-fourth and sixth? \n\ngeorge: sperry rand building. 14th floor, morgan apparel. mention my name - she'll give you the key. \n\njerry: alright.. sixty-fifth and tenth. \n\ngeorge: (scoffs) are you kidding? lincoln center. alice tully hall, the met. magnificent facilities. \n\nelaine: (slow, as if remember a dream) i never new i could drive like that. i was going faster than i've ever gone before, and yet, it all seemed to be happening in slow motion. i was seeing three and four moves ahead, weaving in and out of lanes like an olympic skier on a gold metal run. i knew i was challenging the very laws of physics. at queens boulevard, i took the shoulder. at jewel avenue, i used the median. i had it. i was there.. and then.. i hit the van wyck. they say no one's ever beaten the van wyck, but gentlemen, i tell you this - i came as close as anyone ever has. and if it hadn't been for that five-car-pile-up on rockaway boulevard, that numbskull would be on a plane for seattle right now instead of looking for a parking space downstairs. \n\nkramer: ..the busboy's coming! the busboy's coming! \n\ngeorge: the busboy's coming? \n\njerry: you don't mean here? \n\nkramer: yeah. i just buzzed him in. he's on his way up.. \n\ngeorge: he's coming up?! (moves to the door) i'll check you out later. \n\njerry: where are you going? \n\ngeorge: i'm the one he wants! he's coming to settle the score. \n\njerry: (trying to get george and kramer out) no. you three all know each other. there's no point in me getting involved at this stage of the game. \n\nkramer: no, he's not going to do anything. i guarantee it. \n\ngeorge: oh, the hell with it. let him kill me. i.. \n\nkramer: antonio. in here! \n\ngeorge: (nervous, his voice cracks) hey, antonio. how's it going? \n\nantonio: three nights ago, a gas main beneath the restaurant exploded, killing five people in my section, including the busboy who replaced me. if i am not fired that night because of you and your thoughtless, stupid, insensitive remarks, it would have been me. you saved my life. (hugs him again) \n\ngeorge: (trying to be modest) ah, come on.. \n\nelaine: (into the intercom) yeah? \n\ned: it's eddie. \n\nelaine: he's coming up. (buzzes him in) he's coming up.. \n\nantonio: and that very same night of the accident, while looking for pequita, i found a job in a restaurant where they pay me almost twice what i was making before - and when i returned to the apartment, pequita, perhaps frightened from the explosion, had miraculously returned. well, but now, i must go, for today i am starting my new and wonderful job. and i am very late. thank you, thank you, thank you all. (leaves) \n\ned: hey, watch were you're going. you almost knocked my head off! \n\nantonio: hey, why don't you watch where you're going, okay? 'cause you bumped into me! \n\ned: who do you think you're talking to, pal? \n\nantonio: hey, get your hands off me! \n\ned: go to hell! \n\n[setting: coffee shop] \n\njerry: he'll get another job. he's a busboy! \n\ngeorge: it won't for a while. at least not until after the cast comes off. \n\njerry: it was that fall down the stairs. that's what did it. \n\ngeorge: that's not how it happened. it's when he fell on him with his knee. \n\nelaine: oh, that was awful. poor antonio. (waiter hands elaine two bags of food to go) ..thanks. \n\ngeorge: so, much longer? \n\nelaine: till when - till he goes back to seattle, or till he can feed himself? \n\ngeorge: (not wanting to make elaine mad) i guess it's not important. \n\nelaine: take care of yourselves. (leaves) \n\ngeorge: i should probably get going too. if i don't feed pequita by seven, she goes all over everything.. take it easy. \n\njerry: yeah.. (takes a bite of his sandwich as the waiter starts cleaning off the table) how ya doing? \n\n[setting: night club] \n\njerry: first of all, i can't believe that people actually do fight. people have fist fights in life. i can't really believe that we have boxing either. it's really kind of an amazing thing. to me, the problem with boxing is - you have two guys having a fight that have no prior argument. why don't they have the boxers come into the ring in little cars, drive around a bit, have a little accident? they get out, \"didn't you see my signal?\" \"look at that fender!\" ..then you'd see a real fight. \n\njerry: evry-every time somebody recommends a doctor, he's always the best. \"oh, is he good?\" \"oh, he's the best. this guy's the best.\" they can't all be the best. there can't be this many bests. someone's graduating at the bottom of these classes, where are these doctors? is somewhere, someone saying to their friend, \"you should see my doctor, he's the worst. oh yeah, he's the worst, he's the absolute worst there is. whatever you've got, it'll be worse after you see him. no, he's just, he's a butcher. the man's a butcher.\" and then there's always that, \"make sure that you tell him that, you know, you know me.\" why? what's the difference? he's a doctor. what is it, \"oh, you know bob! okay, i'll give you the real medicine. and everybody else, i'm giving tic-tacs.\" \n\njulianna: ...and usually for lunch i'll have a salad, and for dinner, i eat whatever i want. \n\njerry: what do you think the worst part of being blind is? \n\njulianna: excuse me? \n\njerry: you know, if you were blind, what do you think the worst part of it would be? \n\njulianna: i don't know. \n\njerry: i think it would be not being able to tell if there was bugs in my food. how could you ever enjoy a meal like that? i'd constantly be feeling around with my lips and my tongue. \n\njulianna: well that's how my five-year old eats. he's a very picky eater. \n\njerry: you hear about that kid that was kidnapped the other day in pennsylvania? \n\njulianna: no. \n\njerry: he was at a carnival with his mother. she goes to get a hot dog, next thing you know she turns around, boom, he's gone. \n\njulianna: oh. \n\njerry: imagine how sick a person has to be to do something like that. (she starts the quick hand chops on his back) and these people are all over the place. you never know who's crazy, i could be one of these people. \n\njulianna (visibly uncomfortable): have you seen any good movies? \n\njerry: who takes care of your boy during the day? \n\njulianna: we have a woman. why? \n\njerry: no no. i'm just saying. \n\njulianna: she had references. \n\njerry: oh i'm sure she did, i'm sure they're impeccable. i'm talking about the ones that forge `em. \n\njerry: (about the massage)you know i think this is really helping. \n\njulianna: i don't live near here, ya know! \n\njerry: so she's giving me the massage and i'm just making conversation. \n\nelaine: i don't like to talk during a massage. \n\njerry: neither do i, but i do it for them. i figure they're bored. \n\ngeorge: yeah, i do that too. i feel guilty about getting the pleasure. i feel like i don't deserve it so i talk. it stops me from enjoying it. there's nothing to eat in here. \n\nelaine: oh! i forgot to tell you-- \n\njerry: i'm in the middle of a story. \n\nelaine: oh, okay, go ahead. \n\ngeorge: why don't you ever go shopping? \n\njerry: well its not like it's a really funny story or anything. \n\nelaine: what happened? \n\njerry: well so she mentioned that she had a son, and then for some reason, i launch into the story about the kid from pennsylvania who was abducted. \n\nelaine: oh, wasn't that terrible? \n\njerry: yes, it was. \n\ngeorge: not even an apple. \n\nelaine: she doesn't want to hear that, that was stupid. \n\njerry: i know it was stupid. \n\nelaine: really stupid. (she takes a big sip from her bottled water.) \n\njerry: hey, i just said it was stupid. \n\ngeorge: what about this leftover chinese food? \n\njerry: take it. \n\nelaine: i can't believe you said that. \n\njerry: hey, would you stop it already? \n\nelaine: so, whatd she say? \n\njerry: i don't know, she actually seemed to get a little paranoid. \n\ngeorge: (he just took a bite of the chinese food ) this is terrible. what is this, ginger? i hate ginger. i can't understand how anyone can eat ginger. (puts the container back in the refrigerator.) \n\nelaine: i have a good masseuse you could go to. \n\njerry: nah, she's really good and she's not just a masseuse, she's a physical therapist. there's a big difference. she uses the ultrasound, it's a real medical procedure. in fact, if you get a doctor's note, it's covered by insurance. \n\ngeorge: physical therapy is covered by insurance? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: you don't have to pay for the massage? \n\njerry: not if you have a doctor's note. \n\nelaine: so where do you get this note? \n\njerry: well i've never actually done it but if i really wanted to i could probably get one from my friend roy, the dentist. \n\ngeorge: right, your friend roy. \n\nelaine: what's the name of this physical therapist? \n\njerry: i'll tell you, but don't ask her anything about her kid, she a little off. \n\ngeorge: and you don't have to pay. \n\ngeorge: we have a, three-o'clock appointments. \n\nreceptionist: george and elaine, right? \n\nelaine: right. \n\nreceptionist: could you fill these out for me please? and um, elaine, you'll be seeing julianna \n\nelaine: (quietly) ok. \n\nreceptionist: and george, you'll be with raymond. \n\ngeorge: excuse me, did you say 'raymond'? \n\nreceptionist: yes. \n\ngeorge: but, uh, raymond is a man. \n\nreceptionist: that's right. \n\ngeorge: i can't get a massage from a man. \n\nelaine: why not? \n\ngeorge: what, are you crazy? i can't have a man touching me. switch with me. \n\nelaine: no, i don't want the man either. \n\ngeorge: what's the difference, you're a woman. they're supposed to be touching you. \n\nelaine: he'd just be touching your back. \n\ngeorge: he'd just be touching your back too. \n\nelaine: no, it could get sexual. \n\ngeorge: i know. that's the point. if it's gonna get sexual, it should get sexual with you. \n\nelaine: i wouldn't be comfortable. \n\ngeorge: i would? what if something happens? \n\nelaine: what could happen? \n\ngeorge: what if it felt good? \n\nelaine: it's supposed to feel good. \n\ngeorge: i don't want it to feel good. \n\nelaine: then why get the massage? \n\ngeorge: exactly! \n\nraymond: george? \n\ngeorge: yes? \n\nraymond: i'm raymond. (with a big smile) \n\ngeorge: hello.(with not a big smile) \n\nraymond: are you ready? (smiling, he looks at elaine. she smiles back at him while looking all the way up there at the tall, handsome raymond.) \n\nraymond: and then julianna asked me if i wanted to join her here in the office. \n\ngeorge: really. \n\nraymond: use to be a flight attendant. \n\ngeorge: oh boy. \n\nraymond: ya know, why don't ya, open those pants, it's gonna be a lot easier that way. \n\nraymond: so what do you do? \n\ngeorge: what? \n\nraymond: i said, 'what do you do?'. \n\ngeorge: i-i don't know. \n\nraymond: you don't know what you do? \n\ngeorge: nah. \n\nraymond: ohh-ho, come on. hey, you're very tense. \n\ngeorge: hu, coffee. too much coffee (nervous laughter). \n\nraymond: okay, just take off those pants now, and i'll work the hamstring. \n\ngeorge: oh, the hamstrings fine. \n\nraymond: but you wrote that it was tender. (holding the clip board) \n\ngeorge: i wrote. pfft, *i* wrote. \n\nraymond: i'll check it out. (makes a notation on the form) \n\ngeorge: are you sure? \n\nraymond: yeah, take 'em off. (continues writing) \n\nraymond: how did you hurt this? \n\ngeorge: i don't know. \n\nraymond: you don't know? \n\ngeorge: no. \n\nraymond: but you just told me-- \n\ngeorge: korea. \n\nraymond: you hurt it in korea? \n\ngeorge: what? \n\nraymond: the hamstring. \n\ngeorge: korea. \n\nraymond: how? \n\ngeorge: hamstring. \n\nraymond: how did you hurt the hamstring? \n\ngeorge: hotel. \n\nelaine: how'd it go? george? \n\njerry: no appointments at all? because my neck is still tight. what about thursday? and friday? oh boy. okay, thanks anyway. \n\njerry: what's with you? \n\ngeorge: a... ah... \n\njerry: yes, a...? \n\ngeorge: a man gave me... \n\njerry: yes, a man gave you...? \n\ngeorge: a man gave me... a massage. hu, hu \n\njerry: so? \n\ngeorge: so he... had his hands and, uh, he was uh \n\njerry: he was what?! \n\ngeorge: he-he was uh touching and rubbing. (nervous laugh) \n\njerry: that's a massage. \n\ngeorge: and then i took my pants off. \n\njerry: you took your pants off? \n\ngeorge: for my hamstring. \n\njerry: oh. \n\ngeorge: he got about uh, two inches from... there. \n\njerry: really? \n\ngeorge: i think it moved. \n\njerry: moved? \n\ngeorge: it may have moved, i don't know. \n\njerry: i'm sure it didn't move. \n\ngeorge: it moved! it was imperceptible but i-i felt it. \n\njerry: maybe it just wanted to change positions? you know, shift to the other side. \n\ngeorge: no, no. it wasn't a shift, i've shifted, this was a move. \n\njerry: okay, so what if it moved? \n\ngeorge: that's the sign! the test; if a - if a man makes it move. \n\njerry: that's not the test. contact is the test, if it moves, as a result of contact. \n\ngeorge: you think it's contact? it has to be touched? \n\njerry: that's what a gym teacher once told me. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: i just saw joe dimaggio in dinky donuts. you know, i-i looked in there and there he was having coffee and a donut. \n\njerry: joe dimaggio? in dinky donuts? \n\nkramer: yeah. joe dimaggio. \n\njerry: no, i'm sorry, if joe dimaggio wants a donut, he goes to a fancy restaurant or a hotel. he's not sitting in dinky donuts. \n\nkramer: well maybe he likes dinky donuts. \n\ngeorge: i don't even like to sit next to a man on an airplane 'cause our knees might touch. \n\njerry: i can't see joe dimaggio sitting at the counter in little tiny filthy smelly dinky donuts. \n\nkramer: why can't joe dimaggio have a donut like everyone else? \n\njerry: he can have a donut, \n\nkramer: yeah. \n\njerry: but not at dinky. \n\ngeorge: i don't even like to use urinals, always been a stall man. \n\nkramer: look i'm tellin-- (he does a double take and looks at george) i'm telling ya, that was joe dimaggio. \n\ngeorge: the guy slept with marilyn monroe, he's in dinky donuts. what about this doctor's note? let's go see your friend roy. \n\njerry: i never said i'd do that. \n\ngeorge: what are you talking about, that's seventy-five bucks! i'm not working, i can't afford that. \n\njerry: i don't know how i feel about it. \n\ngeorge: oh, what are you, like, a quaker now? \n\njerry: alright, alright. \n\nkramer: a stall man, huh? (small laugh) \n\ngeorge: all right -- (gets up to leave) \n\nkramer: wha-ha-a-at? (makes a gesture with his hand) \n\njerry: ...so we were just kinda wondering if it was possible for you to write us a note, and if you can't, believe me, it's fine. \n\ngeorge: he didn't say he can't. \n\njerry: i mean, if you feel funny about it, at all. \n\ngeorge: he doesn't feel funny. \n\njerry: if he does. \n\ngeorge: do you feel funny? he didn't say anything. \n\njerry: he feels funny. you don't have to do this. \n\ngeorge: he knows that! \n\njerry: roy, should we go? is this a breach of our friendship? \n\ngeorge: oh, can you be any more dramatic? \n\nroy: don't be ridiculous. (notices george looking at a poster on the wall) holyfield. he's a good friend of one of my patients. he's got a hell of a body, doesn't he? \n\ngeorge: how would i know? \n\nroy: do you like him? \n\ngeorge: what do you mean, like him? \n\nroy: do you like him? \n\ngeorge: i mean he's a good fighter and a nice guy but i don't like him. \n\nroy: how come you don't like him? \n\ngeorge: why should i? \n\njerry: what is the matter with you? \n\ngeorge: nothing, why? you think something's wrong? am i different? \n\nroy: so, you want the notes? \n\njerry: you don't have to, really. \n\nroy: nah nah, it's ok. \n\njerry: we should probably get one for elaine, too, right george? (turns to george, who is staring intently at the holyfield poster) george? \n\njerry: well what about the week after? \n\njerry: no appointments at all? (motions to elaine to move over) \n\nelaine: what? (he bumps her with his butt to move over) \n\njerry: can i - can i at least just talk to her so i can apologize? forget it. (hangs up) i can't believe this, i make one innocent comment, about some lunatic in pennsylvania and i'm cut off. this woman is insane. (looks at elaine for a moment) what's with you? \n\nelaine: what? \n\njerry: well you were too close to me, i was all scrunched in there. \n\nelaine: hey, you scrunched me. i sat down here first. \n\nkramer: hey, i saw dimaggio in the donut shop again. \n\njerry: uh huh. \n\nkramer: yeah. \n\nelaine: joe dimaggio? \n\nkramer: joe dimaggio, you know this time i went in and sat down across from him and i really watched him. i studied, his every move. for example, he dunks. \n\nelaine: joe dimaggio dunks his donut?! \n\nkramer: that's right. \n\njerry: see, now i know it's not him. joe dimaggio could not be a dunker. \n\nkramer: oh, he's a dunker. \n\nelaine: why couldn't he be a dunker? \n\nkramer: and nothing diverts his attention. like, i'm uh, you know, i-i, like i'm sitting in there, you know. and, uh, i start banging on the table, you know, to uh, so that hell look up, you know, like i'm sitting there you know and uh, *bang* (slams the table) you know, *bang* he wouldn't move. so then i start doing these yelping noises. like, *yip* (high pitched yelping noises) *yip*. no reaction because the guy is so focused, you see, he can just block out anything that's going on around him. see, that's how he played baseball. he dunks like he hits. \n\nelaine: so then what? \n\nkramer: well, then the waitress, she comes up and she tells me to shut up or they're gonna throw me out. \n\nelaine: why didn't you just call out his name? \n\njerry: what happened to you? \n\ngeorge: these kids called me a mary. \n\nelaine: a what? \n\ngeorge: i was jumping over a puddle, and for some reason i went like this. (george stretches out his arms in a ballet motion) and they called me a mary. so i chased them, and i tripped and i fell. \n\nkramer: yeah, you know kids, they can be very perceptive. \n\nelaine: hey, george? what is this? (laughing, elaine makes the same outstretched arm motion) what is that? no really, what is that? \n\njerry: hello? oh, hi roy. what? oh my god. wel-- how did this happen? what can i do? oh. i am so sorry. okay. bye. (hangs up) that was roy. he's under investigation for insurance fraud. \n\nkramer (singing): ...just a man and not a freak, joltin' joe dimaggio. joe, joe. go, joe... \n\njerry: i told you. \n\ngeorge: told me what? \n\njerry: i told you we shouldn't do it. \n\ngeorge: he didn't say anything. \n\njerry: he's got a house, a family, they could take away his license. you should have heard him. three notes, how stupid was that? we never should have got three notes. \n\nelaine: three notes? \n\njerry: yeah, you, me and george. \n\nelaine: you got me a note? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nelaine: but i got my own note. \n\njerry: you what? \n\nelaine: i got a note from my gynecologist. \n\njerry: why'd you do that? \n\nelaine: i didn't know you were getting me a note. \n\njerry: of course i was getting you a note. \n\nelaine: but you didn't say anything. ohhh \n\njerry: neither did you, that's how he got caught. we sent in four notes from two doctors. \n\ngeorge: no doctor-- \n\nelaine: wait a-- \n\nkramer: how can you do that to your friend? he's got a wife, kids, and a lot of other stuff. oh, yyyeeah. \n\njerry: hi pam. \n\npam: hello. \n\ngeorge: hello. \n\njerry: i just thought ahh maybe i could talk to roy, if um \n\nroy: pam, did the x-ray from mrs. sloan... hi. \n\njerry: hi roy. \n\ngeorge: how ya doing? \n\nroy: come on back, i have a patient but she's under. \n\njerry: i don't even know what to say. \n\ngeorge: me neither. \n\njerry: i knew this would happen. \n\ngeorge: me too. \n\njerry: i mean the whole thing, it's just... \n\ngeorge: tragic. \n\njerry: well it's not tragic. \n\ngeorge: no? \n\njerry: no, it's... \n\ngeorge: unsettling? \n\njerry: okay. i mean, what if the-- \n\npam: i hope you're both happy. (she turns and walks away) \n\njerry: i'm not happy. \n\ngeorge: me neither. i've never been happy. \n\njerry: i mean i'm happy sometimes, but-but not now. \n\ngeorge: in college, maybe. those were fun times. \n\njerry: yeah, college was fun. \n\ngeorge: yeah. \n\njerry: yeah. \n\npam: you know the whole practice is in jeopardy, you know that? (she turns and walks away again.) \n\nroy: don't mind her. \n\njerry: oh please, i love her. \n\ngeorge: i've just met her but i'm very impressed. \n\nroy: i can't understand, i've never had a problem with these notes before. \n\njerry: well what's the next move, what's gonna happen now? \n\nroy: well, nothing really, as long as we get the physical therapist to go along with our story. \n\njerry: what? the physical therapist? why? \n\nroy: she just has to say the complaint was related to a dental problem. \n\ngeorge: how ya doing? \n\njerry: hi. ah look, i know i don't have an appointment but it's really important that i talk with julianna. \n\nreceptionist: i'm sorry, mr. seinfeld, she's not in. \n\njerry: yeah, i know she's mad at me, but i really have to speak with her. \n\nreceptionist: i told you, she's not here. \n\njerry: you don't understand, ah \n\nreceptionist: look, you have to leave. \n\njerry: wait a second, don't you-- \n\njerry: hi. hi. look, i don't know what you think -- \n\njulianna: please! \n\njerry: --but, you see, let me just talk to you for a second, see, what i did is inadvertently sent an insurance-- \n\njulianna: i treated you, so please, just get out of the office! \n\njerry: can't you just listen to me? \n\njulianna (releasing her child): run billy! run to the office and close the door! (to the receptionist) call the police! \n\njerry: the police? \n\nraymond: what is the --. hi george. (stands there with a big smile) \n\ngeorge: hello. \n\njerry (to george): raymond? \n\nelaine: well, i mean it's only a six month probation, it's a slap on the wrist. \n\njerry: yeah, i still don't see any dinner invitations forthcoming. \n\ngeorge: men have been popping into my sexual fantasies. all of a sudden i'll be, in the middle. \n\nelaine: of what? \n\ngeorge: and a guy will appear from out of nowhere. i say \"get out of here! what do you want? you don't belong here!\" \n\nelaine: what do they do? \n\ngeorge: they talk back. they go, \"hey george, how's it going?\" i say, \"get the hell out of here!\" \n\njerry: hey, it's the k-man. (he bangs on the glass to get kramer's attention, elaine laughs) maybe it's time you got a different hobby. \n\nkramer: man, ughhhh, wwwheh. i just came from roy's. i threw up from the gas. \n\njerry: did he say anything? \n\nkramer: no no, he's fine. \n\njerry (noticing something across the coffee shop): oh my god, it's... \n\ngeorge (looking over): joe dimaggio. \n\nelaine: (gasps) \n\nkramer: where? \n\njerry: having a cup of coffee. \n\nelaine: and he's dunking! \n\nkramer: yeah -- yeah. \n\njerry: wow. look at him. the yankee clipper \n\nkramer: (quietly) yeah. \n\njerry: here. \n\ngeorge: you see? now that is a handsome man. (elaine and jerry look right at george) oh please. \n\nkramer: wait, wait hold on now, wait, wait *bang* (he slams his hand down on the table, startling jerry, elaine and george) *bang* (again) *yip* (another high pitched yelping sound) *yip* *yip* see? i told you. \n\njerry: what causes homophobia? what is it, that makes a heterosexual man, worry? i think it's because, men know, that deep down we have weak sales resistance. we're constantly buying shoes that hurt us, pants that don't fit right. men think, \"obviously i can be talked into anything. what if i accidentally wander into some sort of homosexual store, thinking it's a shoe store, and the salesman goes, 'just hold this guy's hand, walk around the store a little bit, see how you feel. no obligation, no pressure, just try it. would you like to see him in a sandal?'\" \n\nsong over the end credits: joltin' joe dimaggio \n\nhttp: //www.baseball-almanac.com/poetry/joltinjoedimaggio.shtml \n\npublished: 1941 \n\nperformed by: les brown \n\nsung by: betty bonney \n\njerry: welcome everyone to the room...ah, the extra button....yeah ... what kind of a sicko would save these ...have them in a huge file, drawers that wide (small fingers opening imaginary drawers) where the hell is that ... i mean is it that hard to get round black buttons that they have to make it into such a great thing like this? ... is it such a great jacket ... the buttons are so unique, so one of a kind, you'll never find them - they save you the trouble of knocking your brain off - and we know they're going to fall off too that's the other thing ... \n\npatrice: everyone in my family's creative. and even though i'm working as an accountant now i'd really like to eventually live exclusively on my pappe-ay mache-ay hats \n\ngeorge: i don't understand. paper machay hats? \n\npatrice: uh uh \n\ngeorge: what if it rains? \n\npatrice: they're art. you hang them on the wall. \n\ngeorge: oh, art! \n\npatrice: it's my creative outlet. one of my passions. \n\ngeorge: any money in it? \n\npatrice: who so belongs only to his age, references only popenjays and mumbo jumbos \n\ngeorge: of course, right. \n\npatrice: thomas carlisle, 1864. \n\ngeorge: tommy c. \n\njerry: these are the receipts from 85 and i'm going to do 86. \n\nkramer: i'm sorry. i thought it was a legitimate charity. i didn't know you'd get audited \n\njerry: i don't blame you. i blame myself. \n\nkramer: no, blame me. \n\njerry: ok, i blame you. \n\nkramer: don't blame me. \n\njerry: what was i supposed to do? you knew i was on my first date with elaine. you come barging in here asking me to contribute money for a volcano relief fund for krakatoa. \n\nkramer: it was supposed to erupt. \n\njerry: i find the whole thing very embarrassing. \n\nkramer: you know what my feelings are about this. i don't even pay taxes. \n\njerry: yeah, tha's easy when you have no income. \n\nelaine: hi, \n\njerry: hi \n\nelaine: kramer, do me a favour will ya'. if you insist o making pasta in my apartment please don't put the tomato sauce on the pasta while it's in the strainer. all the little squares have hardened red sauce in them. \n\nelaine: what's so funny \n\njerry: kramer dating your room mate. it's funny. \n\nelaine: uh, it's a riot alice. \n\nkramer: when do you pit the sauce on? \n\nelaine: any other time. \n\nkramer: i like to strain the sauce. \n\nelaine: and ... i could really live without the tribal music ... and the make out sessions in the living room \n\nkramer: yeah, tina likes the couch. \n\nelaine: what are you doing? what is all this? \n\njerry: oh he's uh, helping me sort my receipts. i'm being audited. \n\nelaine: o, your being auditted? what for? \n\njerry: oh, i contributed money to a charity that turned out to be fraudulent. it's very boring. \n\nelaine: when was this? \n\njerry: uh, along long time ago, in a galaxy far far away. \n\nelaine: i remember you donated to some volcano thing on our first date. \n\njerry: volcano? really? \n\nelaine: oh, wait a minute. don't tell me that that was ... \n\njerry: something to drink? \n\nelaine: what did you think, that would impress me? \n\njerry: you got it all wrong. i was thinking only of the poor krakatoans \n\nelaine: like you this donation for 50 bucks and i'd start tearing my clothes off? \n\njerry: those brave krakatoans east of java. who sacrifice so much for so long. \n\nelaine: now you're being audited because of it. you see that's karma. \n\njerry: no, that's krama. \n\nelaine: so, waddya' going to do? \n\njerry: it's all taken care of. \n\nelaine: how is that? \n\nkramer: (chuckles) \n\njerry: an old friend of mine, whom you may have met, george costanza, has recently become intimate with a female accountant who was formally a highly placed official with an outfit known as the irs. and as we speak, at this very moment he is handing over to her all of my pertinent tax information. and she has assured us that the matter is well within her field of expertise. \n\nelaine: why is she doing this? \n\njerry: i don't know. it must be love. \n\ngeorge: i don't think we should see each other anymore. you're great but i'm i'm riddled with personal problems. \n\npatrice: what did i do? \n\ngeorge: nothing it's not you. it's me. i have a fear of commitment. i don't know how to love. \n\npatrice: you hate my earrings don't you? \n\ngeorge: no, no, \n\npatrice: and you didn't comment on the chop sticks. \n\ngeorge: i love the chop sticks. i, i personally prefer a fork but they look very nice. \n\npatrice: you're not telling me the truth. i must have done something. \n\ngeorge: i have a fear of intimacy \n\npatrice: don't give me cliches. i have a right to know. what did i do wrong? \n\ngeorge: nothing. it's not you.. \n\npatrice: i want the truth. \n\ngeorge: the truth. you want the truth? it is your earrings it is the chopsticks but it's so much more. you're pretentious. you call everyone by their full name you call my doorman, sammy, \"samuel\" but you didn't even say \"samuel\" you went \"sam - u- el\" papie-eh mach-eh what is papie-ay mach-ay? \n\npatrice: keep goin'. \n\ngeorge: i, i think i made my point. i'm sorry if i was a little harsh. \n\npatrice: no, i asked for the truth. thank you for being so honest. \n\ngeorge: can i uh, can i walk you back to work? \n\npatrice: i prefer to go alone. how much do i owe? \n\ngeorge: oh, please ... ... four dollars is f... \n\njerry: ... if this audit had happened to me and i didn't have this woman to help me i would have killed this man. i would have strangled the life out of him with my bare hands \n\nelaine: i don't blame ya' \n\njerry: have you ever been through an audit? \n\nelaine: no. \n\njerry: it's hell. it's the financial equivalent of a complete rectal examination. i would have killed this man. torn him limb from limb, ripped the flesh right off his bones ... \n\njerry: yeah \n\ngeorge: george \n\njerry: come up - ah, there he is, the man himself, george louis costanza. here i am about to go to the electric chair and my oldest friend is dating the governor \n\ngeorge: my whole life has been a complete waste of time, (chuckle) \n\njerry: and there's so much more to go. \n\ngeorge: now i know what i am supposed to do. it's so simple. tell the truth that's all. just tell the truth \n\njerry: so what happened? you gave her my tax papers? ... my papers? \n\ngeorge: oh, oh, your papers \n\njerry: what happened you didn't give her the papers? \n\ngeorge: no. i did. \n\njerry: so? \n\ngeorge: ...i broke up with her. \n\njerry: you what? \n\ngeorge: i broke up with her. \n\njerry: i'm being audited! and you broke up with her? \n\ngeorge: it's ok. it's fine. she'll do it. i'm sure she'll still do it. \n\njerry: why will she still do it? she hates you now. people don't do you favors after you dump them. \n\ngeorge: oh, no. we left on good terms. \n\njerry: how is that possible? \n\ngeorge: because i uh, i told her the truth. \n\njerry: oh, my god. \n\ngeorge: it's ok. \n\njerry: it's unheard of ... \n\ngeorge: she asked me to. \n\njerry: so you lie! what did you tell her? \n\ngeorge: i told her that she was pretentious. \n\njerry: pretentious!? the woman has my tax papers. you told her she was pretentious? the irs. they're like the mafia. they can take anything they want \n\nelaine: how would you like it if someone told you the truth? \n\ngeorge: like what? what could they say? \n\nelaine: there are plenty of things to say. \n\ngeorge: like what? i'm bald? what is it specifically? is, is there an odor i'm not aware of? \n\nelaine: george, please. \n\ngeorge: give me one. \n\nelaine: you sure? \n\ngeorge: yes. \n\nelaine: what? \n\nelaine: forget it. you are very careful with money. \n\ngeorge: i'm cheap? you think i'm cheap? how could you say that to me? i can't believe this. how could you say that to me? \n\nelaine: you asked me to. \n\ngeorge: you should have lied. \n\nelaine: huh, so should you. \n\njerry: ok, wait a second, wait a second, what happened to my papers? \n\ngeorge: (ignoring jerry) i mean i'm not really working right now. \n\nelaine: i know. \n\ngeorge: when i was working i spent baby. \n\njerry: yeah, i know champagne, limos, cigars. what happened to the papers? \n\ngeorge: she put them in her pocketbook. i guess she took them with her. \n\nelaine: pocketbook or a handbag? \n\njerry: is that relevant? she took them. call her office. \n\ngeorge: give me the phone. (dials) yea, hi i would like to speak to patrice. ... what? ... oh really? ... oh, ok, thank you, ... (hangs up) \n\njerry: what? what? \n\ngeorge: she never came back from lunch. \n\njerry: this is no good. this is no good. call her house. \n\ngeorge: (dials) hi, are you ok? no, no,.. huh, (hangs up) she hung up. \n\njerry: not good. \n\ngeorge: all right. there's nothing to be worried about. she's just a little annoyed right now. tomorrow i'll personally go over there. i'll apologize. i'll get the papers. don't worry. don't worry. (exits) \n\njerry: not good \n\nkramer: yeah, it's a windshield. \n\njerry: i can see that. what's it for? \n\nkramer: i found it on the road. \n\njerry: yeah (to buzzer) \n\nelaine: (from intercom) i just finished working out are you busy? \n\njerry: come on up. \n\nkramer: can you believe somebody threw this out? you know i'm going to make a coffee table out of this and surprise tina. \n\njerry: wouldn't it be invisible? i mean, what, are you going to just sense it's in front of the couch? \n\nkramer: wow \n\nelaine: hell-oo \n\nkramer: hell-oo \n\njerry: what's with you two? \n\nelaine: you haven't told him? \n\njerry: tell me what? \n\nelaine: huh, go ahead, tell him. \n\nkramer: i, i saw her naked. \n\nelaine: he saw me naked. kramer, ... saw me naked. \n\nkramer: well, you know, ... it was an accident. \n\nelaine: who walks into a woman's bedroom without knocking. i want to know! \n\nkramer: i thought it was a closet. \n\njerry: completely naked? \n\nkramer: completely naked. \n\nelaine: jerrryyy, how can i go on? \n\nkramer: all right. i'll tell you what. if it's going to make you feel any better you can see me naked. \n\nelaine: no thanks! \n\nkramer: no, i want you to see me naked. \n\nelaine: no, no no. \n\nkramer: no, i want to show you. \n\nelaine: no! jerry! jerry! \n\njerry: ok, just a second lets not lose our heads here. kramer you know you are always welcome in my home but as far as mr. johnson is concerned, that's another story. \n\nelaine: what is this? \n\nkramer: well, it's a windshield. it's going to be your new coffee table. \n\nelaine: ah, i'm going to kill myself on that thiing. you can't even see it. \n\njerry: you'll sense it. \n\njerry: well, what happened? was she there? \n\ngeorge: no, no she wasn't. \n\njerry: you didn't get my papers? \n\ngeorge: no, i didn't. \n\njerry: well, where is she? \n\ngeorge: a mental institution. \n\njerry: why is it so difficult, uncomfortable, to be naked. it's because when you have clothes on you can always kinda make those little adjustments which people like to do ... you feel like you're getting it together, yeah, yeah pretty good (pulling at lapels, pockets etc.) feeling good looking good but when you're naked it's like it's so final you're, well that's it. (no movements) there's nothing else i can do. that's why i like to wear a belt when i'm naked. cause i feel it gives me something, i know i'm naked, but you know, (tugging and lifting belt) i like to get pockets to hang off of the belt that would be, wouldn't that be the ultimate? to be naked and still be able to do this (hand in pocket) i think that would really help a lot. \n\njerry: a mental institution? \n\nkramer: you know what they do in there? did you see coocoo's nest? they put those electrodes in your head. \n\ngeorge: it's not really a mental institution. it's more like a depression clinic. she went out to woodhaven and checked herself in. i'm, i'm sick over this. \n\nelaine: who told you this \n\ngeorge: her roommate. i've driven women to lesbianism before but never to a mental institution. \n\nkramer: my friend bob sacamano had shock treatments. but his synapses were so large, it had no effect. \n\njerry: you know i hate to raise a crass financial concern but was there any information as to the where abouts of my papers! \n\ngeorge: she put them in her pocket book. she probably took them out there with her. \n\njerry: so what now? \n\ngeorge: i don't know. \n\njerry: can we go out there? \n\ngeorge: where? \n\njerry: woodhaven. \n\ngeorge: we could. \n\ngeorge: i'm very nervous about this. i've never spoken to a mental patient before. \n\njerry: my cousin douglas was in a place like this one time . he came over to my house for dinner. there was no soda and he went bezerk. he was screamin' \"where's the pepsi, where's the pepsi?\" \n\ngeorge: i should be in a place like this. i envy this woman. ya' get to wear slippers all day. friends visit. they pity you. pity is very underrated. i like it it's good. plus they give you those word association tests. i love those. \n\njerry: that'd be great. there's no wrong answer. \n\ngeorge: potato \n\njerry: tuberculosis \n\ngeorge: blanket \n\njerry: leroy \n\ngeorge: grass \n\njerry: tuberculosis \n\ngeorge: oh, boy. here she comes. \n\nelaine: oh, my god. \n\nelaine: kramer! \n\nkramer: hey. \n\nelaine: will you please put something on. \n\nkramer: listen uh, you want some leftovers? i made some african food. there's, yambalas and uh, sambusa. \n\ntina: kramer, are you coming back to bed? \n\nkramer: yeah, yeah, i'll be right there baby. \n\ntina: oh, hi elaine. (returns elaine's ear rings) what did you think of the coffee table? \n\nelaine: it's invisible. \n\nkramer: so, is everything cool? or what? \n\ntina: yeah, um, you seem little bit dysfunctional. \n\nelaine: well, \n\ntina: come on elaine. just tell us the truth. \n\nelaine: the truth!, you want the truth? \n\npatrice: who are you? \n\ngeorge: oh, this is my friend jerry. \n\npatrice: why are you talking like that? and what do you want? \n\njerry: want, want? what could i possibly want? uh, i just came because i, i heard so many nice things about you from george. \n\npatrice: george thinks i'm pretentious. \n\ngeorge: pretentious? who, who isn't pretentious? ha, ha, if everyone who was pretentious was in a mental institution, ... uh, obviously this isn't a mental institution. \n\npatrice: you're just trying to take it all back because you're feeling guilty i'm in here. \n\ngeorge: no, that's not it at all. \n\npatrice: don't lie george. \n\ngeorge : i'm not a lier! \n\ngeorge: uh, we're cool. everything's cool (to security attendent) \n\njerry: just chatting. friendly. \n\ngeorge: all righty, no reason for us to uh, raise our voices. \n\npatrice: i know what you said. you can't change that. \n\ngeorge: what i said? i say stupid things all the time i can't go two minutes without saying stupid things. \n\njerry: it's one stupid thing after another. so let me ask you, when you come to one of these places, what do you bring your pocketbook? \n\ngeorge: you should be the one criticizing me. i, i'm lucky to even know someone like you. \n\npatrice: you mean that? \n\ngeorge: of course i mean that. i am incapable of guile. \n\njerry: he's never guiled. you know some women keep a lot of important papers in their, uh, pocket books. like for example oh, someone else's personal financial papers. \n\npatrice: papers? oh, jerry, you're the jerome with the tax problem. you know after that day with george i got so cuckoo i threw out all your papers. so i'd love to help you but i'll need the copies. \n\njerry: there are no copies. \n\npatrice: so are you saying you want to continue seeing me? \n\njerry: who makes copies? \n\nelaine: the truth is ... i think you make ... a very nice couple. \n\nkramer: oh, \n\ntina: kramer, \n\ntina: here kramer? \n\nkramer: no, lets go to the couch... \n\njerry: (on phone)yes, i'm trying to get a copy of a receipt for a computer that i bought there.... it was 1987 ... i remember i talked to a guy - he had like a maroon sport jacket - and he might have had a toupee - oh, it was a weave - ok uh, then i'll come bye ok, bye. \n\njerry: anybody want to take a walk down to 48th street? i think i may have tracked down another receipt. \n\nelaine: i can't. i have to go visit tina in the hospital. \n\njerry: george? \n\ngeorge: i'm going to a poetry reading with patrice first time poets, in a burnt out building, down by the docks, supposed to be good. \n\nkramer: hey, are you going to the hospital now? \n\nelaine: yeah, i suppose i am. \n\nkramer: all right, great, great uh, we'll share a cab. \n\njerry: you're going by 48th st. you can give me a ride. \n\ngeorge: hey, i'm getting in on that. \n\nelaine: you know you're chippin' in. \n\ngeorge: you're going that way anyway! \n\njerry: i was audited last year. at first i thought well, irs kinda sounds like toys r us maybe won't be so bad. maybe they have a sense of fun about it, you know. but it's it's bad. it's an ordeal. and they don't do anything to keep your spirits up through the ordeal. i think they should take all your receipts and put them in one of those big lucite sweepstake drums and just kinda crank it around there. you know give me a feeling like you might win something. you know what i mean? then they can pull them out one by one and go \"oh, i'm sorry that's another illegal deduction. but we do have some lovely parting gifts for you. jail!\" \n\n[setting: night club] \n\njerry: i have never seen an old person in a new bathing suit in my life. i don't know where they get their bathing suits, but my father has bathing suits from other centuries. my parents live in florida, and if you go down there and you forget your bathing suits then they want you to wear one of theirs. you know how that gets? \"you need trunks son? i've got trunks for you. you can wear my trunks.\" fathers don't wear bathing suits, they wear trunks. it's kind of the same thing a tree would wear if it went swimming. so i get in the water with in thing and it's like floating around me somewhere. did you ever put on a bathing suit that you don't even know exactly where you are inside the bathing suit? you bump into somebody you know \"no i'm parasailing, i'm waiting for the boat to come back.\" \n\n[setting: florida, evening, condo of jerry's parents] \n\nhelen: (looking by the window) they were supposed to be here at 730. call the airlines again. \n\nmorty: (searching in a kitchen drawer) what happened to the scotch tape? who takes the scotch tape? nobody returns anything around here. \n\nhelen: oh i think that's them! \n\nmorty: you what i'll do next time? i'll hide it so nobody can find it. \n\nall: hi, welcome, greetings, hugs, etc. \n\nmorty: welcome to florida! \n\nelaine: hi mr. seinfeld! (hug) \n\njerry: hey, there's the old man! (hug) \n\nmorty: so, what took you so long? \n\njerry: ahh, we waited 35 minutes in the rent-a-car place. \n\nhelen: i don't know why you had to rent a car. we would have picked you up. \n\njerry: what's the difference? \n\nhelen: you could have used our car. \n\njerry: i don't wanna use your car. \n\nhelen: what's wrong with our car? \n\njerry: nothing. it's a fine car. what if you wanna use it? \n\nhelen: we don't use it. \n\nmorty: what are you talking? we use it. \n\nhelen: if you were using it, we wouldn't use it. \n\njerry: so what would you do? you'd hitch? \n\nhelen: how much is a rent-a-car? \n\njerry: i don't know. 25 bucks a day. \n\nhelen: what? you're crazy. \n\nmorty: plus the insurance. \n\njerry: oh, i didn't get the insurance. \n\nmorty: how could you not get the insurance? \n\nhelen: we'll pay for the car. \n\njerry: you're not paying for it. \n\nhelen: morty. (asking him to back her. he doesn't) \n\njerry: god it's so hot in here. why don't you put on the air conditioning? \n\nhelen: you don't need the air conditioner. so, you have your speech all ready? \n\njerry: it's not a speech. do i have to make a speech? \n\nhelen: of course, they're giving a testimonial for your father. you could do your comic routines. \n\njerry: (ironically) oh yeah, that will go over real well with that crowd. \n\nelaine: (looking by the window) ooh, you have a lake? \n\njerry: the lake isn't real. \n\nhelen: the lake is real. \n\nmorty: are you kidding? they built the lake. \n\nhelen: but it's real. it's water. \n\nhelen: where are you going with those? \n\njerry: i'm gonna put elaine's stuff in here. \n\nhelen: don't sleep in there. you can you use the bedroom. \n\nelaine: i can't take your bedroom. \n\nhelen: i'm up at 6 o'clock in the morning. \n\nelaine: i can't kick you out of your bed. \n\nhelen: we don't even sleep. \n\njerry: ma. \n\nhelen: but this is sofa bed, you'll be uncomfortable. \n\njerry: (to morty) what about you? \n\nmorty: why should i be comfortable? \n\njerry: (to helen) what about him? \n\nhelen: don't worry, he's comfortable. \n\nmorty: i'll sleep standing up. i'll be fine. \n\nhelen: will you stop? \n\nelaine: yeah, i'll just stay in here. (goes in the guest room) \n\nhelen: jerry, (asking jerry to go in the kitchen so elaine won't hear) jerry. you don't have to stay on the couch on my account. the two of you could stay in there together. \n\njerry: na, that's not such a good idea. \n\nhelen: well i tought that... \n\njerry: not now. she's right inside. \n\nhelen: (quieter) what happened? \n\njerry: i don't know. we decided we don't really work as a couple. \n\nhelen: what does that mean? \n\njerry: well... \n\nmorty: (comes to the kitchen and with a loud voice) why are you whispering? \n\njerry: shh! nothing, nothing. \n\nhelen: elaine... \n\nmorty: (still loud) what about her? \n\njerry: (tries to explain to morty but elaine then comes out of the guest room to get more luggage, so he fakes a conversation) ...but you know, look at the sun-dried tomatoes. where were they five years ago? it just goes to show you. you never know what... huh (waiting for elaine to go back in the guest room) you know... huh... what could happen to a vegetable. it could just take right off at any time. (morty finally gets it. so jerry goes on quieter) we've tried all kind of arrangements, but we can't seem to be friends when we sleep together. \n\nmorty: (morty goes on louder! did he ever whisper in any episode? -) why do you need more friends? you've got plenty of friends. \n\nhelen: he's an idealist. \n\nmorty: what the hell are you looking for? \n\njerry: i'm looking. that's the point. i like looking. \n\nhelen: he likes looking. \n\nmorty: so look. \n\nhelen: but how long can you look? \n\njerry: i'm going for the record. \n\nhelen: you know your father wouldn't say so but he's really glad you came. \n\njerry: oh, come on. \n\nhelen: this is a big thing for him. outgoing president of the condo association. \n\n(knock on door: this is jack and doris, neigboors) \n\nmorty: aha! \n\ndoris: so they arrived safely. \n\nmorty: (to jerry) you remember jack and doris? \n\njerry: nice to see you. this is elaine. \n\nelaine: hi. nice to meet you. \n\njack: so jerry, you came all the way down here for this? \n\nelaine: and scuba diving. \n\nhelen: scuba diving? who's going scuba diving? \n\njerry: we're going scuba diving. we'll be back in time. \n\nhelen: what do you have to go scuba diving for? \n\njerry: for fun. \n\nhelen: for fun? \n\nmorty: jack have some spong cake. \n\njack: no. thanks, no. \n\nmorty: jack is emceeing tomorrow. he's in charge of the whole thing. \n\njack: so jerry, your mother told me you're gonna do one your little comedy skits tomorrow? \n\njerry: i don't think so. \n\njack: no? listen morty you wanna settle up for last night? (morty nods) all right. i owe you 19.45$ (he gets his checks book and a pen from his pocket). \n\nmorty: what did you have? you had the minute steak? \n\njack: yeah. \n\nmorty: did you have a coke or what? \n\njack: i did not have a coke. \n\nmorty: somebody had a coke. \n\nhelen: oh i had a coke. \n\ndoris: and i had the scampi. \n\njack: so that's 17.10$ and the tax and the tip. \n\nmorty: all right. make it 20 bucks. \n\njack: it's 19.45$, morty. (he gives him the check) \n\nmorty: 19.45$ ? \n\njack: see? you know your father. he can't get a write to the penny, but that's why he was such a good president. \n\njerry: what kind of pen is that? \n\njack: this pen? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\njack: this is an astronaut pen. it writes upside down. they use this in space. \n\njerry: wow! that's the astronaut pen. i heard about that. where did you get it? \n\njack: oh it was a gift. \n\njerry: cause sometimes i write in bed and i have to turn and lean on my elbow to make the pen work. \n\njack: take the pen. \n\njerry: oh no. \n\njack: go ahead. \n\njerry: i couldn't \n\njack: come on, take the pen! \n\njerry: i can't take it. \n\njack: do me a personal favor! \n\njerry: no, i'm not... \n\njack: take the pen! \n\njerry: i cannot take it! \n\njack: take the pen! \n\njerry: are you sure? \n\njack: positive! take the pen! \n\njerry: o.k. thank you very much. thank you. gee, boy! \n\nhelen: jack, what are you doing? \n\njack: stop it! \n\ndoris: jack, we should go. (they go to the door) it was nice meeting you. \n\nelaine: mmm, nice to meet you. \n\njerry: thanks again. \n\njack: come on! \n\ndoris: (to morty) she's adorable. (they leave) \n\nhelen: (as soon as the door's closed) what did you take his pen for? \n\njerry: what he gave it to me. \n\nhelen: you didn't have to take it. \n\nmorty: oh my god! she's gotta make a big deal out of everything. \n\njerry: he offered it to me. \n\nhelen: because you made such a big fuss about it. \n\njerry: i liked it. should i have said i didn't like it? \n\nhelen: you shouldn't have said anything. what did you expect him to do? (the camera shows elaine shaking her head at their dispute) \n\njerry: he could have said \"thank you, i like it too\" and put it back in his pocket. \n\nhelen: he loves that pen. \n\nmorty: oh come on! \n\nhelen: he talks about it all the time. every time he takes it out he goes on and on about how it writes upside down, how the astronauts use it. \n\njerry: if he likes it so much, he never should have offered it. \n\nhelen: he didn't think you'd accpet. \n\njerry: well, he was wrong. \n\nhelen: i know his wife. she has some mouth on her. she'll tell everyone in the condo now that you made him give you the pen. they're talking about it right now. (again we see elaine smiling at their argument) \n\njerry: so you want me to return it? \n\nhelen: yes. \n\nmorty: he's not gonna return the pen. that's ridiculous. \n\njerry: hey i don't even want the pen now! \n\nmorty: jack can afford to give away a pen with all his money. believe me. he gives me a check for 19.45. he didn't have a coke. ho, ho, ho! \n\nelaine: here, let me see it. (she takes a pad to try the pen) hey, it writes upside down. \n\n[setting: condo's guest room] \n\nelaine: come in. \n\njerry: are you o.k. in here? \n\nelaine: why is it so hot in here? how can they sleep like this? \n\njerry: it's only for three days. today's over and we have tommorow. we leave on sunday. it's one day, really. \n\nelaine: oh man. what is with this bar? it's right in my back. it's killing me. \n\njerry: oh you wanna switch? i'm sleeping on a love seat. i've got my feet up in the air like i'm in a space capsule. \n\nelaine: i am never gonna fall asleep. \n\njerry: oh, no don't say that. you'll jinx me. \n\nelaine: how can they not put the air conditioning on? \n\njerry: they're nuts with temperature. \n\nelaine: this bar is right in my back! it's making a dent. \n\njerry: how about that guy writing a check for 19.45? \n\nelaine: i'm sweating here. i'm in bed, sweating. \n\njerry: it's one day. half a day, really. i mean you substract showers and meals, it's like twenty minutes. it will go by like that. (snapping his fingers) \n\n[setting: condo, morning] \n\nmorty: stay on 95 south to biscayne boulevard. then you make a left turn. put you blinker on immediatly, there's an abutment there. then you're gonna merge over very quickly, but stay on biscayne. don't get off biscayne. you understand me? \n\njerry: stay on biscayne. \n\nhelen: you're going underwater? \n\njerry: yes. generally that's where scuba diving is done. \n\nhelen: what do you have to go underwater for? what's down there that's so special? \n\njerry: what's so special up here? \n\nelaine: oh! \n\nhelen: what's the matter? \n\nelaine: my back. \n\nhelen: what happened? \n\nelaine: that... that bed. the bar was right in my back. \n\nhelen: (to jerry) i told you to let us sleep in there. \n\njerry: then you would be hunched over. \n\nelaine: i don't even know if i can go scuba diving. \n\njerry: you can't go? \n\nhelen: so stay home. \n\nelaine: you can go. \n\njerry: without you? that's the whole reason you came down here. \n\nhelen: don't go. \n\njerry: you sure? \n\nmorty: maybe you should see a doctor. \n\njerry: we'll stay in a hotel tonight. \n\nelaine: (whispering to jerry) yes! \n\nhelen: no, we'll stay in there. \n\njerry: why don't you get a new sofa? \n\nmorty: nobody uses it. \n\njerry: i'm buying you a new sofa. \n\nhelen: oh jerry, don't talk crazy. \n\nelaine: mrs seinfeld, please. i am begging you. put the air conditioner on. \n\nhelen: you're hot? \n\nelaine: i've lost 6 pounds. \n\nhelen: i don't even know how to work it. \n\nmorty: i keep telling her it's like an oven in here. \n\nevelyn: is everybody up? \n\njerry: hi. how are you? \n\nevelyn: hello jerry. \n\njerry: evelyn, this is elaine. \n\nelaine: (with pain) hi evelyn. \n\nevelyn: jerry you got thin. \n\njerry: too thin? \n\nhelen: oh stop worrying so much about how you look. \n\nevelyn: so where's the new pen? (everybody's surprised by this question) \n\njerry: (jerry scratches his head and acts like he's not sure what she's talking about) what? \n\nevelyn: the pen. the one jack klompus gave you. \n\nhelen: how did you know that? \n\nevelyn: blanche told me. \n\nhelen: blanche? \n\nevelyn: that's some good pen. it writes upside down. \n\nelaine: the astronauts use them. \n\nhelen: what did blanche say? \n\nevelyn: i don't know. she said jerry wanted the pen. \n\njerry: i never really wanted the pen. \n\nmorty: he gave him the pen. \n\nhelen: morty. \n\nevelyn: why you don't like the pen? \n\njerry: no, no, i... \n\nevelyn: cause if you don't like it, give it back to him. \n\nhelen: is that what she said? \n\nevelyn: who? \n\nhelen: blanche. \n\nevelyn: what are you talking about? \n\nhelen: hello? oh hello gussy. what? jerry wouldn't do that. jack gave it to him. all he said was he liked it. i mean nobody put a gun to his head. (to jerry) you're giving him back that pen. (she continues the discussion with gussy but we don't hear it.) \n\nelaine: somebody please-- the air conditioner! \n\nmorty: (morty gets up) oh! i forgot all about it. \n\njerry: all i said was \"i like the pen\". \n\nmorty: how the hell do you work this thing? \n\n[setting: still the condo, later] \n\nhelen: maybe you shouldn't go tonight. \n\nelaine: no no, i wanna go. \n\nhelen: but your back hurts. \n\nmorty: maybe a couple of muscle relaxers would help. \n\nelaine: oh, oh, o.k. (helen holds her sweater tight against herself) you can turn down the air conditioning if you want. \n\nhelen: no. i'm fine. \n\nelaine: you're not too cold? \n\nhelen: no. \n\njerry: don't be alarmed. \n\nmorty: oh my god! what the hell happened to you? \n\njerry: i'm o.k. my capillaries burst. \n\nhelen: your capillaries? do you know what you look like? \n\njerry: (to elaine on the floor) how are you doing? \n\nelaine: having a good time! \n\njerry: is it my imagination or is it freezing in here? \n\nhelen: what happened to your eyes? \n\njerry: well i started to go under... \n\nhelen: with the instructor? \n\njerry: yeah, and i got about ten feet down and i felt this tremendous pressure on my mask. like my eyeballs were being sucked out of their sockets. \n\nhelen: i told you... \n\njack: excuse me. (to helen) doris would like to borrow red your pocketbook to go with her shoes. (to elaine on the floor) the shoes have to match the pocketbook. (to the others) what's she doing? yoga? \n\nelaine: my back hurts. \n\njack: morty you gotta hurry up. get ready. \n\nmorty: we got plenty of time. \n\njack: (to jerry) what happened to you? \n\njerry: i got in a fist fight with one of the ladies at the pool. \n\nhelen: it's from scuba diving. \n\njack: what's there to see underwater? \n\n(helen turns to jerry and makes a face like: give him back the pen) \n\njerry: listen m. klompus, it was really a nice gesture of you to give me the pen, but i don't really need it. \n\njack: you what? \n\njerry: i mean it's a terrific pen, but i think you should keep it. (he hands the pen to jack) \n\njack: well i mean... \n\njerry: take it. \n\njack: all right! (he smiles and take it) \n\nmorty: you know jack, you've got a hell of a nerve taking that kid's pen. \n\njack: whose pen? \n\nmorty: his pen. \n\njack: this happens to be my pen. \n\nmorty: you didn't give it to him. \n\njack: what are you talking about? he pratically begged me for it. \n\nmorty: where do you come off with this crap? \n\njack: listen, do you think i take everything everybody offers me? you offered me sponge cake yesterday. did i take it? \n\nmorty: you said you didn't want it! \n\njack: of course i wanted it! i love sponge cake! \n\nmorty: then who the hell said you couldn't have any? i mean what the hell do i care whether you have sponge cake? \n\njack: because i saw the look on your face last week when i took the scotch tape! \n\nmorty: ahh! ahh! so you got the scotch tape! i've been looking all over for it! \n\njack: don't worry about it! i'll give it back! \n\nmorty: i don't want it! \n\njack: i don't want it! \n\nmorty: you know jack, do me a favor will you? take the pen and the scotch tape, and get the hell out of here! \n\njack: listen do you think i give a damn? \n\nmorty: aah! (jack leaves) the nerve of that guy! taking back that pen. well that's it for them. \n\njerry: what is going on in this community! are you people aware of what's happening? what is driving you to this behavior? is it the humudity? is it the muzak? is it the white shoes? \n\nhelen: i have no use for either one of them. i don't even want them there tonight. (she still has the pocketbook in her hands) \n\njerry: isn't he supposed to be the emcee? \n\nmorty: yeah, he's supposed to be the emcee. \n\njerry: well. this should be a very interesting evening. \n\nelaine: (still on the floor) uh... what about those muscle relaxers? \n\n[setting: reception room, evening] \n\nphotographer: say astronaut. \n\nelaine: say what? (laughing) say what? \n\njerry: (jerry brings her back) you took too many of those pills. \n\nmorty: astronaut? \n\nhelen: say it. \n\njerry, morty and helen: astronaut! \n\nelaine: (still laughing, she says it just as the picture is taking) astro...naut! \n\nmorty: good. o.k. (the photographer walks away) what about last year when i took him to the hospital every day? did he ever say thank you? \n\njerry: oh god. (foreseeing an arm's grabbing as he sees uncle leo entering with his wife stella) \n\njerry: (to leo) uncle leo. \n\nleo: hello! \n\nstella: morty are you nervous? \n\nmorty: what nervous? \n\nleo: (to jerry while he's grabbing his arm as usual) what's with the sunglasses? who are you? van johnson? \n\njerry: i've got a black eye. \n\nstella: (to elaine in a childish voice) hello. \n\njerry: oh uh, elaine, this is my aunt stella. \n\nhelen: (shouting as she imitates marlon brando) stella! stella! \n\njerry: (to stella) her back hurts. \n\nstella: humm... we saw you on \"the tonight show\" last week. \n\nleo: i thought johnny was very rude to you. he didn't even let you talk. \n\njerry: no, no. \n\nleo: you need some new material. i've heard you do that dog routine three times already. \n\nelaine: (still with her imitation, shouting even louder) stella! stella! \n\nleo: listen, you should get your cousin jeffrey to write some material for you. \n\nmorty: what are you talking? jeffrey works for the parks department! \n\nleo: you should read the letters he's written. he's funnier than the whole bunch of you! (jack enters with doris) oh, here's jack. we should sit down. \n\nstella: (to helen on a sarcastic tone of voice) this better be good. i'm missing \"golden girls\" for this. \n\nhelen: (laughing hypocritically till stella walks away) i hate her like poison. \n\n(a few minutes later, the ceremony is about to begin. someone in the crowd yells: \"hey jack let's get started!\" everyone applause and we see, from left to right, all sitting on the same side of a long table, facing the public stella, leo, elaine, jerry, helen, morty, jack at the microphone, doris, and four other people.) \n\njack: (on the microphone) ladies and gentlemen, as you know, every year, phase two of the pines of mark gables honors the previous year president. and this year we are honoring morty seinfeld (the crowd applause and someone yells morty!) a man who slept more hours on the job than ronald reagan. \n\nmorty: (to helen) slept on the job? (she shushed him) \n\njack: being president of the condo is not easy. it requires hard work, dedication, and commitment, and unfortunately he possesses none of these qualities. (everyone laugh except jerry, helen, and morty. even elaine who's still druggy) \n\nhelen: (morty complains again to helen) he's joking. \n\njack: his administration did excel in one department the hiring of incompetents. \n\nmorty: (to jack, loud) that's what you say. \n\njack: but we do owe him a debt of gratitude because by not fixing the crack in the sidewalk, he put mrs ziven out of commission for a few weeks. (morty is now the only one not laughing) \n\nmorty: (loud) tell them when you took my son's pen back. tell them about that! (he gets up) \n\njerry: dad! \n\nmorty: (to the crowd) he gave my son a pen, and then he takes it back. tell them about that! \n\njack: he gave it to me! \n\nmorty: come on. that's enough, sit down! \n\njack: i'm not sitting down! \n\njack: ow! you broke my dental plate! (jack is touching his dental plate while morty reaches in jack's pocket to get the pen) doris! he broke my dental plate. you son-of-a-bitch! i'm gonna sue you. (he leaves the table and morty follows him and continue arguing with him. jerry now have the microphone in his hands and the crowd begins to think the ceremony is over.) \n\nhelen: jerry, do your act. \n\njerry: (in the microphone, but to helen) i can't. nobody's even listening. \n\nhelen: they're all gonna leave. \n\njerry: (to himself) oh god! (in the microphone) huh... hey! how you folks doing tonight? (everybody in the crowd is talking over jerry) \n\nman in the crowd: who are you? \n\njerry: (still with his sunglasses) have you ever noticed how they always give you the peanuts on the planes? \n\nwoman in the crowd: (to heckle jerry) not my harry. he flies first class. \n\njerry: who ever thought the first thing somebody wants on a plane is a peanut? \n\nman in the crowd: i'd rather have a bottle of scotch! \n\nhelen: (to jerry) do the dog routine. \n\njerry: all i said was i liked the pen! \n\nelaine: (wakes up and yells very loud) stella! \n\n[setting: condo, morning] \n\nchiropractor: you could aggravate it. i wouldn't go anywhere for at least five days. \n\nelaine: five days? you want me to stay here for five more days? \n\njerry: there must be some mistake. \n\nchiropractor: i'm afraid not. \n\nelaine: (discouraged) five days. here. \n\nhelen: (to jerry, happily) so we have you for five more days! \n\njerry: (to elaine) well there's really no point in me staying. i mean you just gonna be... \n\nelaine: excuse me? \n\njerry: nothing. \n\nevelyn: good morning. \n\njerry: hi evelyn. \n\nevelyn: (to helen) has morty decided on a lawyer yet? \n\nhelen: i don't think so. \n\nevelyn: because my nephew larry could do it. he's a brilliant lawyer. he says jack has no case. \n\nhelen: well i'll ask him when he gets up. \n\nevelyn: oh, and i spoke to arnold. and he says that according to the bylaws of the condo constitution, they need six votes to throw you out for unruly behavior. not five. doctor chernov is the one you'll have to suck up to. \n\nmorty: aw! aw! oh my back! oh my back! it's that bar. who the hell could sleep on that thing? \n\nhelen: i was very comfortable. \n\nevelyn: morty, arnold says they need six votes to throw you out. \n\nhelen: it's in the constitution. \n\nmorty: (to the chiro) who are you? \n\nchiropractor: i'm a chiropractor. \n\nmorty: what are you kidding me? \n\nelaine: (to jerry) five more days? \n\njerry: well today's almost over. and weekdays always go by fast. friday we're leaving. it's like two days really. it's like a cup of coffee. it will go by like that. (snapping his fingers) \n\n[setting: night club, closing monologue] \n\njerry: is florida not hot and muggy enough for these people? they love heat. i mean if they ever decide to land men on the sun, i think these old retired guys would be the only ones that will be able to handle it. they'll just sit there on the sun, on the redwood benches, washcloth on the head going \"close the door, you're letting all the heat off the sun. i'm trying to get a sweat going.\" \n\njerry: so i'm on the plane, we left late. pilot says we're going to be making up some time in the air. i thought, well isn't that interesting. we'll just make up time. that's why you have to reset your watch when you land. of course, when they say they're making up time, obviously they're increasing the speed of the aircraft. now, my question is if you can go faster, why don't you just go as fast as you can all the time? c'mon, there's no cops up here, nail it. give it some gas! we're flying! \n\ngavin: travelling, of course, is the best education. do you know last year i was in over forty, forty-five countries, and i would have gone to more but i had just got a puppy, and he was too young to take with me. but now i won't travel without him. \n\njerry: is he on the plane now? \n\ngavin: oh yes. yes, he's in the, he's in the baggage compartment. i don't know why they won't let him sit up here with me. he's a lot better behaved than most of the dregs you find onboard here. do you, do you have any pets? \n\njerry: uh, just my next door neighbor. \n\ngavin: you're missing out on a relationship that could enrich your life in ways that you never could have thought possible. \n\njerry: howbout picking up their, you know. you find that enriching? \n\njerry: what's the matter? \n\ngavin: oh, i'm feeling a bit queasy. \n\nattendant #1: sir, we're gonna make an emergency landing in chicago and get you to a hospital. \n\ngavin: my dog. what about my dog? \n\nattendant #1: uh, you have a dog? \n\nattendant #2: do you know anyone on the plane, mr. palone? \n\ngavin: jerry? \n\njerry: huh? how you feeling? \n\ngavin: would you take care of farfel? \n\njerry: farfel? \n\nattendant #2: it's his dog. we're landing in chicago to get him to a hospital, could you take his dog to new york? \n\njerry: the dog? the dog?? \n\ngavin: i'm sure it's only for a day or two. \n\njerry: but, you know, what if, you know? \n\ngavin: give me your address and phone number, i'll call you. \n\njerry: the dog? \n\njerry: let go, farfel! let go, gimme that! gimme the sneaker you stupid idiot! shut up! (to elaine) so what would you do? \n\nelaine: well it's only been three days, i'm sure he's gonna call. \n\njerry (to farfel): stop it! shut uuuuuup!!! (to elaine) do you believe this? do you believe what i'm dealing with here, i've got a wild animal in the house! he's deranged, maybe he's got rabies. i can get lockjaw. \n\nelaine: if only. \n\njerry: look at this place. he's going everywhere, i can't go out of the house at night. i haven't performed in three days. this'll be my first night out of the house since i got back. \n\nelaine: hey, when you walk him, do ya... \n\njerry: do i what? \n\nelaine: do you pick it up? \n\njerry: yes, i pick it up. \n\nelaine: you pick it up?!? \n\njerry: well you have to. \n\nelaine: oh, boy would i love to see that. \n\njerry: shut up!! shut up farfel, stop it! (to elaine) i don't know what to do. i mean what if i take it to the pound then the guy shows up? \n\nelaine: maybe you should call the airline, they might know where he is. \n\njerry: no, i tried. they don't know anything. (notices elaine making egg creams) you gotta put the syrup in first. \n\nelaine: no, milk. \n\njerry: i'm telling you the guy's a drunk, he's probably on a bender. \n\nelaine: what is a bender anyhow? \n\njerry: i don't know, they drink and they bend things at the bar. \n\nelaine: i can't believe he hasn't called. \n\njerry: two hundred seats on a plane, i gotta wind up next to yukon jack and his dog cujo. shut up! one more day and you are pound bound! \n\nkramer: sorry, i can't watch the dog tonight. \n\njerry: why? \n\nelaine: we're going to the movies, we're gonna see prognosis negative. \n\nkramer: i can't, i gotta get this ellen out of my life. \n\njerry: you're breaking up? \n\nkramer: oh ho ho ho yeah, the sooner the better. i can't wait to do it. you know how there's some people you worry about whether you're going to hurt their feelings? with her, i'm looking forward to it. i'd like to get it on video, watch it in slow motion and freeze frame it. oh ho, yeah. \n\nelaine: kramer, i don't know how you lasted as long as you did. \n\nkramer: woah, you didn't like her? \n\nelaine: if you could see her personality it would be like one of the elephant man exhibits, you know where they pull off the sheet and everyone gasps. \n\njerry: i can't believe someone hasn't killed her yet. \n\nkramer: how come you never said anything? \n\njerry: well you can't tell someone how you feel about their girlfriend until after they stop seeing them. \n\nkramer: i tell you. \n\njerry: you. i'm talking about people. \n\nelaine: are we still going to the movies tonight? \n\njerry: no, i can't i gotta watch farfel, you and george can go without me. \n\nelaine: just me and george? \n\njerry: sure. \n\nelaine: but we need you. \n\njerry: what do you need me for? \n\nelaine: because... yeah? \n\ngeorge: prognosis negative! (in a funny voice) \n\nelaine: because i relate to george through you, we're like friends-in-law. besides, you said we were gonna see prognosis negative together. can't you just put some newspapers down or something? \n\njerry: no, i can't trust him, he gets insane. i won't enjoy myself. that's right, farfel, i'm talking about you! \n\nelaine: just me and george alone? \n\ngeorge: let's go, people, let's go! it's prognosis negative time, wa ha ha ha!!! \n\njerry: i can't go. \n\ngeorge: can't go, why not? \n\njerry: because i have to watch idiot farfel. \n\ngeorge: i thought kramer was watching. \n\njerry: he's breaking up with his girlfriend tonight. \n\ngeorge: well so what's the problem, you just put some newspaper down. \n\njerry: no, i don't want that smell in the house. \n\ngeorge: you spritz a little lysol on it. \n\njerry: no, it's like bo and cologne, they combine forces into some kind of strange mutant funk. \n\ngeorge: so we're not going? \n\njerry: nah. you two go. \n\ngeorge: oh. you still wanna go? \n\nelaine: do, do you? \n\ngeorge: if you want. \n\nelaine: it,s, it's up to you. \n\njerry: go ahead. \n\nelaine: well, it's, i really wanted to see prognosis negative with jerry, uh, you wanna see ponce de leon? \n\ngeorge: ponce de leon? okay. (to jerry) you sure you don't wanna go? \n\njerry: i want to but i can't. \n\nelaine: oh! i tell you what. how about if i come back here first and i clean everything up and i open up the windows and if you're still not satisfied we can switch apartments for the night. \n\njerry: no. \n\ngeorge: what about this-- \n\njerry: forget it. go ahead, you'll have a good time. \n\nelaine: i know, it's not that. \n\ngeorge: it's just we want you to go. \n\njerry: well, thank you very much. i'm telling you, one more day stinkbreath! \n\njerry: on my block, a lot of ah, people walk their dogs, and i always see them walking along with their little poop bags, which to me is just the lowest function of human life. if aliens are watching this through telescopes, they're gonna think the dogs are the leaders. if you see two life forms, one of them's making a poop, the other one's carrying it for him, who would you assume was in charge? \n\ngeorge: so how long did you live there? \n\nelaine: about three years. \n\ngeorge: that's pretty long. \n\nelaine: hmm. \n\ngeorge: it's not that long, really. \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\ngeorge: and then you came here. \n\nelaine: yeah. so i've been here about six years. \n\ngeorge (counting on his fingers): eighty-six, eighty-seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine, ninety, ninety-one... yup. \n\njerry: bad dog! bad dog! you go outside! outside!! what do you want from me? tell me! money, you want money? i'll give you money, how much?! \n\nkramer: i must have been out of my mind. look at you. why don't you do something with your life? sit around here all day, you contribute nothing to society. you're just taking up space. how could i be with someone like you? wouldn't respect myself. \n\ngeorge: i like herbal tea. \n\ngeorge: chamomile's good. lemon lift. almond pleasure. \n\nelaine: jerry likes morning thunder. \n\ngeorge: jerry drinks morning thunder? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\ngeorge: morning thunder has caffeine in it, jerry doesn't drink caffeine. \n\nelaine: jerry doesn't know morning thunder has caffeine in it. \n\ngeorge: you don't tell him? \n\nelaine (laughing): no. and you should see him, man, he gets all hyper, he doesn't even know why, he loves it! he walks around, going, \"god, i feel great!\" \n\ngeorge (laughing): you don't tell him? \n\nelaine: no. \n\ngeorge: that is so funny! \n\nelaine: i know! \n\ngeorge: wait, have you ever seen him throw up?! \n\nkramer: please! please!! i take it all back, everything! i take it all back, every word! i love you! i love *you*! i can't live without you, i,ll, i'll do anything! \n\njerry: that's right, gavin palone. what? are you sure? he was released on monday? *last* monday? did he leave a phone number or address? unbelievable. well thank you, thanks, thanks very much. (hangs up) that's it, farfel! party's over! start packing up your little squeeze toys buddy boy, you're checking out! \n\nelaine: it was weird because george and i get along so great in so many situations but this is the first time we ever really went one-on-one. \n\njerry: oh, one-on-one's a whole different game. can't pass off. \n\nelaine: the only time it wasn't uncomfortable was when we were making fun of you. \n\njerry: going to the dog pound, everybody! going to the dog pound, come on down. (to elaine) what? \n\nelaine: do you have to? \n\njerry: what am i supposed to do? i don't want to do it. i like dogs. i'm not sure this is a dog. \n\nelaine: you know, the guy might have just lost your number. \n\njerry: i'm in the book and i have a machine. \n\nelaine: jerry, do you know what they do to dogs at the pound? they keep them there for a week and then if nobody claims them, they kill them. \n\njerry: really? how late are they open? \n\njerry: what? \n\nelaine: what is it? \n\nkramer: i went back with ellen. \n\njerry and elaine: ohhhhh, that's great. \n\nelaine: terrific. \n\njerry: yeah, i really think you guys are good together. \n\nelaine: yes, she understands you and she is not demanding. \n\nkramer: do you think that i forgot what you two said about her? \n\njerry: well i was just trying to be supportive, you know. i knew you were upset. \n\nkramer: from now on when we pass each other in the hall, i don't know you, you don't know me. \n\nelaine: oh, kramer, we didn't mean it. \n\njerry: what are you doing? \n\nkramer: i'm getting my pot. \n\nelaine: kramer, we like her. \n\njerry: kramer? what did we say that's so bad? \n\nelaine: i believe i referred to her personality as a potential science exhibit. \n\njerry: i said, \"how come no one's killed her?\" probably shouldn't have said anything, \n\njerry: well. \n\nelaine: well. \n\njerry: everyone knows the first break-up never takes. (answers buzzer) yeah? \n\ngeorge: prognosis negative! (again in a funny voice) \n\njerry: okay, farfel, put your shoes on. \n\nelaine: jerry, can't you just give it one more day, it's not his fault. \n\njerry: it's not my dog, i don't know where this boozehound is. \n\nelaine: alright, i tell you what. how about if you and george go to the movies, and i stay here and watch the dog tonight. \n\njerry: i can't let you do that, what about prognosis negative? \n\nelaine: we'll see it sunday. \n\ngeorge: tonight's the night, right? prognosis negative? \n\nelaine: i'm not going, i'm gonna watch the dog. \n\ngeorge: what does this mean? \n\njerry: well, we'll go see something else tonight. we'll see, uh, ponce de leon. \n\ngeorge: what is with this dog, i thought we were taking it to the pound. \n\njerry: she talked me into one more day. talk amongst yourselves, i'm gonna go to the bathroom. \n\ngeorge: uh jerry, how long will you be in there? \n\njerry: i don't know, regular human time? \n\ngeorge: uh why don't you wait then go in the movies? \n\njerry: why shouldn't i go here? \n\nelaine: well, you know, i mean, sometimes it's good to get there and make sure you get your seats and then go to the bathroom. \n\ngeorge: and isn't it more fun using the urinal? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\njerry: oh yeah, urinals are fun. can i go?! \n\ngeorge: hey, go. \n\nelaine: who's stopping you? \n\ngeorge: what, are you doing me a favor? \n\nelaine: like we care if you go to the bathroom. \n\ngeorge: how's it going? \n\nelaine: good. good. you? \n\ngeorge: things are good. \n\nelaine: boy, he takes such a long time. \n\ngeorge: i know. \n\nelaine: you know what he does in there? he gargles. \n\ngeorge: jerry gargles? is that why he takes so long? \n\nelaine: yeah, he does it like six times a day. \n\ngeorge: how come we never hear him? \n\nelaine: because he does it quiet. he does it quiet. lookit, just like this, watch. \n\ngeorge: wait, wait, did you ever see him throw up?! \n\nelaine: we talked about that already. \n\ngeorge: oh. \n\ngeorge: i have nothing to say to anybody. i'm so uninteresting. i think i'm out of conversation. \n\njerry: so what are calling me six times a day? \n\ngeorge: all i know about is sports. that's it. no matter how depressed i get, i could always read the sports section. \n\njerry: i could read the sports section if my hair was on fire. \n\ngeorge: know what? ponce de leon is sold out. \n\njerry: it is? oh yeah, you're right. what else is playing? \n\ngeorge: nothing except prognosis negative. \n\njerry: boy, i know she really wants to see that with me. \n\nelaine: gimme the jacket, furface, this is not seinfeld you're dealing with! when i get through with you, you'll be begging to go to the pound! \n\nelaine: shut up. shut up! (answers phone) hello? no, who's calling? oh my god, the dog guy. where have *you* been? yeah, well you better pick up your dog tonight or he has humped his last leg. \n\ngeorge: i mean, i could understand if there was something else playing, but it's this or nothing. \n\njerry: i don't know what to do. \n\ngeorge: what is this 'saving movies' thing? something's playing, you go. \n\njerry: i know, i know. \n\ngeorge: so, what? we're gonna do nothing now, this is crazy. \n\njerry: it is kind of silly. \n\ngeorge: of course it is. \n\njerry: i mean, it's just a movie, for god's sake. \n\ngeorge: exactly. \n\njerry: it's not like she's *in* the movie. \n\ngeorge: right. \n\njerry: am i supposed to ruin the whole night because she wants to see it? i mean, if i could have seen it with her, fine. but i can't control all these circumstances and schedules and peoples' availabilities at movies. \n\ngeorge: and she'll still see it, you're not stopping her from seeing it. \n\njerry: how does sitting next to a person in a movie theater increase the level of enjoyment? you can't talk during a movie. you know, this is stupid, c'mon, let's just go. \n\ngeorge: good. \n\njerry: saving movies. \n\ngeorge: ridiculous! \n\njerry: two for prognosis negative. i'm in big trouble. \n\ngeorge: oh, you're dead. \n\ngavin: bell's palsy. the entire side of my, of, of my face was paralyzed. farfel! i couldn't, i couldn't, i couldn't even feed myself, i was completely incapacitated. quiet farfel! \n\njerry: you know it's interesting, because i called the hospital and they said you were released on monday. \n\ngavin: yes, yes, that's true, but then i was taken to the bell's palsy center in, in, in, in rockford. absolutely first, first rate facility, top notch physicians. \n\nkramer: hey, c'mon, c'mon, get off me! \n\ngavin: he won't hurt you, he's just playing. \n\nkramer: hey you keep that mutt away from me. \n\ngavin: mutt? i'll wager his parents are more pure than yours. \n\nellen: kramer, are you coming? \n\njerry: oh, hi ellen. \n\nellen: get in here. \n\njerry: listen, it's really been a pleasure taking care of your dog for a week, but if you don't mind... \n\ngavin: pre-prediction. you'll be calling me to ask if you can come and visit him before the month is out. \n\njerry: prediction. i never see you or him again for the rest of my life. \n\nelaine: we made plans. \n\njerry: why don't we just rent a movie? \n\nelaine: i thought you wanted to see prognosis negative. \n\njerry: no, it&mac226;s, it's supposed to be really bad, *really* bad. i mean it's long, there's no story, it's so unbelievably boring, i heard. i... \n\nelaine: jerry, you promised me we'd go. \n\njerry: well, george told me the whole story, line for line, i mean i almost feel like i've seen it already and walked out on it. \n\nelaine: wait, george saw the movie? i saw him yesterday, he didn't mention it. \n\njerry: you and george got together? \n\nelaine: yeah, i wanted to talk about how we have nothing to talk about. \n\njerry: hello. \n\nkramer: hi, hi, hi, hi, hi. \n\njerry: what's up? \n\nkramer: well, ah you were right. \n\njerry: about what? \n\nkramer: ellen. we, uh, broke up again. \n\njerry and elaine, together: awwwwww. \n\njerry: too bad. \n\nelaine: i thought she was the one. \n\nkramer: i'll bring back the pot. \n\nelaine: okay, c'mon it's movie time. \n\nkramer: hey, what are you gonna see? \n\njerry: prognosis negative. \n\nkramer: hey, that's supposed to be great. \n\njerry: it's not. \n\nkramer: how do you know? \n\njerry: i have an instinct for these things. \n\njerry: i had a parakeet when i was a kid, that was the only pet that i really enjoyed. we used to let him out of his cage, and he would fly around and my mother had built, one entire wall of our living room was mirrored. she felt this gives you a feeling of space. have you ever heard this interior design principle that a mirror makes it seem like you have an entire other room? what kind of a jerk walks up to a mirror and goes, \"hey look, there's a whole nother room in there. there's a guy in there looks just like me.\" but the parakeet will fall for this, you'll let him out of his cage, he flies around the room, bang! with his little head, he would just go 'click' ohh! and i'd always think, even if he thinks the mirror is another room, why doesn't he at least try to avoid hitting the other parakeet? \n\njerry: does it seem to you that the ventriloquist dummy has a very active sexual social life? he's always talking about dates and women that he knows and bringing them back to the suitcase at night, there's always a sawdust joke in there somewhere you know, kinky things cuz he's made out of wood an' he can spin his head around, we're somehow expected to believe because the face is soo animated that they think we aren't noticing that the feet are just swinging there, dummy feet never look right do they? they're just kinda dangling there, always kinda askew you know? you always see just little ankle, those thin fabric ankles that they have you know. ya think 'i don't think this thing is real.' \n\njerry: let me speak with the head librarian. ... because it's absurd. an overdue book from 1971? ... this is a joke right? what are you? from a radio station? \n\nkramer: enters \n\njerry: ya' got me i fell for it. alright, ok i can be down there in like a half hour. bye. \n\nkramer: what's the problem? \n\njerry: this you're not goin' to believe. the nypl says that i took out tropic of cancer in 1971 and never returned it. \n\nkramer: do you know how much that comes to? that's a nickel a day for 20 years. it's going to be $50,000 \n\njerry: it doesn't work like that. \n\nkramer: if it's a dime a day it could be $100,000 \n\njerry: it's not going to be anything. i returned the book. i remember it very vividly because i was with sherry becker. she wore this orange dress. it was the first time i ever saw her in a dress like that. in oticed since ninth grade she was developing this body in secret under these loose clothes for like two years. and then one day ... \n\njerry: that orange dress is burned in my memory \n\nkramer: oh, memory burn. \n\njerry: i wonder what ever happened to her. \n\nkramer: how did they ever find you? \n\njerry: oh, computers, they're cracking down now on overdue books. the whole thing is completely ridiculous. \n\njerry: it's george. wait 'til he hears we're going to the library \n\nkramer: you know i never got a library card. \n\njerry: (to speaker) coming down. \n\nkramer: it's all a bunch of cheapskates in there anyway. people sitting around reading the newspaper attached to huge wooden sticks trying to save a quarter, ooh, \n\njerry: i gotta go to the library. you want to go? \n\nkramer: yeah, \n\nkramer: the dewey decimal system, what a scam that was. boy that dewey guy really cleaned up on that deal. \n\njerry: where's george \n\nreader: shhh. \n\nkramer: tryin' to save a quarter. \n\njerry: i kinda like those sticks. i'd like to get them in my house. \n\njerry: this woman's completely ignoring me. \n\nkramer: look at her. this is a lonely woman looking for companionship.. ... spinster. ... maybe a virgin. ... maybe she got hurt a long time ago. she was a schoolgirl. there was a boy it didn't work out. now she needs a little tenderness. she needs a little understanding. she needs a little kramer. \n\njerry: eventually a little shot of penicillin \n\nlibrarian: yes? \n\njerry: yeah i called before. i got his notice in the mail. \n\nlibrarian: oh, tropic of cancer, henry miller, uh, this case has been turned over to our library investigation officer mr. bookman. \n\nkramer: bookman? the library investigator's name is actually, bookman? \n\nlibrarian: it's true. \n\nkramer: that's amazing. that's like an ice cream man named, cone. \n\nlibrarian: lt. bookman has been working here for 25 years so i think he's heard all the jokes. \n\njerry: can i speak with this bookman? \n\nlibrarian: just a second. \n\ngeorge: jerry, jerry \n\njerry: what? \n\ngeorge: i think i saw him. i think it's him. \n\njerry: who? \n\ngeorge: did you see the homeless guy on the library steps screaming obsenities and doing some calesthetics routine \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nkramer: yeah \n\ngeorge: i think that's mr. hayman. ...the gym teacher from our high school. \n\nreader: shhh. \n\njerry: (whispers) haymen, are you sure? \n\ngeorge: he's older, completely covered in filth, no whistle, but i think it's him. \n\njerry: george got him fired. he squealed on him. \n\nkramer: ooh tattle tale \n\ngeorge: (yells) i didn't tattle \n\nreader: shh shh \n\nkramer: what did this guy do? what happened? \n\ngeorge: there was an incident. i'd rather not discuss it. \n\nkramer: oh come on, you can tell me. \n\ngeorge: some other time. \n\nkramer: what tonight? \n\nkramer: y'know i never figured you for a squealer. \n\njerry: oh, he sang like a canary. \n\nlibrarian: mr. bookman's not here. \n\njerry: not here? why was i told to come down here? \n\nlibrarian: he'll be out all afternoon on a case. \n\nkramer: he's out on a case? he actually goes out on cases? \n\njerry: well what am i supposed to do now? \n\nlibrarian: i'll have mr. bookman get in touch with you. \n\njerry: all right thanks. come on lets go \n\ngeorge: let's see if it's hayman? \n\nkramer: hey, uh, i'll see you boys later. (turns to librarian) so uh, what's a guy got to do around here to get a library card? \n\nelaine: where's karen? \n\nsecretary: she went to pick up lunch. \n\nelaine: well, she didn't ask me what i wanted. \n\nsecretary: she must have forgot. \n\nelaine: how could she forget i've been ordering lunch every day here for 3 and a half years? \n\nsecretary: i don't know anything. \n\nelaine: ah, you don't know anything. you see, \"i don't know anything\", means there's something to know. if you really didn't know anything you would have said \"you're crazy.\" \n\nelaine: oh, hi mr. lippman. \n\nlippman: elaine, \n\nelaine: um, uh, i was wondering if you got a chance to look at that , um, biography of columbus, i gave you? \n\nlippman: yes i did. yes i did. ... maureen this water is still too cold. \n\nelaine: ooh yeah, it's freezing. ... hurts your teeth. \n\nelaine: i'm tellin' ya' somethin' is goin' on. he never likes anything i recommend. and then that lunch thing. \n\njerry: so they forgot to get your lunch. big deal! \n\nelaine: what do you know. you've never worked in an office. (turns to george) see, george, you've worked in an office. jerry thinks i'm over reacting but you understand, ... lunch! \n\ngeorge: i don't understand lunch, i don't know anything about lunch. listen. just because i got the guy fired doesn't mean i turned him into a bum - does it? \n\nelaine: what did he do? \n\ngeorge: he purposely mispronounced my name. instead of saying, \"costanza\" he'd say, \"can't stand ja\". \"can't stand ja\" ... he made me smell my own gym socks once. \n\njerry: i remember he made you wear a jock on your head for a whole class. and the straps were hangin' down by his ,... \n\ngeorge: ok, ok, i never even had him for gym. \n\njerry: i had him for hygene. remember his teeth. it was like from an exhumed corpse. \n\ngeorge: little baked beans \n\njerry: echh \n\nelaine: come on tell me what happened. \n\ngeorge: well, ok. as i said the guy had it in for me. he actually failed me in gym. ... me! \n\ngeorge: ... those spastic shnitzer twins ... \n\nheyman: can't stand ja ... can't stand ja \n\ngeorge: yes, mr. hayman \n\nheyman: your underwear was stick'n out of your shorts during gym class. \n\ngeorge: well i guess that's because i wear boxer shorts. \n\nheyman: boxer shorts, ha ha, well what brand? \n\ngeorge: i'm not really sure, i... \n\nheyman: well let's take a look. \n\ngeorge: he gave me a wedgie. \n\njerry: he got fired the next day. \n\nelaine: why do they call it a wedgie? \n\ngeorge: because the underwear is pulled up from the back and ... it wedges in.. \n\njerry: they also have an atomic wedgie. now the goal there is to actually get the waistband on top of the head. very rare. \n\nelaine: boys are sick. \n\njerry: well what do girls do ? \n\nelaine: we just tease some one 'til they develop an eating disorder. guy who ruined his life. \n\ngeorge: i gotta go back to the library and talk to him. i gotta find out if i&mac226;m the guy who ruined his life. \n\nkramer: hey babaloo, you better get home. you know this guy bookman from the library he's waiting for ya. \n\njerry: what's amazing to me about the library is it's a place where you go in you can take out any book you whant they just give it to you and say bring it back when you're done. it reminds me of like this pathetic friend that everbody had when they were a little kid who would let you borrow any of his stuff if you would just be his friend. that's what the library is. a government funded pathetic friend. and that's why everybody kinds of bullies the library. i'll bring it back on time ... i'll bring it back late. ... oh, what are you going to do? charge me a nickel? \n\njerry: oh, i'm glad you're here, so we can get this all straightened out. would you like a cup of tea? \n\nbookman: you got any coffee? \n\njerry: coffee? \n\nbookman: yeah. coffee. \n\njerry: no, i don't drink coffee. \n\nbookman: yeah, you don't drink coffee? how about instant coffee? \n\njerry: no, i don't have-- \n\nbookman: you don't have any instant coffee? \n\njerry: well, i don't normally-- \n\nbookman: who doesn't have instant coffee? \n\njerry: i don't. \n\nbookman: you buy a jar of folger's crystals, you put it in the cupboard, you forget about it. then later on when you need it, it's there. it lasts forever. it's freeze-dried. freeze-dried crystals. \n\njerry: really? i'll have to remember that. \n\nbookman: you took this book out in 1971. \n\njerry: yes, and i returned it in 1971. \n\nbookman: yeah, '71. that was my first year on the job. bad year for libraries. bad year for america. hippies burning library cards, abby hoffman telling everybody to steal books. i don't judge a man by the length of his hair or the kind of music he listens to. rock was never my bag. but you put on a pair of shoes when you walk into the new york public library, fella. \n\njerry: look, mr. bookman. i--i returned that book. i remember it very specifically. \n\nbookman: you're a comedian, you make people laugh. \n\njerry: i try. \n\nbookman: you think this is all a big joke, don't you? \n\njerry: no, i don't. \n\nbookman: i saw you on t.v. once; i remembered your name--from my list. i looked it up. sure enough, it checked out. you think because you're a celebrity that somehow the law doesn't apply to you, that you're above the law? \n\njerry: certainly not. \n\nbookman: well, let me tell you something, funny boy. y'know that little stamp, the one that says \"new york public library\"? well that may not mean anything to you, but that means a lot to me. one whole hell of a lot. sure, go ahead, laugh if you want to. i've seen your type before flashy, making the scene, flaunting convention. yeah, i know what you're thinking. what's this guy making such a big stink about old library books? well, let me give you a hint, junior. maybe we can live without libraries, people like you and me. maybe. sure, we're too old to change the world, but what about that kid, sitting down, opening a book, right now, in a branch at the local library and finding drawings of pee-pees and wee-wees on the cat in the hat and the five chinese brothers? doesn't he deserve better? look. if you think this is about overdue fines and missing books, you'd better think again. this is about that kid's right to read a book without getting his mind warped! or maybe that turns you on, seinfeld; maybe that's how y'get your kicks. you and your good-time buddies. well i got a flash for ya, joy-boy party time is over. y'got seven days, seinfeld. that is one week! \n\nkramer: what's wrong? \n\nmarion: it's bookman the library cop. \n\nkramer: so i, i didn't do anything wrong. \n\nmarion: i'm supposed to be at work. i could get fired. i shouldn't have come here. \n\nkramer: why don't ya' leave? \n\nmarion: i can't. \n\njerry: no way i'm payin' that! i returned that book in 1971. i have a witness sherry becker. she wore an orange dress. she gave me a piece of black jack gum. it's a licorice gum. what do ya' think of next i remember it. (thinks out loud, opens phone book) becker, ... becker, ... \n\nsherry: kevin went to a public school, he's the 14 year old? we were gonna' send marsha to a private school. cause in some way they don't learn ... enough ... i think. \n\njerry: so sherry, what do you remember about that day at the library? \n\nsherry: i remember it like it was yesterday. it was a friday afternoon. i wore a purple dress. \n\njerry: purple? ya' sure it wasn't orange? \n\nsherry: positive. and i was chewin' dentyne. i always chewed dentyne. remember jerry? dentyne? \n\njerry: no black jack? \n\nsherry: uch! licorice gum? never! we were ah, reading pasages to each other from that henry miller book, \n\njerry: tropic of cancer. \n\nsherry: no, tropic of capricorn \n\njerry: tropic of capricorn? \n\nsherry: rememba? what holds the world togetha' ... \"as i have learned from bitter experience is sexual intercourse .\" \n\njerry: wait a second. wait a second. you're right. i had both of them. \n\njerry: george, here's the book. don't let anybody see it. don't let anything happen to it. \n\ngeorge: jerry, it's me, george, don't worry, i'll return it \n\njerry: ok, i'll see you after school. i.m late for hayman's hygiene. \n\nsherry: where ya' going? \n\njerry: it was nice seeing you again. i just remembered something. i've got to go. (to old man that enters) it was george! \n\nkramer: read another poem. \n\nmarion: pressed chest fleshed out west might be the saviour or a garden pest. \n\nkramer: wow, that is great. you should be published. \n\nkramer: you know, the library is kind of a cool place when it's closed. \n\nmarian: oh, yeah. you don't have to be quiet. listen to the echo hello! \n\nkramer: hello! \n\nmarian: hello! \n\nkramer: hello! \n\nmarian: hello! \n\nbookman (emerging): hello! \n\nmarian (turning, surprised): mr. bookman. \n\nbookman: i remember when the librarian was a much older woman kindly, discreet, unattractive. we didn't know anything about her private life. we didn't want to know anything about her private life. she didn't have a private life. while you're thinking about that, think about this the library closes at five o'clock, no exceptions. this is your final warning. got that, kewpie-doll? \n\nelaine: lippman want's to see me in his office see me! that can't be good \n\njerry: maybe you're getting' a raise. \n\nelaine: maybe i'm getting' a wedgie. \n\nelaine: what? \n\ngeorge: it's george \n\nelaine: george is on his way up. \n\njerry: wait 'til i tell him about the book. \n\nkramer: (reading) sobs \n\nelaine: are you ok? what? what? \n\nkramer: it's marion's poetry. i can't take it (leaves sobbing) \n\nelaine: remember that biography i recommended? my boss hated it \n\njerry: i'm right here. \n\nelaine: remember that columbus book? \n\njerry: columbus, euro trash. \n\ngeorge: well, it's definetly him. \n\nelaine: him? him who? \n\ngeorge: him who? hayman him. \n\nelaine: hayman the gym teacher? you found him? \n\ngeorge: oh, i found him. he was sitting on the steps of the library. i sat down next to him. he smelled like the locker room after that game against erasmus \n\njerry: that was double overtime. \n\ngeorge: so i said, \"mr. hayman, it's me george costanza, jfk, ... \" he doesn't move. so i said uh, \"can't stand ya'\", \"can't stand ya'\" he turns and smiles, the little baked bean teeth. i get up to run away, but something was holding me back. it was heyman. he had my underwear. there i was on the steps of the 42nd st. library , a grown man, getting a wedgie. \n\nelaine: at least it wasn't atomic. \n\ngeorge: it was. \n\njerry: so georgie boy, guess what happened to tropic of cancer \n\ngeorge: how should i know? \n\njerry: because i gave it to you. \n\ngeorge: me? \n\njerry: yeah, think. don't you remember you kept begging me to see it then finally i agreed. you were supposed to return it. i met you in the gym locker room. \n\ngeorge: the locker room! \n\njerry: here's the book. don't let anybody see it. don't let anything happen to it. \n\ngeorge: jerry, it's me, george, don't worry, i'll return it tomorrow, no problem. \n\njerry: all right, i'll see you after school. i,,m late for hayman's hygiene. \n\nheyman: can't stand ya'. \n\ngeorge: yes mr. hayman. \n\nheyman: your underwear was stick'n out of your shorts during gym class. \n\ngeorge: well i guess that's because i wear boxer shorts. \n\nheyman: boxer shorts, ha? well what brand? \n\ngeorge: i'm not really sure, i... \n\nheyman: well let's take a look. \n\ngeorge: (shouting) no no no! \n\njerry: anyway, i hope there's no hard feelings. \n\nbookman: hard feelings? what do you know about hard feelings? y'ever have a man die in your arms? y'ever kill somebody? \n\njerry: what is your problem? \n\nbookman: what's my problem? punks like you, that's my problem. and you better not screw up again seinfeld, because if you do, i'll be all over you like a pitbull on a poodle. \n\njerry: (after bookman exits) that is one tough monkey! (turns to elaine) so you were saying? \n\nelaine: oh? so, i took your suggestion and i gave my boss marion's poems. the ones that affected kramer so much. \n\njerry: oh, beautiful did he like them? \n\nelaine: no, ... he didn't! no, ... he didn't! \n\njerry: (to george) was he out there? \n\ngeorge: na, he's gone. i wonder what happened to him. \n\njerry: i guess we'll never know. \n\nheyman: can't stand ya, (laughing) can't stand ya. (pan to tropic of cancer on ground) \n\njerry: any day that you had gym it was a weird school day, you know what i mean because it kind of like started of kind of normal. you have like english, geometry, social studies and then suddenly you're like in lord of the flies for 40 minutes you know you're hangin' from a rope. you have hardly any clothes on. teachers are yellin' at ya' \"where's your jock strap?\" ya' know and kids are throwin' dodge balls at you. you're tryin' to survive ... then its history, science, language. there's something off in the entire flow of that day. \n\n[act one scene a int. escalator - going down to a garage. in single file: george, jerry and elaine, who's carrying a plastic bag with goldfish, and kramer who's having a rough time with a large, heavy box.] \n\ngeorge: one left...what a joke. \n\nkramer: you can have this one. \n\ngeorge: no, that's not enough btus for my living room...that was a complete waste of time. \n\nelaine: hey, i didn't get one either. \n\njerry: why do i always have the feeling that everybody's doing something better than me on saturday afternoons? \n\nelaine: this is what people do. \n\njerry: no they don't. they're out on some big picnic. they're cooking burgers. they're making out on blankets. they're not at some mall in jersey watching their friends trying to find the world's cheapest air-conditioner. \n\ngeorge: you should see what my father used to go through before he bought a car. he'd go from state to state. he was away for weeks at a time. it was like he was running for president and he was going through the primaries. we'd get phone calls from motels in new hampshire. \n\nelaine: so we took a little ride. what's the big deal? \n\ngeorge: well at least you accomplished something. you got fish. \n\njerry: big accomplishment. \n\ngeorge: fish. what do they do? \n\nelaine: what do you do? \n\nkramer: it's this way. \n\ngeorge: what time is it? \n\njerry: five o'clock. \n\ngeorge: always late. always late. \n\njerry: you're not late. \n\ngeorge: i told them to meet me in front of my building at six-fifteen. \n\nelaine: who? \n\ngeorge: my parents. it's their anniversary. i'm taking them out to dinner and a show tonight. you think we'll hit traffic? \n\njerry: of course we'll hit traffic. it's rush hour. \n\nelaine: isn't it going the other way? \n\njerry: there is no other way in new york. everybody goes every way all the time. \n\nelaine: but it's saturday. \n\njerry: you got the picnic and burger traffic. \n\ngeorge: i always get myself in this position. can't be on time. gotta rush. \n\nelaine: what's the matter? \n\njerry: i have to go to the bathroom. why do they hide the bathroom in these malls? \n\njerry: (cont'd) you want me to help you with that? \n\nkramer: no, no, i got it. \n\njerry: (to george, rewoman) what do you think, georgie boy? \n\ngeorge: did i need that pointed out for me? what is that going to do for me? how does that help me, to see her? i'm trying to live my life. don't show me that. \n\nkramer: if you like her, go talk to her. \n\ngeorge: yeah, right. i'll just go up and say, \"hi, how ya' doing? would you like a glass of white wine?\" jerry before you got within twenty feet of this woman, she'd have her finger on the mace button. she's like an expensive car with one of those motion-sensor force field alarms. any sudden movement in the area could set her off. \n\nkramer: she's fat. \n\nelaine: oh she's fat? \n\nelaine: what? jerry where's the car? \n\nkramer: i thought it was here. \n\ngeorge: you don't know where we parked? \n\ngeorge: oh, this is great. \n\nkramer: blue-one. i thought it was blue-one. \n\njerry: i thought it was green. i remember seeing green. \n\nelaine: i didn't pay attention. \n\ngeorge: this is just what i need. \n\nelaine: i'm sure it's right around here. \n\nkramer: it looks familiar. i remember the elevator. \n\ngeorge: there's elevators all over! it all looks the same. \n\njerry: it's over there. i know where it is. \n\nelaine: it's black, right? \n\nkramer: dark blue. \n\ngeorge: (mumbling) you come to a parking lot, you write it down. how hard is that? \n\njerry: there it is!...no, no that's a toyota. \n\njerry: (cont'd) hmmm...i thought it was... \n\nkramer: didn't we come in over there? \n\njerry: i thought it was over there. \n\nelaine: how long can fish live in one of these plastic bags? \n\nkramer: about two hours. \n\nelaine: (she looks at her watch) you'd better find this car. \n\ngeorge: it's this way... and they take off again, pairing off \n\njerry: i really have to go to the bathroom. \n\nkramer: why don't you go behind one of these cars? j \n\nkramer: (cont'd) why? nobody's around. \n\njerry: i'll wait. \n\nkramer: you know when you hold it in like that you can cause a lot of damage to your bladder. that's what happens to truck drivers. they hold it in all the time. eventually it starts coming out involuntarily. \n\njerry: alright. \n\nkramer: jerry, are you aware that adult diapers are a six hundred million dollar a year industry? \n\njerry: maybe i should just go anytime i get the urge like you...wherever i am. there's too much urinary freedom in this society. i'm proud to hold it in. it builds character. \n\nelaine: (re car) there it is!...no that's not it. \n\nelaine: (cont'd) hey, watch it. ...did you see that car? maniac. can you explain something to me? i got six questions wrong on my drivers test. that's the maximum. i read the book, i'm a college graduate. this is a country where fifty percent of its high school students can't locate europe on a map. how are they all passing that test? it's a mystery. \n\ngeorge: ...six wrong? \n\nelaine: those school zones are a killer. \n\njerry: (to kramer, rebox) will you let me help you with that? \n\nkramer: i'm gonna put it down behind that car. \n\njerry: you're not worried somebody's gonna pee on it? \n\nkramer: (to george) pink eleven. remember that. \n\ngeorge: oh i got it. (to jerry) that i'm supposed to remember. where the car is, that's insignificant. \n\nelaine: (looking at fish) i think they're laboring. \n\nkramer: look at this place. it's huge... \n\ngeorge: i can tell you this. if i am not in front of my house at six-fifteen, when my parents get there, they will put me on an aggravation installment plan that will compound with interest for decades. \n\njerry: parents never forget a foul-up. i once left a jacket on the bus when i was fourteen. last week i'm flying to chicago to do a show, \"make sure you hang on to your jacket.\" \n\ngeorge: where the hell is this car, kramer? \n\nkramer: it's got to be here. \n\nelaine: why are they using so many colors? and the numbers go up to forty. \n\njerry: maybe it's not on this level. \n\ngeorge: what? \n\njerry: there are four different levels. maybe we're on the wrong level. how long was the escalator ride up? \n\nelaine: it felt like a couple of levels. \n\njerry: you should always carry a pad and pen. \n\ngeorge: i can't carry a pen. i'm afraid i'll puncture my scrotum. \n\nkramer: i have a pen. \n\njerry: where was the bathroom in this mall? there are six-hundred stores, i didn't see one bathroom. what is this, like a joke? they finished building the mall and they go, \"oh my god, we forgot the bathrooms.\" \n\nmother: (o.c.) don't you dare talk to me like that! you hear me? \n\nelaine: look at that woman. \n\nmother: i told you! i don't care! you'll have to wait. \n\ngeorge: (to woman) hey, is that necessary? \n\nmother: (to george) why don't you mind your own business? \n\ngeorge: i think hitting a defenseless child is my business. \n\nkid: (to george) you're ugly. \n\ngeorge: ...what? \n\nkid: you're ugly. \n\ngeorge: you are! \n\nkid: you are! \n\ngeorge: i should've hit the little son-of-a-bitch. i can't stand kids. adults think it's so wonderful how honest kids are. i don't need that kind of honesty. i'll take a deceptive adult over an honest kid any day. \n\nkramer: (re car) i found it! \n\nelaine: he's got it. \n\nkramer: oh...no. \n\njerry: all right, that's it. from now on no more calling out they found it, unless we're sitting in it. okay? \n\nelaine: jerry, look at my fish. \n\njerry: his eyes look a little cloudy. \n\ngeorge: oh are they gonna be furious. \n\njerry: who's got the tickets? george i do. (to kramer) i thought you knew this mall. you said you'd been here before! \n\nkramer: it was easy the last time. \n\nelaine: my fish are dying right in front of me! we have to get someone to drive us around the parking lot to help us look for the car. \n\njerry: no one's going to do that. \n\nelaine: excuse me, we can't seem to find our car. i was wondering if it would be possible if you're not in a hurry, to drive us around the garage for five minutes so we can look. \n\nman #1: (holding his hands up) ...sorry. \n\nelaine: five minutes. \n\nman #1: can't do it. \n\nelaine: we're not wilding. \n\nelaine: (cont'd) excuse me - i can't seem to find my car - do you think you could drive me... \n\nelaine: (cont'd) oh that's funny? is that funny? well tell me if you think this is funny these fish are dying! they're gasping for oxygen right now! they'll be floating in an hour. is that funny too? \n\njerry: those are really ugly sneakers. where did you get those? \n\nkramer: right here at the mall. \n\nelaine: excuse me... \n\nelaine: (cont'd) sorry to have disturbed you. terribly sorry. but the fish will be dead. you do know that. they can't live in plastic. that's not me talking, that's science. \n\njerry: it's amazing how shopping makes me have to go. all i have to do is walk into a department store and it's like some kind of horse laxative just kicked in. \n\nkramer: you drank a whole bottle of water. \n\njerry: i know. \n\nkramer: so why don't you just go? \n\njerry: no i can't. \n\nkramer: don't you get tired of following rules? \n\njerry: you think i'm too cautious? \n\nkramer: why be uncomfortable if you don't have to? it's organic. \n\njerry: organic. so's buddy hackett. \n\nkramer: buddy hackett? \n\njerry: he's a comedian. \n\nkramer: i know. \n\njerry: all right. all right. \n\nkramer: (pointing) you can go over here. \n\njerry: i can manage. \n\nkramer: (turns away and spots george) george! (leaves scene) \n\nkramer: it'll take you ten seconds. \n\njerry: okay, okay. i'll be right back. \n\nsecurity guard: okay, let's go. come with me. \n\njerry: but... \n\nsecurity guard: come on. \n\njerry: (starts to leave, to himself) ...kramer \n\njerry: i've had this condition since i was eleven! i've been in and out of hospitals my whole life. i have no control over it. doctors have told me that when i feel it, the best thing to do is just release it. otherwise, i could die. \n\nsecurity guard: well you're still not allowed. \n\njerry: do you hear what i'm saying to you?! i'm telling you that if i don't go, i could die. die. is it worth dying for? \n\nsecurity guard: that's up to you. \n\njerry: so you don't care if i die. \n\nsecurity guard: what i care about is the sanitary condition of the parking facility. \n\njerry: it was life and death. \n\nsecurity guard: uh huh. \n\njerry: oh i'm lying. why would i do it unless i was in mortal danger? i know it's against the law. \n\nsecurity guard: i don't know. \n\njerry: because i could get uromysitisis poisoning and die. that's why!...do you think i enjoy living like this?...the shame, the humiliation...you know i have been issued a public urination pass by the city because of my condition. unfortunately my little brother ran out of the house with it this morning. \n\njerry: (c0nt'd) him and his friends are probably peeing all over the place. you want to call the department of social services? oh, it's saturday. they're closed today. my luck. \n\nsecurity guard: you can tell the police all about it. \n\nkramer: (calling out) jerry! \n\nelaine: jerry! \n\ngeorge: unbelievable, i'm never gonna get out of here. the guy goes to pee, he never comes back. it's like a science fiction story. \n\nelaine: maybe he went to one of the other levels. i'll go look for him. \n\ngeorge: oh now you're gonna go? elaine i'll be back in five minutes. \n\ngeorge: if you go now, i know what's gonna happen. we'll find the car, jerry will show up, and then we'll never find you. \n\nelaine: no, no, i'll be back. \n\ngeorge: oh what's the difference? we'll all be dead eventually. \n\nkramer: does that bother you? \n\ngeorge: yeah, it bothers me. doesn't it bother you? \n\nkramer: not at all. \n\ngeorge: see now that bothers me even more than dying bothers me, cause it's people like you who live to be a hundred and twenty because you're not bothered by it. how could it not bother you? \n\nkramer: i once saw this thing on t.v. with people who are terminally ill. and they all believed the secret of life is just to live every moment. \n\ngeorge: yeah, yeah. i've heard that. meanwhile i'm here with you in a parking garage, what am i supposed to do? \n\njerry: first of all you don't even know technically that i went. that's for starters. i mean i could've been pouring a bottle of water out there. you don't know. \n\nsecurity guard: i know what you did. \n\njerry: oh really, do you? well it just so happens that i did pour water out. i had a bottle of very tepid water and i poured it out. and i could see how you made a mistake, because pouring water out sounds very much like a person urinating. \n\njerry: (cont'd) and you know when you think about it it's really quite an amusing case of mistaken identity. that's all it is. \n\nsecurity guard: yeah i'm sure. \n\njerry: you know this is not the first time this has happened to me. i always carry water because of my condition. it dehydrates me. it's a vicious cycle. \n\nelaine: and now he's gone. i'm sure he's looking for the car. five minutes, that's all. i just want to find him. \n\nman #1: i can't do it. \n\nelaine: but why? why can't you do it? \n\nman #1: i can't. \n\nelaine: no, see that's not a reason you can't. you just don't want to. \n\nman #1: that's right. \n\nelaine: but why? why don't you want to? \n\nman #1: i don't know. \n\nelaine: but wouldn't you get any satisfaction out of helping someone out? \n\nman #: 1 no, i wouldn't. \n\njerry: (a new tack) all right, all right. i want to apologize. i was frightened, i said crazy things. i obviously offended you. i insulted your intelligence. the uromysitisis, the water bottle...i made it all up, and now...i'm going to tell you the truth. today my father and mother are celebrating their fiftieth, well i'm jumping ahead here, their forty-seventh wedding anniversary. we made arrangements to spend the evening together. they are supposed to be in front of my building at six-fifteen. \n\njerry: (cont'd) what i haven't told you, or anyone else for that matter, is that my father's been in a red chinese prison for the past fourteen years. \n\nkramer: the guy's got a fat fetish. spector never dates a woman under two hundred-fifty pounds. \n\ngeorge: (not interested) really. \n\nkramer: what does he do with all that fat? does he just jump up and down on it? does he gouge it like killer kowalski? \n\ngeorge: who's killer kowalski? \n\nkramer: he was a wrestler. he would grab hold of someone's stomach and just squeeze it until they gave. \n\ngeorge: i've gotta go to the bathroom. \n\nkramer: so go. george here? \n\nkramer: (shaking his head) you and jerry. \n\ngeorge: don't you believe me? it's their fiftieth anniversary. you know this is gonna kill him. you're aware of that. kill him. on the biggest night of his life... \n\nsecurity guard: oh your folks have an anniversary today too? \n\njerry: (to george) was he also in a red chinese prison? \n\ngeorge: (to jerry, somewhat impressed) a red chinese prison? \n\nkramer: george! george! \n\nelaine: jerry! (then she checks her fish) \n\njerry: well what happened was my father was staying in the home of one of red china's great military leaders, general chang, who by the way came up with the recipe for general chang's chicken. you know, the one with the red peppers and orange peel at szechwan gardens? george sure, i have it all the time. very spicy. \n\njerry: well general chang was a very flamboyant man. a complete failure as a general, but a helluva cook. \n\nelaine: (o.c.) jerry! jerry elaine?! \n\nelaine: (o.c.) jerry! over here... \n\nelaine: (cont'd) where have you been? \n\njerry: i was arrested for urinating. \n\ngeorge: (proudly) me too. \n\nelaine: you what? \n\njerry: i have uromysitisis. it's very serious you know. \n\nelaine: look at my fish... (jerry examines it) is he... \n\njerry: no, but he's not looking good... (elaine turns to two huge body builders in workout wear) \n\nelaine: (desperate) please, we can't find our car. please drive us around the parking lot to find our car. my fish are dying. \n\nman #2: can't do it. \n\nelaine: i can see not caring what happens to us, we're human. but what about the fish? the fish? \n\nman #3: sorry. (they keep walking.) \n\nelaine: that's right, go. go home to your dumbbells. work on your pecs. i'm really impressed. \n\nelaine: (cont'd) that's right you heard me. you got a problem with that? \n\ngeorge: elaine, shut-up. \n\njerry: hey, where's kramer? \n\ngeorge: i don't know. (to elaine) where's kramer? \n\nelaine: i thought he was with you. \n\ngeorge: see, i knew it. i knew this was gonna happen... \n\ngeorge: (cont'd) look at the time, that's it. \n\nelaine: have we looked over there? have we checked that side? \n\ngeorge: we came in over there! \n\nelaine: we didn't come in over there! \n\njerry: where's kramer? \n\njerry: hey george, there she is again. ... \n\ngeorge: so what do you want me to do? \n\njerry: ask her to drive us around. there's your opening. \n\ngeorge: that is an opening. \n\ngeorge: (cont'd) excuse me...i really... what's happened is that my friend forgot where he parked and if you're not in a big hurry, we'd really appreciate it if... \n\namy: oh sure, i'll drive you around. \n\ngeorge: you will? \n\namy: sure. \n\ngeorge: thanks a lot. i'm really late. my parents are waiting in front of my building and we're stuck here. \n\namy: i wouldn't want to get lost in here. it smells like a toilet. people are such animals. \n\ngeorge: yeah, right. \n\njerry: filthy pigs. \n\ngeorge: it's a blue honda... \n\namy: this has happened to me too. it's very frustrating. \n\nelaine: hi, i'm elaine. \n\njerry: jerry. \n\namy: hello. \n\nelaine: it's very nice of you to do this. i've asked several people and they wouldn't even answer me. \n\namy: i'm happy to do it. (to george) i'm amy. \n\ngeorge: hi amy, i'm george. \n\ngeorge: (talking in passenger window) i didn't mean anything by it. i don't even know l. ron hubbard! i didn't know you were... \n\ngeorge: (cont'd) ...with that group. \n\nelaine: (shouting to amy) what about my fish? \n\njerry: boy, those scientologists. they can be pretty sensitive. \n\nelaine: i'll say. \n\nelaine: what is it? (they discover what he's staring at) the car! \n\njerry: the car! \n\ngeorge: the car! \n\nelaine: we found it. i can't believe it! \n\ngeorge: kramer, kramer's not here...i knew it. i knew it! i knew this would happen. (screaming) kramer! kramer! \n\njerry: kramer! \n\njerry: kramer. \n\nkramer: jerry? \n\njerry: yeah, over here. \n\nkramer: boy i had a helluva time finding that air-conditioner. i looked everywhere. i completely forgot where i hid it. you know where it was? \n\ngeorge: purple 23. \n\nkramer: right! purple 23. i could've used you. \n\ngeorge: sometimes it's good to have a pencil to write these things down. \n\nkramer: what time is it? \n\ngeorge: seven forty-five. \n\nkramer: well at least there's no traffic. \n\ngeorge: right. \n\nkramer: what time does that play start? \n\ngeorge: eight o'clock. \n\nkramer: that might be a problem. (to elaine) where's your little bag of... \n\nkramer: (cont'd) oh...(takes out parking stub) boy this garage is going to cost a fortune. you know how long we were here? \n\ngeorge: she thinks i'm a nice guy. women always think i'm nice, but women don'tnice. \n\njerry: this is amazing, i haven't seen one person go in to that restaurant since it opened. poor guy. \n\ngeorge: why is nice bad? what kind a of sick society we are living in, when nice is bad? \n\njerry: what's that smell? what are you wearing? \n\ngeorge: what, a 'little' cologne. \n\njerry: manly. \n\ngeorge: monica wants me to wear it. \n\njerry: so why didn't you say no? \n\ngeorge: i'm too nice. \n\njerry: look at this poor guy. his family is probably in pakistan -- they're waiting him to send back money. this is horrible. \n\ngeorge: she wants me to take an iq test. \n\njerry: that's because you're stupid enough to wear the cologne. \n\ngeorge: no, she's taking this course in education for her masters. it's part of her research project, so i have to be a guinea pig. \n\njerry: i've never been a guinea pig. i've been a sheep, a tody. \n\ngeorge: you know, i can't talk to you anymore. \n\njerry: all right, i'm sorry. go ahead, you're taking the iq test. \n\ngeorge: yeah, and she's going to find i'm a moron. you know, people think i'm smart, but i'm not smart. \n\njerry: who thinks you're smart? \n\ngeorge: i'm not going to break a hundred on this thing. \n\njerry: what thing? \n\ngeorge: you don't listen when people talk to you anymore! \n\njerry: oh, oh, the iq thing...yeah. \n\ngeorge: i'm sure i have a low iq. i've been lying about my sat scores for 15 years. \n\njerry: what'd ya get? \n\ngeorge: what did i get or what do i say i got? \n\njerry: what do you say? \n\ngeorge: i say fourteen o nine (1409). \n\njerry: 1409, that's a good score. \n\ngeorge: psst, you're telling me. \n\njerry: what did you really get? \n\ngeorge: you are my friend. \n\njerry: of course. \n\ngeorge: i tell you everything, right? \n\njerry: i hope so. \n\ngeorge: well, this i take to the grave. \n\njerry: he's serving mexican, italian, chinese. he's all over the place. that's why no one's going in. \n\nelaine: why do you keep watching? \n\njerry: i don't know, i'm obsessed with it. it's like a spider in the toilet struggling for survival. and even though ya know he's not going to make it, y-y-you kind of root for him for a second. \n\nelaine: and then you flush. \n\njerry: well, it's a spider. \n\nelaine: you know, sometimes people won't go in a place, if they don't see anyone else in there. \n\nelaine: do you have to do that? jerry, don't do that, that is so annoying. \n\njerry: bazooka joe. \n\njerry: the buzzer. \n\nelaine: it's your house. \n\njerry: my house? you gotta be on the lease to press to buzzer. yeah? (to the intercom) \n\nintercom: it's george. \n\njerry: come on up. \n\nelaine: casus belli. \n\njerry: what's that? \n\nelaine: it's latin. i read it in some book. i don't know, i just wanted to say it out loud. \n\njerry: come on, go in, go in! [watching dream cafe with binoculars again] \n\nelaine: have you gone in there? \n\njerry: no, i'm afraid we'll start talking, and i'll gonna wind up going partners with him. \n\ngeorge: hey. \n\njerry: you know, i could probably shoot him from here. i'd be doing us both a favor. \n\ngeorge: i'm wearing some cologne, all right? \n\nelaine: sure, fine. \n\njerry: casus belli. \n\nelaine: casus belli. \n\ngeorge: what's that? \n\nelaine: since when do you wear cologne? \n\ngeorge: why is what i do is so important? why must i be always the focal point of attention? let me just be, let me live. \n\njerry: hey, how'd you do on that iq test? \n\ngeorge: i didn't take it, yet. \n\nelaine: what iq test? \n\ngeorge: what's casus belli. \n\njerry: oh, it's nothing... \n\ngeorge: is it about me? \n\njerry: why must you always be the focal point of attention? why can't you just be? (elaine laughs - hu) why can't you live? \n\nelaine: it's just a latin phrase george, it does not mean anything. now, what is this test? \n\njerry: this woman he's dating is making him take this iq test for this course. \n\nelaine: oh, that sounds like fun. \n\ngeorge: yeah, fun. iq tests are totally bogus. they prove nothing. \n\nelaine: you'll do well, you're smart. \n\njerry: no see, he's not smart. people think he's smart, but he's not. \n\nelaine: wha'd you get on your sat's? \n\ngeorge: it varies. \n\njerry: you know, i don't even know my iq. \n\nelaine: huh, mine's 145. \n\ngeorge: 145! \n\njerry: get out of here! \n\nelaine: you get out of here! \n\njerry: you get out of here! \n\nelaine: huhuhuhuhuhuhu (laughing) \n\ngeorge: shst, you should take the test for me. \n\nelaine: huh. \n\njerry: boy that'd be something, cheating on a iq test. \n\ngeorge: haha (laughs) \n\njerry: hey, remember in college when you passed lettick the test out the window? you became a legend after that. (stepping over elaine then george's legs to get to the large blue chair and sits down.) \n\ngeorge: yeah, yeah i really had some guts back then. why don't we do it again? \n\nelaine: what? \n\ngeorge: you could take the iq test for me. i could pass it to you out a window. we could do it, she lives in the first floor. \n\nelaine: are you serious? \n\ngeorge: why not? \n\nelaine: where would i take the test? \n\ngeorge: i don't know, she lives right around the corner. you could take it here or go to the coffee shop. \n\nelaine: no, that'd be too noisy. \n\njerry: take it to dream cafe, you won't hear a peep. \n\nelaine: hey, what do you think? \n\njerry: hey, i love a good caper. \n\nelaine: yeah, that's what is, isn't it? a caper. huh. \n\ngeorge: you'll do it? \n\nelaine: what the hey. \n\ngeorge: yeaah, beautiful... (they try to hit a high five, but george hits elaine in the forehead.) sorry... \n\nbabu bhatt: welcome to the dream cafe. \n\njerry: well, ah, i've been looking forward to it. \n\nbabu: oh, ah how did you hear about us? \n\njerry: eh, people, people are talking. \n\nbabu: smoking or non-smoking? we are proud to offer both. \n\njerry: ah, non-smoking would be great. \n\nbabu: very good. my name is babu bhatt, i will be your waiter. a steaming hot folded face cloth for your pleasure. \n\njerry: thank you. [throws the towel around like a hot potato.] \n\nbabu: our specials are tacos, moussaka and franks and beans. \n\njerry: well, ah w-what do you recommend my good fellow? \n\nbabu: oh, the turkey. \n\njerry: well then the turkey it'll be. and may i say you have a splendid establishment here, my friend. i'm sure you flourish at this location for many, many years. \n\nbabu: you're very kind man. very kind, thank you. very kind... \n\njerry: (thinks) very kind. i am a kind man. who else would do something like this? nobody. nobody thinks about people the way i do. all right, snap out of it you stupid jerk. you're eating a turkey sandwich. what do want, a nobel prize? \n\ngeorge: you go in the living room. i'll take the test in here. \n\nmonica: but why? \n\ngeorge: i won't be able to, concentrate in front of you. \n\nmonica: oh, i think you're making too much of this. iq tests don't mean anything. \n\ngeorge: are you kidding me? [elaine walks past the window glancing in] this is the best tool we have today of measuring a persons' intelligence. \n\nmonica: well, i certainly don't place any importance on it. \n\ngeorge: well, i think you're wrong about that. [elaine walks past the window again, glancing in] and ah now if you'll excuse me, i'd really like to get started, please. \n\nmonica: good luck. \n\ngeorge: don't need it. n'huhuhu (laughs) \n\nelaine: what's been going on out there? i've been standing here 20 minutes. \n\ngeorge: i'm sorry i'm sorry, here's the test. thanks again for doing this - hhe. \n\nelaine: all right, what time do you want me back here. \n\ngeorge: ah, ah, twenty to three. \n\nelaine: ok. \n\ngeorge: thanks again. \n\nelaine: all right. \n\ngeorge: a-and don't settle for 145, you can do better, you're a genius. heheheh (laughs) \n\njerry: thank you babu. you have quite a flair. you are quite the restaurateur i must say. \n\nbabu: it is in deed my pleasure. \n\njerry: oh, please... \n\nbabu: oh, welcome to the dream cafe. (runs to get a menu.) our specials today... \n\nelaine: oh, no no no. i'll just have a tea and toast. (sits down across the table from jerry) \n\nbabu: tea and toast. \n\njerry: eat something! babu... \n\nelaine: um, ok, ah well i'll have the, th-ri-rigatoni. \n\nbabu: oh, oh very good choice. very good. \n\njerry: oh wow, so you got the test. you're cheating. \n\nelaine: i know. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: oh boy. woop... \n\nkramer: jerry let me ask you something, hi elaine... (pats her on the shoulder twice.) \n\nelaine: hey. \n\nkramer: this guy leaves this jacket at my mother's house two years ago. now, she hasn't spoken to him since and now he says he wants the jacket back. \n\njerry: so? \n\nkramer: well, i'm not giving it back. \n\njerry: why not? \n\nkramer: well because i meet a lot of women in this jacket, you know they're attracted to it. i mean why do you think my mother went out with him? \n\nkramer: oh, gees... \n\nelaine: ok, \n\nkramer: you're all right \n\nelaine: yeah, ok... (takes the test and moves to another table.) \n\nkramer: (eating some nachos) anyway, it's been two years. i mean isn't there like statue of limitations on that? \n\njerry: statute. \n\nkramer: what? \n\njerry: statute of limitations. it's not a statue. \n\nkramer: no, it's statue. \n\njerry: fine, it's a sculpture of limitations. \n\nkramer: wait a minute, just wait a minute...elaine, elaine! now you're smart, is it statue or statute of limitations? \n\nelaine: statute. \n\nkramer: oh, i really think you're wrong. \n\nelaine: look, kramer, i have to take this test ok, i don't have a lot of time. \n\nkramer: what test? \n\nelaine: an iq test. \n\nkramer: hmm. why you takin' an iq test? \n\nelaine: it's for george. \n\nkramer: george? \n\nelaine: yeah, can-look ... can i explain it to you later? \n\nkramer: yeah, but why are you taking an iq test for george? \n\nelaine: would you please?! \n\nkramer: what, is it for a job or something? \n\nelaine: later! \n\nkramer: you're positive it's statute? \n\nelaine: yes, yes! (jerry shaking his head, like he can't believe what he's seeing) \n\nbabu: welcome, welcome. a steaming hot face towel for your... (gives kramer a hot towel and kramer screams, elaine screams and kramer falls from his chair. he gets up and is dazed) \n\nmonica: george? \n\ngeorge: yeah? \n\nmonica: the door is locked. \n\ngeorge: oh, it's locked? \n\nmonica: i need to get something. \n\ngeorge: monica, i'm really focused here, this stuff's a killer. (turns to the next page) \n\nmonica: george! \n\ngeorge: wish i could. (raises the magazine up in front of his face and continues reading.) \n\nbabu: nananeena, ladadeeda, laadadeeda, saadina.... laadadeeda sa saadina (singing too loud) \n\nelaine: babu! ba-if-if ya don't mind? \n\nbabu: set. ok \n\nelaine: set. \n\nbabu: i'll get it ... \n\nelaine: oh my god! it's all over the test! \n\nbabu: oh, i did sc-i'm terribly sorry. \n\njerry: oh my god. \n\nelaine: oh man! look at this... i'm out of time anyway. \n\nbabu: please, forgive me, please... \n\njerry: go ahead, i'll take care of it. \n\nelaine: uhh. \n\nbabu: (opens the door for elaine) please, i'm very sorry. tell your friends! \n\njerry: it's all right, she was cheating anyway. \n\nbabu: you're a very kind man. \n\njerry: babu, you're pakistani, right? \n\nbabu: yes, pakistani, yes. \n\njerry: babu, may i say something? \n\nbabu: of course, you're very smart man, i listen. \n\njerry: i am not a restaurateur by any means, but it occurred to me that perhaps you might serve some dishes from your native pakistan? as opposed to say t-the franks and beans for example. \n\nbabu: but there are no pakistani people here. \n\njerry: doesn't matter. you would have the only authentic pakistani restaurant in the whole neighborhood. \n\nbabu: yes, you see everything, don't you? \n\njerry: well, you know; not everything. i do what i can. \n\nbabu: i close down today and when i open again it'll be all pakistani restaurant. thank you, thank you so much, you're very special person, very special. \n\nelaine: it was an accident. \n\ngeorge: what did you go on a picnic? \n\nelaine: babu bhatt did it. \n\ngeorge: babu bhatt? how i'm going to explain this? \n\nmonica: time's up george. \n\ngeorge: u-ok. (george closes the window and shoos elaine off. he opens the door to monica.) here you go. \n\nmonica: how did you do? \n\ngeorge: piece of cake; hu. \n\nmonica: what happened to the test? \n\ngeorge: what? oh i spilled some food on it. \n\nmonica: food? what food? \n\ngeorge: what are you talking about? \n\nmonica: where did you get food? \n\ngeorge: from my pocket. \n\nmonica: your pocket? \n\ngeorge: i eh, i had a sandwich in my pocket. \n\nmonica: and coffee? \n\ngeorge: yeah, had some coffee, yeah. \n\nmonica: where did you get the coffee? \n\ngeorge: where did i get the coffee? where do think i got the coffee, at the grocery store. (small laugh) \n\nmonica: how did you get there? \n\ngeorge: i walked. \n\nmonica: how did you get out of the apartment? i didn't see you leave. \n\ngeorge: i climbed out the window. \n\nmonica: you climbed out the window? \n\ngeorge: of course. \n\nmonica: why didn't you go out the door? \n\ngeorge: the door? why would i go out the door? the window's right here. \n\nmonica: you're a fascinating man, george costanza. \n\n[jerry's apartment, jerry and elaine. jerry is looking dream cafe with binoculars. there's a sign on the window: closed for renovation.] \n\njerry: the average person in a situation like this, they walk right by it. not me. \n\nelaine: you're very special. \n\nkramer: hey, do me a favor... some guy comes in looking for me, tell him you don't know where i am. \n\njerry: of course, i always do. \n\nkramer: no, no it's that guy. he's really been bugging me about the jacket. \n\nelaine: just give it back to him. \n\nkramer: oh, he'll have to kill me. (leaves.) \n\njerry: hey georgie! \n\ngeorge: coming up. \n\njerry: how'd you do on the iq test?! \n\ngeorge: 85! \n\njerry: what?!! \n\ngeorge: 85, jerry! 85 iq ! \n\nelaine: 85? \n\njerry: well, well, well... \n\nelaine: he's coming up? \n\njerry: well, i'm no genius but, according to my calculations he should be here in a few seconds. \n\nelaine: yeah, but an 85, jerry, that's ridiculous. \n\njerry: well, maybe the test was gender bias, you know a lot of questions on hunting and testicles... \n\ngeorge: oh, hello professor. \n\nelaine: george, i cannot believe... \n\ngeorge: please... \n\nelaine: no there has got be a mistake. \n\ngeorge: you should've seen her face. it was the exact same look my father gave me when i told him i wanted to be a ventriloquist. \n\njerry: but an 85? \n\nelaine: listen, there were too many distractions there. babu...what ever he's name was and kramer...i couldn't concentrate. \n\nelaine: jerry! it was! let me take it again. \n\ngeorge: ooh ho hoo, forget it. \n\nelaine: oh, come on, come on. i?ll guarantee 140. what do you have to lose? \n\ngeorge: you could do worse! \n\nelaine: no, no, come on. i guarantee it. \n\ngeorge: all right, i'll ask her. \n\nelaine: ok, now where i'm going to take it. \n\njerry: take it here, i'll leave, there'll be no distractions. \n\njerry: well, congratulations my friend. you know, i'm sorry i missed the grand re-opening. i was out of town for about a week. \n\nbabu: you see how i listen. i work very hard, borrow more money. \n\njerry: i think it's fantastic. has a certain indefinable charm. \n\nbabu: you wish to eat? \n\njerry: let me tell you something babu. you go back in that kitchen -- tell your chef i want the works. \n\nbabu: very good. \n\nelaine: (stretching) oh man... uunh. \n\nelaine: what are you doing? \n\nkramer: quiet. shh, don't say anything. \n\nelaine: what's going on? \n\nman behind the door: hey, kramer! i saw you go there! i'm not leaving until you gimme that jacket. (bangs on the door) open up kramer! \n\nelaine: wha'd you come in here for? \n\nkramer: ah, well i thought i'd throw him off. see, he knows where i live. \n\nelaine: well kramer, i have to return this test. i've got to get out of here. \n\nkramer: i thought you took the test. \n\nelaine: i had to take it again. \n\nkramer: how come? \n\nelaine: what's the difference?!! \n\nkramer: well, you can't leave now. \n\nelaine: what? \n\nman behind the door: come on, kramer! i want that jacket back! \n\nkramer: never! \n\nmonica: come on george, open up. \n\nmonica: well? \n\ngeorge: how' you doing? \n\nmonica: where's the test? \n\ngeorge: hunh, you know, it's the damnedest thing. i went out the window again to, to get a cup of coffee... \n\njerry: babu? babu...[waves babu to come to table] babu...you know, i got to tell you, i never do this, but the shrimp, it's just, it's a little stringy. you have any chicken? \n\nbabu: the shrimp is stringy? \n\njerry: well, maybe your refrigerator... \n\nbabu: quiet!! \n\njerry: no i... \n\nbabu: you shut up! \n\njerry: well i... \n\nbabu: you make me change restaurant, but nobody come! you say make pakistani, babu bhatt have only pakistani restaurant. but where are people? you see people? show me people. there are no people! \n\njerry: you know, i think i'll just take the check. \n\nbabu: you bad man! you very very bad man! [leaves] \n\njerry: (thinking) bad man? could've my mother been wrong? \n\nmonica: are you looking for george? \n\nelaine: well eh, kind of.... \n\nmonica: george left. \n\nelaine: oh. \n\nmonica: is, that the test? \n\nelaine: oh, this...emm...yeah...here you go. \n\nmonica: thanks. i hope you do a lot better this time. \n\nelaine: actually, you know i think i did. the first time i couldn't really cons...[monica closes the window]...entrate. \n\njerry: you know what it was, bad location. \n\ngeorge: come on, lets not stand here too long, we might run in to her. \n\njerry: aren't you cold? where's your jacket? \n\nkramer: h-yeah... \n\njerry: oh, sorry. \n\nkramer: i'm going upstairs. \n\nelaine: hey guys... \n\njerry: hey. \n\nelaine: i just ran in to monica. you know what my iq is? 151. \n\njerry: 151? \n\nelaine: yeah..heheah (laughing a bit) \n\ngeorge: that's a good score. \n\njerry: so, what are you up for? how about mexican? \n\ngeorge: italian. \n\nelaine: no, chinese. \n\njerry: you know, what would be great? \n\njerry: ....hair that was on your shower soap today could be in your head tomorrow. how did they do the first transplant? did they have the guy take a shower , get his soap , rush it in there by helicopter, you know keep the soap alive on the soap support system ....looks it over. \"we got the hair but i think we lost the zest.\" ....rejects the transplant with organs. is it possible that a head could reject the hair transplant . guy just standin' there and suddenly... ..bink! ( motions hair flying out of his head)........lands in someone's frozen yogurt. \n\nrepairman: .....the gaskets that you have here are asymmetrical. \n\njerry: ah..ha!.. really. ( jerry is barely listening to him ) \n\nrepairman: so i took off the motor relay on the compressor....'cos you..you (stutters) you've got some discoloration \n\njerry: oh! well whatever you have to do. \n\nrepairman: i was working with one.....mount at a time 'cos you don't wanna disturb the position of the compressor. \n\njerry: (sarcastically) no you don't.. \n\ngeorge: hey! what are listening to? \n\njerry: my show from last night. \n\ngeorge: oh! you taped it? \n\njerry: yeah , i was doing new material. \n\ngeorge: hey! did 'ya ever do that thing on the toes that i said . \n\njerry: huh? \n\ngeorge: yeah! like the big toe is like the captain of the toes, but sometimes the toe next to the big toe gets so big that there's like a power struggle and the second toe assumes control of the foot. \n\njerry: the\" coup d-toe\" \n\ngeorge: yeah. did you do it? \n\njerry: yeah! \n\ngeorge: so? \n\njerry: nothin'.....nothing at all. \n\ngeorge: need to use the phone. \n\njerry: who you calling? \n\ngeorge: china. \n\njerry: china really? \n\ngeorge: yeah. i'll pay for it. \n\njerry: what for? \n\ngeorge: what for? . i'll tell you what for.... for hair. \n\njerry: hair? \n\ngeorge: the chinese have done it my friend. the chinese have done it. \n\njerry: done what? \n\ngeorge: discovered a cure for baldness. \n\nrepairman: did you see that last night? \n\ngeorge: it was on cnn ( kramer comes in and he is taping from a camcorder) this chinese doctor zeng zau. has discovered a cure for baldness. \n\njerry: (to kramer) what's this? \n\nkramer: well i just got it. spector gave it to me , he's giving everything away...becoming a minimalist. \n\ngeorge: is that the guy who likes fat women? \n\njerry: doesn't the fat fetish conflict with the minimalism. \n\nkramer: (to george) you , you know what you should've done is watching that report on cnn last night. \n\ngeorge: i did, i'm trying to call china. \n\nkramer: you can't call china now its like, what, three 'o clock in the morning there \n\njerry: oh! my god!.... \n\ngeorge: what? \n\njerry: oh! god.. oh! man.....oh! brother!!! i can't believe what i'm hearing. this woman his talking to me on my tape recorder while i was on stage. this is wild. i've never heard anything like this in my life. listen to this. \n\ngeorge: (george puts on the headphones) oh! my god... \n\nkramer: give me it..( tries to pull them off george's head) \n\ngeorge: wa..wait.wait!......who is this woman? \n\njerry: i don't know . i have no idea . i was just listening and she came on. \n\ngeorge: this is like a penthouse letter...why can't i meet women like this? \n\nkramer: all right come on....again attempts to pull headphones off) \n\ngeorge: wait ,wait, wait, wait!!!!.... where was the tape recorder? \n\njerry: it was in the back of the room on the left, she must have been sitting right in front of it. \n\ngeorge: my god!!! \n\nkramer: c'mon it's my turn. \n\ngeorge: all right, all right, all, right!!( gives the headphones to kramer) how you gonna find out who this is? \n\njerry: good question. \n\nkramer: where's the volume..(finds it) a, yai..ya...ya..ya!!!! \n\ngeorge: what do the chinese have to gain by faking a cure for baldness? \n\njerry: if it was real ,they would never let it out of the country. no baldness , it'd be like a nation of supermen. \n\nelaine: hi boys. \n\nboth: hello... \n\nelaine: what's happening? \n\njerry: tell her. i wanna hear her reaction. \n\ngeorge: this woman left this really sexy message on jerry's tape recorder...... \n\njerry: (pushes george) not that you idiot!! \n\ngeorge: what?? \n\njerry: the chinese , the chinese bald cure. \n\ngeorge: i thought you meant the.. \n\njerry: no i meant the bald cure. we were talking about the bald cure. \n\nelaine: what did she say? \n\npeter: seinfeld.....( from way in the back of the restaurant. cheesy plot device to have jerry leave the table for a minute so george and elaine can talk) \n\njerry: hey! is that peter? ...i can't believe it. get me a cup of decaf. (leaves table) \n\nelaine: so did you hear this message? \n\ngeorge: oh!, he he, it was unbelievable \n\nelaine: really! \n\ngeorge: yeah. i can't get over it. \n\nelaine: huh! sexy? \n\ngeorge: this woman drove us out of our minds \n\nelaine: like ...humm...how did she sound? \n\ngeorge: she had this throaty , sexy kind of whisper. \n\nelaine: really , like a... like a....(leans over to george and whispers) jerry, i want to slide my tongue around you like a snake.....ooooooooooha ,oooooohaaaa..... \n\ngeorge: oh! my god!!......you?.....you?...that was you?.... \n\nelaine: shhhhhh!!! \n\ngeorge: how did ya?... \n\nelaine: i stopped at the club to see him and i was standing in the back while he was on, right?, and there was this tape recorder there and i.....got this impulse. ha ha ha ha....what? \n\ngeorge: oh! no no nothing.... \n\nelaine: now listen , promise me you won't tell him okay.i want to have a little fun with this. \n\ngeorge: i had no idea you were filled with such....sexuality.. \n\nelaine: oh! that was nothing. so listen, what about this bald thing? \n\ngeorge: ah! some bald thing, a bald thing i dunno. it's nothing \n\njerry: remember peter? \n\ngeorge: peter? \n\njerry: you remember peter. remember i told you how he went to the track that one time and he was yelling at this jockey and the jockey got off the horse and started chasin' him. \n\nelaine: so listen , what about this girl on the tape recorder? \n\njerry: oh elaine....what do you think an enraptured female fan of mine might say? \n\nelaine: i don't know. \n\njerry: she went on in some detail about certain activities, illegal in some states, for consenting adults. things you would know very little about. \n\nelaine: oh! really. \n\njerry: well this type of things is very common when you're in show business. \n\nelaine: so what, are you gonna ask her out. \n\njerry: no i can't she didn't leave her name or number. \n\nelaine: bummer...okay , good luck finding her . i'm taking off. \n\ngeorge: wh.. where you going? \n\nelaine: home. \n\ngeorge: why you going home for? \n\nelaine: well , i just came from the gym , unless i can shower at your place. \n\njerry: sure. \n\ngeorge: oh! my god. oh! man... \n\njerry: i don't get it. why would a woman do that and then leave no way to get in touch with her. \n\nelaine: (coming out of the shower in a bathrobe) may be she realized she could never have you and she jumped off the george washington bridge. \n\ngeorge: (phone rings ,picks up) operator? beijing? \n\njerry: why are you doing this? \n\ngeorge: why do i do anything? tsss...for women. \n\njerry: elaine have you ever gone out with a bald man? \n\nelaine: no. \n\njerry: you know what that makes you?...a baldist. \n\ngeorge: oh. this i need. hello!! hello. i..i..is this the hair restoration clinic? ...does anyone speak english? \n\nelaine: ( to kramer who just got in with his camcorder) ooooh! you're taping. \n\nkramer: just be yourselves. ( elaine plays with her hair flirtingly) \n\nelaine: aah! okaaay. \n\nkramer: well we're talking with elaine benes; adult film star on the set of her new picture \"elaine does the upper west side\" \n\nelaine: ( to the camera) hi. how 're you doin'? \n\nkramer: i'm doin' fine. \n\ngeorge: do you speak english?...english!! \n\nkramer: whooooa! here's the director jerry seinfeld . jerry , you discovered elaine benes? \n\njerry: well yes i did that's true. a couple of a guys i knew in the coastguard told me about her.... and i sensed that she had the anger and intensity that i needed to make this film work. \n\ngeorge: english. does anybody speak english .nobody speaks english. \n\nkramer: so what scene are you ready to shoot now , elaine? \n\ngeorge: in this scene my co-star who's right over here ( goes over to george who is still on the phone) follow meeeee... is george costanza, he plays an airline pilot who's just returned from rome and i'm about to show him how much i've missed him. \n\nkramer: that's my chinese food...so george is this your first movie with elaine? \n\ngeorge: (visibly disturbed) i...i..i dunno. \n\nkramer: so elaine in your movies is the sex real or is it simulated? \n\nelaine: oh. it's always simulated....except with george that's in my contract. \n\ngeorge: all right, kramer that's it.....( pushes the camera) hello . english. does anyone speak english \n\nkramer: (to the chinese delivery boy) how much do i owe you? \n\nping: $15.90. \n\nkramer: $15.90.? \n\ngeorge: huh. excuse me (to ping) hum... do you speak chinese? \n\nping: chinese....yeah. \n\ngeorge: look...humm..i'm on with beijing with the hair restauration clinic. could you talk to them for me and tell them i'd like to place an order. \n\nping: (sounds like) gwen , ayon. wonche son thai gettin my chon fai yu.(looks at george and laughs) \n\ngeorge: they got a billion people over there and he found a relative. \n\nping: ah fuka suma. if you send money they send cream. \n\ngeorge: they send me? aw right ..ask 'em does it really work? \n\nping: gym a gun sen tokomo. chin che .they say you grow hair, look a like stalin \n\ngeorge: ask' em are there any side effects? \n\nping: dowe o futo yum.... impotence. ....( makes a just kidding gesture) \n\ngeorge: aw! funny he's a funny guy. \n\nping: get a money order from the bank of china , be here three days after they get check. \n\nping: (continues his phone call) ha pachini fair pousher pousher mouist i fai chin fousher... \n\njerry: (as ping rambles on ) ...s'cuse me (ping looks up) kind of an expensive call. \n\nelaine: thanks for driving me home. what did i do to deserve this? \n\ngeorge: yoohoo ,plenty......wh..wh..what are doing hum...you're going in? \n\nelaine: well ya. i guess so why? you wanna do something? \n\ngeorge: yeah....euh...i dunno what? \n\nelaine: pffft....there's really nothing to do. \n\ngeorge: ( becoming more and more awkward) yeah..... \n\nelaine: do you think of anything?.. \n\ngeorge: no, no....(mumbles) \n\nelaine: i am up for anything. \n\ngeorge: really...(he honks the car and is startled, elaine laughs)......i have to say...you were really good doing that porno thing....you're talented. \n\nelaine: i was just kiddin, around....... \n\ngeorge: i thought the thing you said about the sex not being simulated . that was really funny. \n\nelaine: ( feeling awkward as well) yeah! that was a...f...fun ..mmm?. \n\ngeorge: so all right i'll speak to you through jerry and everything. \n\nelaine: okay...thanks a lot for the ride. \n\njerry: ..she was sitting at the table where i had my tape recorder...okay great. thanks again.. bye. ha ha..who do these women think they're dealing with? did she think she was gonna leave this incredibly erotic message on my tape and i was just gonna let it go. not bloody likely... \n\nkramer: what is that? \n\njerry: that's my cockney accent. \n\nkramer: naw ,na , that's no good. \n\njerry: lets hear yours. \n\nkramer: not bloody likely.. \n\njerry: that's the worst cockney accent i've ever heard in my life.( george enters) hey! georgie boy , guess what i got. \n\ngeorge: guess, what i got. \n\njerry: oh! is that the bald stuff? \n\ngeorge: from china. all the way from china. \n\nkramer: wait,wait wait...let me get the camera. \n\ngeorge: no don't get the camera , we don't need the camera. listen i know your skeptical , but i really believe in the chinese. \n\njerry: yes i am skeptical. \n\ngeorge: why do you have to be so suspicious of every one. this is a great man zeng zau, he wants to help bald people. \n\nkramer: w..w..wa...wa..wait..wait wait.. now lets videotape your head for the before picture, so we can watch how it grows and stuff. sit down (george sits).....lean back...a little bit to the right. \n\njerry: make sure you get this area here, where he needs the help.... \n\ngeorge: all right, all right ( goes to the bathroom) \n\nkramer: he's a happy camper huh? \n\njerry: happy camper , i don't hear that expression enough. \n\nkramer: remember that guy who took my jacket. the one i found at my mother's house. \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nkramer: my mother told me that he got arrested for mail fraud \n\njerry: no kidding? \n\nkramer: he's in jail. \n\njerry: what happened to the jacket. did he take it with him? \n\nkramer: that's what i intend to find out. (george comes out of the bathroom and he's got white cream on his head) \n\njerry: you can see it. you gonna walk around like that? \n\nkramer: it stinks. can you smell that?....you stink. \n\njerry: how long are you suppose to leave it on for? \n\ngeorge: all day. ( phone rings , jerry picks up) \n\njerry: hello. \n\nelaine: it's elaine marie benes. \n\njerry: well hello.. \n\nelaine: hello.. so did you ever find out who that woman was? \n\njerry: yes , i got her number. \n\ngeorge: is that elaine? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: hi elaine... \n\nelaine: i guess you figure you're in for a pretty wild night? \n\njerry: well , as i said this type of thing is very common in show business \n\nelaine: well listen i'm going to (?) do you want me to stop by? \n\ngeorge: did she say hello? \n\njerry: what? i dunno. \n\ngeorge: i mean , when i said hello did she say hello back? \n\njerry: i don't know , who keeps track of hellos. \n\ngeorge: isn't polite to say hello when somebody says hello? \n\njerry: she's coming up. \n\ngeorge: elaine's coming up? \n\njerry: yeah. what's wrong, why? ( george runs back to the bathroom) \n\nkramer: how often do you cut your toe nails? \n\njerry: i would say every two and a half to eight weeks. \n\nkramer: 'cos the other night , you know, i was sleeping with marion i rolled over and i cut her ankle with my big toe. \n\njerry: the big toe; the captain. \n\nkramer: what? \n\njerry: the captain of the toes. (phone rings) hello. \n\nelaine: jerry...jerry listen i got too much stuff this afternoon, i can't come over, forget it. \n\njerry: okay....too bad. \n\nelaine: so humm....when you gonna call her? \n\njerry: soon as i get off the phone wih you. \n\nelaine: good luck. \n\njerry: okay , bye (to george) what happened , did you take it off? \n\ngeorge: yeah, that was enough. \n\njerry: that's it, you gave up? \n\ngeorge: no no i'm working on a system...who was that? \n\njerry: that was elaine , she changed her mind. she's not coming over. \n\nalicia: hello. \n\njerry: hello is this alicia? .this is jerry seinfeld. \n\nalicia: yeah. \n\njerry: this is jerry seinfeld. \n\njerry: (to kramer) ...( words missing)...laugh , everything's nice and at the end of the night i go for a little contact. i get the pull back. this woman said the filthiest things i've ever heard in my life. i get the pull back. \n\njerry: yeah.. \n\ngeorge: it's george. \n\njerry: come on up . (looks at his watch) ...what's he doing here now? \n\nkramer: so , you blew it? \n\njerry: she must be psychotic or something. \n\nkramer: let me have her number. \n\njerry: i'm not giving you her number. \n\nkramer: i know how to handle these psychotics. \n\njerry: sheriff?........what's with the hat? \n\nkramer: (george takes off the hat , he's got that cream on again) pheeewwww! boy! you stink. \n\njerry: what are doing here now? \n\ngeorge: i have to talk to you about something . \n\nkramer: all right lets take a look to see what we got ( examines george's head) wait a second.. i think i see something here george. lets go to the videotape. \n\ngeorge: aahh..no..no.. \n\njerry: what's up? \n\ngeorge: i can't tell ya now , he's gonna be back in a ten seconds. \n\njerry: so just start it. \n\ngeorge: i can't. \n\njerry: oh! come om . he'll be over there for a half hour, he gets lost over there. c'mon so what is this about? \n\ngeorge: all right.........i've become attracted to elaine.. \n\nkramer: all right....sit down george. \n\ngeorge: kramer, can we do this later.. \n\nkramer: no, i got the tape right here. \n\njerry: kramer, let's do this later. \n\nkramer: (ignoring them) now.. this is the tape that we made earlier and i think, that i see. a couple of buds right here. \n\ngeorge: really? ..you think. \n\njerry: kramer. i would like to talk to george for a minute, please. \n\nkramer: 'bout what? \n\njerry: it's kinda private. \n\nkramer: like the big toe captain.. \n\ngeorge: so now you're doing my bits? \n\njerry: i'm not doing your bits!! \n\nkramer: okay , all right. i'm gonna take a look at this huh!.( leaves) \n\njerry: does she know? \n\ngeorge: no!! \n\njerry: how did it happen? \n\ngeorge: i can't say. \n\njerry: well, why can't you say it? \n\ngeorge: because i promised her. \n\njerry: i thought you just said she doesn't know?? \n\ngeorge: she doesn't. \n\njerry: so how can you promise her? \n\ngeorge: because she asked me to. \n\njerry: what is this, an abbott and costello routine? \n\ngeorge: all right you really want to know?...it all started when she told met hat...she was the voice on your tape recorder. \n\njerry: what, elaine? \n\ngeorge: yeah! she made me promise not to tell you .it's supposed to be a joke. \n\njerry: (picks up the headphones) that was elaine... \n\ngeorge: well let me hear....( they struggle for the headphones) \n\njerry: wait a second. .just give me a second \n\ngeorge: you heard it fifty times already. \n\njerry: she's my ex-girlfriend i think i have precedence \n\njerry: yeaaaah!!! \n\nelaine: hi, it's elaine is this a bad time? \n\ngeorge: (yelling from the bathroom) don't tell her anything, she'll kill me!! \n\njerry: okay, okay, i promise. (puts on the headphones again) wow!!! oh man...oh god.. oh brother....whoooaaaa!! whoaaaa (elaine enters he takes them off rapidly) \n\nelaine: (concerned) what's the matter? \n\njerry: oooh! i got a pain in my side. \n\nelaine: (to george returning) hi george. something stinks in here.( george motions to jerry, she nods) \n\njerry: what are you doing here? \n\nelaine: i was the one who talked into your tape recorder. \n\njerry: i know, george told me. \n\nelaine: you told him!!!! \n\ngeorge: he..he threatened me. \n\njerry: where did you come up with all that stuff? \n\nelaine: that was nothing. \n\ngeorge: elaine.. i have to tell you something... \n\njerry: george no!! \n\ngeorge: no no no no no no no.. \n\njerry: george i'm telling ya.. \n\nelaine: what is it? \n\ngeorge: i'm very attracted to you.. \n\njerry: aye...... \n\nkramer: i've found a hair!!! yes ( goes up to the video machine and inserts the tape) hey, come here, come here ,take a look at this. \n\ngeorge: ever since i found out that you let that message on jerry's tape recorder i... \n\nkramer: whoa!!!....that was you? \n\nelaine: it was a joke... \n\nkramer: wait..( picks up the walkman) oh my god...oh yeah....elaine , i can't believe that that is you. \n\nelaine: aah.... ( she stares at the three of them all lined up like the daltons, all looking at her with lust.) i think i'll get going... \n\ngeorge: heuh. huh. stick around a while. \n\njerry: it's early. \n\nkramer: we'll order chinese. \n\ngeorge: where'd you meet her? \n\njerry: i met her on an elevator. \n\ngeorge: on an elevator? you met a woman on an elevator? \n\njerry: impossible, right? \n\ngeorge: you got less than sixty seconds. that's like dismantling a time bomb. what got into you? \n\njerry: i don't know. she was so beautiful, it was like a pure reflex. the words just came out of my mouth. \n\ngeorge: wow. what'd you say? \n\njerry: you know, i'm the one responsible for those crop circles in england. \n\ngeorge: wow. \n\njerry: can you believe i did that? \n\ngeorge: what did she say? \n\nisabel: what crop circles? \n\njerry: not a good sign. \n\ngeorge: not everybody knows what the crop circles are. (to the newsstand owner) do you know what the crop circles are? \n\nnewsstand owner: crop circles? why don't you buy something? \n\njerry: you got something in your teeth there. \n\ngeorge: what? \n\njerry: it's green. \n\ngeorge: oh, man, it's spinach! i've been walking around like this all afternoon. \n\njerry: did you bump into anybody you knew? \n\ngeorge: i had a job interview. \n\njerry: how'd it go? \n\ngeorge: take a guess. \n\ninterviewer: well, mr. costanza, we have nothing available at the present time, but should anything open up, we'll be in touch. \n\ngeorge: ok, thanks. \n\njerry: what do you need a job, you got audrey. \n\ngeorge: yeah, right. \n\njerry: what's the matter? \n\ngeorge: oh, nothing. \n\njerry: what? \n\ngeorge: you won't think i'm a bad person? \n\njerry: too late for that. \n\ngeorge: 'cause believe me, i would only say this to you and maybe a psychiatrist, maybe. well, her nose is a little big. \n\njerry: yeah, she's got a big nose. \n\ngeorge: i mean, big would even be ok, a little beyond big. \n\njerry: it's a schnoz. \n\ngeorge: now, i'm aware that my own physical dimensions are perhaps a little short of perfection. \n\njerry: a little. \n\ngeorge: so who am i to be thinking about someone's nose? i mean, i should be grateful someone like her even looks at me. i have no job, nothing. but i have to say, i think about the nose. i don't want to think about the nose. i don't ask to think about the nose, but i think about it. i go to bed at night, i tell myself, 'don't think about the nose, forget the nose,' but i think about it. i look at her, i see nose. \n\njerry: stop being so concerned with looks. \n\njerry: have you said anything to her about it? \n\ngeorge: i could never do that. you know the ironic thing is if she had a smaller nose, i never could have gone out with her in the first place. she'd be out of my league with a smaller nose. and i really like her, i know that. and i know one other thing. i'm not getting past that nose. \n\njerry: alright, shut up, here they come. \n\ngeorge: (waving) how can i not think about it? look at the size of this thing. \n\nkramer: so my mother's going out with this guy who leaves a jacket in her house so, you know, she gives it to me. well, two years later he shows up and he takes it back. and now he's in prison. he got arrested for mail fraud. so elaine, all you have to do is go over to the apartment, tell the landlord that you're his daughter and you want to bring him the jacket in prison. \n\nelaine: won't the landlord know i'm not the daughter? \n\nkramer: no no, he's never met her. she's in california. \n\nelaine: are you coming with me? \n\nkramer: oh, yeah yeah, i have to. i'm your fianc, peter von nostrand. \n\ngeorge: why don't you just commit yourself already? \n\naudrey: what is so special about this jacket? \n\nelaine: he believes it possesses some extraordinary power over women. \n\naudrey: what's the smudge on your hand? \n\nkramer: oh, i got stamped at the reggae lounge last night. yeah, i'm going back there tonight, you know, i'm not gonna pay another cover charge. \n\ngeorge: what, you didn't wash all day? \n\nkramer: yeah, i washed, just not the hand. you wouldn't believe the women at this club. ohh, man. \n\naudrey: it's amazing how many beautiful women live in new york. i actually find it kind of intimidating. \n\nkramer: well, you're as pretty as any of them, you just need a nose job. \n\nelaine: kramer! \n\nkramer: what? what? \n\nelaine: how could you say something like that?! \n\nkramer: what? what do you mean? i just said she needs a nose job. \n\nelaine: no no, there's nothing wrong with her nose! i'm so sorry, audrey. \n\naudrey: no, it's ok. \n\nelaine: what did you have to say that for? \n\nkramer: well, i was just trying to help out. \n\nelaine: yeah? well, you can kiss that jacket goodbye, mr. von nozzin. \n\nkramer: you see what happens when you try to be nice? \n\naudrey: elaine said i could stay with her another month until tina gets back. what are you thinking about? \n\ngeorge: thinking? nothing. what could i possibly be thinking? \n\naudrey: you look like you've got something on your mind. \n\ngeorge: oh, yeah, right. i wish i had something on my mind. (pregnant pause) so how about that kramer, huh? \n\naudrey: how about him? \n\ngeorge: they way he just says stuff. \n\naudrey: he sure does. \n\ngeorge: yeah. yeah, he's quite a character. \n\naudrey: so, what did you think? \n\ngeorge: about the pizza? \n\naudrey: no, about the nose job. \n\ngeorge: oh, the nose job. i don't know, what did you think? \n\naudrey: well, i've thought about it, but i don't know. \n\ngeorge: yeah. (another pause) not that i care, one way or the other, but these doctors today really do amazing things, you know, if you were so inclined. and again, i'm not suggesting. \n\naudrey: i know, they're good. \n\ngeorge: peter jennings had one. \n\naudrey: really? \n\ngeorge: probably. they all do. in my high school, half my graduating class had them. of course, i'm from long island, so... \n\naudrey: uh huh. \n\ngeorge: it's really nothing, it's like going to the dentist. \n\naudrey: i hate the dentist. \n\ngeorge: it's a cleaning. \n\naudrey: so you really think i should do this? \n\ngeorge: if it makes you happy, i don't focus on these things. i will tell you this unfortunately, we live in a very superficial society. i don't condone it, but it's a fact of life. \n\naudrey: well, maybe i should. \n\ngeorge: what the hell. \n\nelaine: (barging in) aw, now you talked her into getting a nose job? \n\ngeorge: me? i didn't say anything. \n\nelaine: you encouraged her to get one. \n\ngeorge: i didn't encourage. no encourage. \n\nelaine: peter jennings had one? \n\ngeorge: it's possible. \n\nelaine: well, i think you should accept her for who she is. \n\naudrey: no, george is right. i want to get one. \n\nelaine: i think it's a mistake. \n\ngeorge: me too, really. unless you'd really like to get one. \n\ngeorge: i'm going straight to hell, no two ways about it. \n\njerry: well, it might not be hell but you're gonna run into some bad dudes. \n\ngeorge: (checking his watch) hey, let's get the check, she's taking the bandages off at four o'clock. \n\njerry: we have time. \n\ngeorge: it's exciting, isn't it? she's gonna have a whole new face. \n\njerry: it is exciting. \n\ngeorge: of course, not as exciting as miss crop circles, but... \n\njerry: please, please, isabel? she is the most despicable woman i have ever met in my life. i have never been so repulsed by someone mentally and so attracted to them physically at the same time. it's like my brain is facing my penis in a chess game. and i'm letting him win. \n\ngeorge: you're not letting him win. he wins till you're forty. \n\njerry: then what? \n\ngeorge: he still wins but it's not a blowout. \n\njerry: she wants to be an actress. she makes me read these moronic acting scenes with her, and i do it because i'm so addicted to the sex, i'm helpless, i'll do anything. so finally kramer comes in the other day. \n\njerry: (holding up a piece of paper) i don't want to see this woman anymore but i haven't got the will power to throw out her number. please, help me. help me. \n\nkramer: (taking the paper and tearing it to pieces) i'm proud of you. \n\njerry: so i'm never gonna see her again, i'm going cold turkey. \n\ngeorge: good for you. \n\njerry: i'll tell you, the sex... i mean, i was like an animal. i mean it was just completely uninhibited. \n\ngeorge: it's like going to the bathroom in front of a lot of people and not caring. \n\njerry: it's not like that at all. \n\nelaine: how do you even know the jacket is there? \n\nkramer: well i don't, i'm guessing. \n\ngeorge: okay, look, audrey, before you take the bandage off just remember that i was the one that encouraged you to do this, you know? now that you're gonna be a great beauty, let's not forget how this all began. you know, like if you'd listened to your friend, elaine, \n\naudrey: george? \n\ngeorge: yeah? \n\naudrey: enough. \n\njerry: alright, are we ready? come on, let's get this show on the road. \n\nelaine: are you sure you want us here for this? \n\naudrey: yes. \n\njerry: shouldn't a doctor do it? \n\naudrey: no, he said i could do it. okay, here goes. \n\ngeorge: very exciting, very exciting, it's like watching a birth. \n\nelaine: it looks good. \n\njerry: great job. \n\nkramer: you got butchered. \n\njerry: let's put him over here. \n\nkramer: (to a fleeing audrey) where are you going? \n\naudrey: (with hand covering nose) to the doctor! \n\nkramer: wait, wait, wait, i'll go with you. \n\nelaine: how ya feeling? \n\ngeorge: too much salt in my diet. \n\nelaine: can i get you anything? \n\ngeorge: nah, i'm good. \n\nelaine: you sure? anything? \n\ngeorge: mmm, no. boy, it really didn't come out too well, did it? \n\nelaine: no, it didn't. no, it didn't. \n\ngeorge: it's like, all dented. \n\nelaine: seems to be. \n\ngeorge: well, i'm sure they'll be able to fix it. you can't stop modern science. can't stop it, you can't stop it. can't stop science. can't be stopped, no way, no how, science just marches-- \n\nelaine: shut up, george. \n\ngeorge: shut up? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\ngeorge: interesting. \n\njerry: come on, kramer, seriously, give me her number! \n\nkramer: i don't have it, i threw it out. \n\njerry: you're lying! you got it, i want that number! \n\nkramer: i told you, i threw it out. \n\njerry: give it to me! \n\nkramer: you told me not to give it to you, you made me promise. \n\njerry: well, i changed my mind, i want that number. \n\nkramer: you said, no matter what you do or say, i'm not to give you the number. \n\njerry: i was lying, give it to me! \n\nkramer: no, you told me not to! \n\njerry: i want that number! \n\nkramer: alright! (flinging pieces of torn paper to the ground) yeah! yeah! yeah! (jerry falls to the floor and starts arranging pieces) look at you! look at what you've sunk to! look at what you've become! look in the mirror, cause you need help, jerry. you need help, because i can't stand by and do it anymore. it's turning my stomach! i can't stand around here watching you destroy yourself. it's eating me up inside! \n\naudrey: the doctor said that they need to build the lateral wall of the septum. over here... \n\ngeorge: yeah. \n\naudrey: you see this perinasal sinus cavity? \n\ngeorge: oh, i got it. \n\naudrey: you see how it's collapsing? that's what's causing this huge dent. \n\ngeorge: yeah, phew. \n\naudrey: so anyway, george, do you know what i was thinking about? \n\ngeorge: what? \n\naudrey: remember we talked about taking a trip together? \n\ngeorge: we did? \n\naudrey: yeah, we talked about going to hawaii? \n\ngeorge: hawaii? \n\naudrey: anyway, i think it would be great to get away after all this. \n\ngeorge: (removing his glasses) you know, hawaii could be a little tricky right now, there's a lot of high pressure winds down there this time of year, there's a lot of debris constantly flying around. wood, and uh, lava, pretty dangerous. \n\naudrey: i never heard that. \n\ngeorge: oh yeah. my friend lived there. \n\naudrey: we could go to the caribbean. \n\ngeorge: you know, i have to tell you something. you couldn't get me on a plane right now. i get those faa reports directly. my uncle sends them to me, he used to be a pilot, so. big investigation in the, uh, what's the word there, uh, offing. it's in the offing. but, you know, you shouldn't let that stop you from going. you could go. i don't mind. \n\naudrey: george, i don't think this is working. \n\nisabel: ever since you came back from the army, you've changed. i swear nelson, i don't even know who you are anymore. \n\njerry: i'm nelson! \n\nisabel: that's not the line, jerry. \n\njerry: alright, alright, i'm sorry. (reading) nothing's changed, alma, i just need more time. \n\nisabel: i swear, nelson, sometimes at night, when you're not around, i just go crazy thinking about you. \n\njerry: well, you just need to relax. maybe a hobby, bowling is fun. \n\nisabel: yeah, bowling's good if you're really gross and ugly. \n\njerry: (to himself uh oh. my organs are playing chess again. \n\njerry's brain: well i'm getting a little tired of this. what do you say we play one for all the marbles? \n\njerry's penis: oh brain, what are you doing? you cannot beat me. do you have any idea who you're dealing with? forget about it! \n\njerry's brain: i can't take her anymore. i hate reading her stupid little acting scenes. \n\njerry's penis: oh, so what? so you read from a little play. you can't put up with that for an hour to make me happy? you're so selfish. give me one hour, then i will take over, you will not have to think for the rest of the night. \n\njerry's brain: what about tomorrow morning? do you have any idea what that's like for me? do you care? no, you don't care. so long as you get to do whatever it is you do. you disgust me. \n\njerry's penis: oh, go read a book. \n\njerry's brain: enough chatting, let's play. \n\nelaine: you know the only reason i'm doing this is because you took audrey to the hospital. \n\nkramer: (filling a pipe) yeah, yeah, ok, now uh, you're clear, you got everything? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\nkramer: wait wait wait wait wait. (putting a ring on elaine's finger) here. \n\nelaine: what do i need this for? \n\nkramer: because we're engaged. \n\nelaine: we're engaged? \n\nkramer: um hm. \n\nelaine: kramer, this is too big. \n\nkramer: (lighting his pipe) it's my mom's. \n\nlandlord: hello? \n\nelaine: oh, uh, hi. i'm wanda pepper, i'm albert pepper's daughter. my father asked me to come here and pick up his jacket for him. \n\nlandlord: oh, hello miss pepper, it's a pleasure to meet you. (to kramer) and you must be professor von nostrand? \n\nkramer: yes, yes i am. \n\nlandlord: i've read your book, professor, and i was quite intrigued by it. \n\nkramer: uh, yes. well, it's, uh, very intriguing. \n\nlandlord: tell me, is it your contention that shakespeare was an imposter? \n\nkramer: my contention? \n\nlandlord: yes, your contention. \n\nkramer: yes, that's my contention. \n\nelaine: i heard him contend that. \n\nlandlord: it's too bad about your father. \n\nelaine: oh, it was a frame-up. \n\nlandlord: a fine man, he spoke often of you. he's very proud of the work you're doing. \n\nelaine: oh, well, we're all proud of the work i'm doing. \n\nkramer: she does fine work. \n\nlandlord: your father gave me strict orders not to turn the jacket over to anyone, but i suppose i can make an exception in your case. the closet's this way. \n\nelaine: how kind of you. \n\nlandlord: you know, your father has a very extensive wardrobe. \n\njerry's brain: what's the matter, fella? you look a little tired. ha ha ha ha ha! \n\nisabel: nelson, don't you see? you are a part of me, and i, i am a part of you. \n\njerry's penis: it's killing me. (makes a move) \n\njerry's brain: that's your move? \n\njerry's penis: yeah. \n\njerry's brain: well that's trouble, my friend. that's big trouble. checkmate! \n\njerry's penis: (beginning to cough and struggle) getting weak... losing power... you haven't seen the last of me. i'll be back. you're nothing without me. nothing! \n\njerry's brain: (before disappearing himself) punk. \n\njerry: isabel, uh, i don't think this is working. \n\nelaine: daddy certainly does have an extensive wardrobe. \n\nlandlord: he is a fine dresser and i'm sure i don't have to tell you he's quite popular with the ladies. \n\nelaine: my father, really? i had no idea. \n\nlandlord: yes, they're crazy about him. there was one in particular, came around about two years ago, looked a lot like you, professor. could have been your mother. what was her name again? carter? kramer! that's it, babs \n\nkramer: you don't say? \n\nelaine: i found it! \n\nlandlord: the woman used to walk around here half naked, sucking colt 45 from a can. her big fat stomach hanging out, orthopedic hose up to her knees, screaming down the hall, \"come back to bed, albert, you big hairy ape, and bring back that box of danish!\" \n\nkramer: so i grabbed the guy by the collar. \n\nelaine: yeah, and i yelled out, kramer! kramer, you're killing him!\" \n\njerry: so i assume the jig was up. \n\nelaine: yeah, pretty much. \n\naudrey: hi. \n\nelaine: hi! \n\njerry: hey. \n\naudrey: (to george) hello. \n\ngeorge: (smitten) audrey? my god, you look incredible! i can't believe it! \n\naudrey: (motioning to kramer) well, it was his doctor. he was wonderful. \n\nelaine: so, will i see you later tonight? \n\naudrey: not sure. \n\nkramer: (rising and putting his arm around audrey's shoulder) well, i'll check you guys out later. (to audrey) ready? \n\naudrey: (holding up her hand to show the stamp) i didn't wash. \n\nkramer: neither did i. we're off to the reggae lounge. \n\nelaine: (after they leave) isn't she beautiful? her nose is in such perfect proportion with the rest of her face. she's breathtaking! who would have though she's like-- \n\ngeorge: (interrupting) elaine. shut up. \n\njerry: how did you get fleas? \n\ngeorge: because my cousin's imbecile dog was rolling around outside and they got in his carpet. \n\njerry: maybe you can get yourself a little bowtie flea collar. \n\ngeorge: that's not funny. so, are you coming to the party? \n\njerry: i'd go, but long island, it's so far out, it smacks of desperation. the whole party, everyone's gonna be saying to me, \"you came all the way out from manhattan for this?\" \n\ngeorge: you know ava's gonna be there. \n\njerry: who? \n\ngeorge: the nice one that works in my office. \n\njerry: nah. \n\ngeorge: i'll drive. \n\njerry: oh, well, now you're talking. \n\ngeorge: it's supposed to be a good party. \n\njerry: what does that mean, good dip? \n\ngeorge: no, there'll be girls there. \n\njerry: there's girls everywhere. i go out of my apartment, there's girls in the elevator. they're in cafeterias, subways, so what? \n\ngeorge: there's a hundred different things here. what's the difference between these two? (they each grab a box and check the ingredients) you got propylparabin? \n\njerry: got it. \n\ngeorge: you got isobutane-30? \n\njerry: i got isobutane-20. \n\ngeorge: a-ha. \n\njerry: you got sorbitant sesquioliate? \n\ngeorge: got it. \n\njerry: i have aloe! \n\ngeorge: you got aloe? i love aloe. \n\njerry: where do they make yours? \n\ngeorge: jersey. \n\njerry: white plains. \n\njerry: girls. there's girls right here in the store. look, look, there's one over there. look, there's another one. soon as i walk outside there'll be girls out there. what's the matter? \n\ngeorge: i gave her a twenty, she only gave me change for a ten. \n\njerry: are you sure? oh boy, here we go. \n\ngeorge: (to the cashier) excuse me, i gave you a twenty dollar bill and you only actually gave me change for a ten. \n\ncashier: you gave me a ten. \n\ngeorge: i'm positive i gave you a twenty. \n\ncashier: i know what you gave me. \n\ngeorge: you owe me ten dollars. \n\ncashier: will you please step aside? next? \n\ngeorge: alright, let's just examine the situation for a second. who, in this situation, would be more likely to make a mistake? me, who had access to my wallet, knew exactly what was in there? or you-- \n\ncashier: you. \n\ngeorge: no, no, no, see you're not really listening. \n\nsecurity guard: what's the problem here? \n\ngeorge: no problem. there's no problem. she just owes me ten dollars, that's all. \n\ncashier: he's claiming short. \n\nsecurity guard: alright, let's just take it outside. \n\ngeorge: oh, so you don't believe me either? \n\nsecurity guard: come on, let's go. \n\ngeorge: you haven't won. you may think you've won, but you haven't won. do you know why? it's not over. this is not over. i'm not forgetting what's happening here. you have my ten dollars. i will get it back. alright, don't worry. it's not over. i'm going now. good bye. i will be back. \n\nelaine: well don't stand here, let's walk in, blend in, blend in. \n\njerry: no, let's survey first. camp here. \n\ngeorge: (waving eva. \n\njerry: what could possess anyone to throw a party? i mean, to have a bunch of strangers treat your house like a hotel room. \n\nava: so, guess who just sold 129 west 81st. \n\ngeorge: oh no you didn't. get out, when? \n\nava: yesterday \n\ngeorge: i don't believe it. \n\nava: ask mark. \n\ngeorge: mark, is this true? \n\njerry: yeah, this has got disaster written all over it. \n\nelaine: how did i ever let you talk me into this, i must have been out of my mind. \n\njerry: now listen, let's keep an eye on each other tonight. in case one of us gets in a bad conversation, we should have a signal that you're in trouble so the other one can get us out of it. \n\nelaine: how old are you? \n\njerry: thirty-six. what's the signal? howbout this? chicken wing? no, no, no, i got a better one. head patting. \n\nelaine: whatever you want. \n\nguy: you came all the way out from manhattan for this? \n\njerry: yeah, yeah i did. \n\nguy: so what do you do? \n\njerry: (patting his head i'm a comedian. \n\nguy: are you? lemme ask you something. where do you get your material? \n\njerry: (still patting) i hear a voice. \n\nguy: what kind of voice? \n\njerry: a man's voice, but he speaks in german so i have to get a translator. \n\nguy: how come you keep tapping your head. \n\njerry: it's a nervous tic. i'm on l-dopa. \n\nguy: on the other hand, you take a guy like george washington carver. the man devoted his whole life to the peanut. imagine having so much passion for something. \n\nguy: ya know, people tell me i'm a funny guy. \n\nguy: i've often wondered if he ever worked with the pecan. \n\nelaine: yeah, me too. \n\nguy: now is that considered a nut, because i know the cashew is a legume. \n\ngeorge: how's it going? \n\njerry: great, how about you? \n\ngeorge: i can't believe what's happening here. she hasn't taken her hands off me all night. she was always friendly around the office, but that was it. \n\njerry: how do you account for this? \n\ngeorge: i don't know, maybe a safe fell on her head. \n\njerry: well, she obviously liked you all along. \n\ngeorge: no, i would have picked up on it. i can always tell when a woman likes me, they always somehow let you know. with me, they could torture me, i wouldn't tell them. if anything i'd try to make them think i don't like them, then they think, \"oh, look at this guy, he's not even looking at me, he must have something going for him.\" \n\njerry: anyway, i'm ready to go. \n\ngeorge: now? \n\njerry: if not now, when? \n\ngeorge: gimme a half-hour. \n\njerry: okay, half-hour. \n\nguy: peanut brittle, peanut butter, peanut oil... \n\njerry: (interrupting) can i talk to you for a second? \n\nelaine: oh, excuse me. (gets up to talk with jerry) what have you been doing, i've been smacking myself senseless. people think i'm a mental patient. \n\njerry: hey, i was dying over there. \n\nelaine: this guy's going off on the peanut. now pay attention. \n\nellen: yeah, i think i've seen you in a club. you talk about a lot of everyday things, right? \n\njerry: right. \n\nellen: yeah, i remember you. \n\nwoman: i wonder what happened to my fianc. i know he's here somewhere. ellen? have you seen my fianc? \n\nellen: he's upstairs. \n\nwoman: are you going upstairs? tell my fianc i'm looking for him. i havelost my fianc, the poor baby. \n\nelaine: maybe the dingo ate your baby. \n\nwoman: what? \n\nelaine: the dingo ate your baby! \n\njerry: you ready? \n\ngeorge: listen, i have a tremendous favor to ask. \n\njerry: i do favors. \n\ngeorge: i think something's happening here. \n\njerry: what? \n\ngeorge: i think she wants me to take her home. \n\njerry: wow. \n\ngeorge: what should i do? \n\njerry: go! what could you do? \n\ngeorge: what about you and elaine? \n\njerry: we'll get a ride. \n\ngeorge: are you sure? \n\njerry: we'll be fine, what did she say? \n\ngeorge: she told me she wants-- (pauses until a woman coming down the stairs passes) she told me she wants me to make love to her. \n\njerry: what? she said that? \n\ngeorge: yeah. \n\njerry: get out of here. \n\ngeorge: i swear. \n\njerry: what did you say? \n\ngeorge: i, i, i can't. \n\njerry: what did you say? \n\ngeorge: please, it's-- \n\njerry: what? \n\ngeorge: i... i... i long for you. \n\njerry: i long for you? \n\ngeorge: i was so shocked i was lucky i said anything. \n\njerry: it's okay, that's not bad. \n\ngeorge: i don't like when a woman says, 'make love to me', it's intimidating. the last time a woman said that to me, i wound up apologizing to her. \n\njerry: really? \n\ngeorge: that's a lot of pressure. make love to me. what am i, in the circus? what if i can't deliver? \n\njerry: oh, come on. \n\ngeorge: i can't perform under pressure. that's why i never play anything for money, i choke. i could choke tonight. and she works in my office, can you imagine? she goes around telling everyone what happened? maybe i should cancel, i have a very bad feeling about this. \n\njerry: george, you're thinking too much. \n\ngeorge: i know, i know, i can't stop it! \n\nelaine: well, right now i'm reading manuscripts for pendant publishing. \n\njerry: (walking up) pendant? those bastards. \n\nelaine: excuse me. \n\njerry: listen, george is going home with this ava from his office \n\nelaine: really? huh. what a world. so we can go now? \n\njerry: uh, no, he's taking the car. \n\nelaine: well, what are we gonna do for a ride? \n\njerry: i don't know. \n\nelaine: you don't know? \n\njerry: maybe kramer can come pick us up. \n\nelaine: oh great, oh, this is great. how could you let him take the car? \n\njerry: there's nothing i could do, it's part of the code. \n\nelaine: (noticing ava in a fur) oh look at that. look at what she's wearing. you see what she's wearing? \n\njerry: yeah, yeah, alright. \n\nelaine: i can't believe she's walking around in that. \n\njerry: just don't make a scene. \n\nelaine: hey, is that real fur? \n\njerry: oh boy. \n\nava: it better be or my ex-husband owes me an explanation. \n\ngeorge: yeah, good night. \n\nelaine: you don't care that innocent defenseless animals are being tortured so that you can look good? \n\ngeorge: could we talk about this some other time? \n\nava: are you a vegetarian? \n\njerry: here we go. \n\nelaine: yeah, i eat fish occasionally. \n\nava: so you're a hypocrite. \n\ngeorge: hey, i've eaten frogs, so nobody's perfect. anyway- \n\nava: well, talk to me when you stop eating fish. \n\nelaine: fish don't feel any pain. \n\nava: how do you know? do you communicate with fish? \n\nelaine: well, they're not kept in little cages. \n\nava: ever seen a goldfish? \n\ngeorge: goldfish. \n\nelaine: yeah, yeah i've seen goldfish. they're not unhappy. \n\nava: oh yeah, right. swim around in a bowl for two weeks and get flushed down the toilet, that's a good life. (to george) let's go. \n\nelaine: oh yeah, that's right. go ahead, go ahead, maybe you can run over a squirrel! \n\ngeorge: that's why we're here in america. \n\njerry: you're beautiful. \n\nelaine: call kramer. \n\njerry: alright. (approaches host) excuse me, this is your party, right? \n\nsteve: no, i just live here. \n\njerry: can i use your phone? \n\nsteve: what's in it for me? \n\njerry: a bigger bill? \n\nsteve: he he, go for it. \n\njerry: krame? sein. what are you doing? well, i'm stuck out here on long island. what are your thoughts about taking a ride? you sure? okay, but don't leave me hanging here. okay, great. let me give you directions. \n\nelaine: you sure you don't need any help? \n\njenny: no, not really. \n\njerry: i'm sure he'll be here any minute. \n\njenny: (to steve) i want them out of here. \n\nelaine: call him again. \n\njerry: i called, what should i do? (to jenny) we really appreciate this. \n\njenny: (to steve) it's two o'clock in the morning. \n\njerry: (noticing a coffee table book) oh, you got the civil war book. i saw some of that show, it was wonderful. \n\nelaine: six hundred and twenty million people died. \n\njerry: thousand. \n\nelaine: thousand. six hundred and twenty thousand. the horror, the horror. (to jerry) the wife keeps giving us dirty looks. are you sure you gave him the right directions? \n\njerry: yes. (to jenny) you're sure there's nothing we can do? \n\njenny: no! (to steve) i am not going to bed with them in our house, this is ridiculous. \n\njerry: you know a friend of my father's used to live right around here. mike wichter. he sold plastic straws. you know the ones? you could bend them. \n\nelaine: have you noticed, people don't use straws as much as they used to for some reason. \n\njenny: you know, it doesn't look as if your friend is coming. \n\njerry: oh, he's coming. \n\njenny: maybe you should take a look at a train schedule. \n\njerry: that's him. \n\njenny: i'm going to bed! \n\nelaine: thanks a lot. \n\njerry: thanks, great party. \n\nkramer: hey, how ya doing? \n\nsteve: ah, look who's here. \n\nkramer: i'm sorry. \n\njerry: hey, it's okay. \n\nkramer: i had the directions on the seat right next to me, they flew out the window. \n\nelaine: then how did you find the place? \n\nkramer: well i knew the exit on the long island expressway, and i thought that the address was 8713 riviera drive. uh uh, so i drove around knocking on everybody's doors that had those numbers; 8317, 7813, 3718, 1837, whoo. finally, i hit it. 8173. \n\njerry: anyway, thanks a lot for letting us stay here, steve, i really owe you one. \n\nsteve: no problem. \n\njerry: and if you're ever in the city, you know, you want to come to a comedy club, whatever. \n\nsteve: hey, i might take you up on that. \n\njerry: (writing) here's my address and number. and really, thanks again. \n\nkramer: (to elaine) you better zip up. i couldn't get the top on the convertible up. \n\nelaine: but it's cold out. \n\nkramer: yeah, wait till we get on the expressway. \n\njerry: george, i've been sick all week. elaine was too. eighty miles an hour, forty degree temperature for fifty minutes. do the math. yeah, maybe i will get out. hey, let me just stop off at the drug store first. okay, meet me down there in fifteen minutes then we'll go do something. yeah, selwyn's. okay bye. \n\njerry: who is it? \n\nvoice: mr. pocatello. \n\njerry: who? \n\nvoice: you mean you don't recognize my voice? \n\nsteve: jerry, baby! \n\njerry: do i know you? \n\nsteve: boy this comedy's really frying your brain. \n\njerry: i'm sorry, uh- \n\nsteve: see, this is the kind of lasting impression i make on people. \n\njerry: oh, okay. \n\nsteve: you said if i was ever in the city, i'm in the city. \n\njerry: you certainly are. what's going on? \n\nsteve: i'm just waiting for a lift back to the island, he won't be ready until eleven, so i figured i'd give you a break. i thought i'd see what it was like to hang out with someone in show business. \n\njerry: listen, i'm really sorry but i'm just on my way out to meet a friend. \n\nsteve: oh, come on, you can come up with something better than that. \n\njerry: no, really, i just got off the phone with him. \n\nsteve: i understand. \n\njerry: look, you can hang out here if you want. \n\nsteve: don't be so enthusiastic. \n\njerry: no, it's- \n\nsteve: i'm not gonna steal anything. \n\njerry: no, of course not, just close the door when you leave. \n\nsteve: i think i can do that. \n\njerry: really, i'm sorry. maybe another time. \n\nsteve: yeah. let's have lunch. \n\njerry: they guy's in my house right now. what a mistake that party was, i never should have gone. \n\ngeorge: yeah, me either. \n\njerry: oh, come on. \n\ngeorge: what come on? have you ever dated a woman that worked in your office? \n\njerry: i've never had a job. \n\ngeorge: you know the anxiety you feel on a date? that's what i have every day now. my worst nightmare's come true, every day is a date. \n\njerry: that's one of dante's nine stages of hell, isn't it? \n\ngeorge: ava was one of the reasons i used to like going to work, she was a friend. now we sleep together and suddenly, i don't know how to talk to her. every time i go to the bathroom i pass her desk. i have to plan little patter. i spend half my day writing. then afterwards, i sit in my office and analyze how it went. if it was a good conversation, i don't go to the bathroom for the rest of the day. i see her laughing and talking with other people, they're all so loose and relaxed, i think, 'that used to be me. i want to go back there again.' \n\njerry: what are you gonna do? \n\ngeorge: i have no choice, i'm quitting. \n\nkramer: the party, long island? \n\nsteve: kramer, right? \n\nkramer: hey, what are you doing here? \n\nsteve: i'm waiting for my ride. \n\nkramer: where's jerry? \n\nsteve: he split. let me ask you something. is there anything to drink in here or is that, like, a stupid question? \n\nkramer: well, jerry, he doesn't have anything. (sensing steve's disappointment) well, but i might have something. \n\njerry: alright, i'm gonna get this. this looks good. \n\ngeorge: how much is that? \n\njerry: nine sixty. \n\ngeorge: nine sixty? give it to me. \n\njerry: why? \n\ngeorge: don't worry, i got it. \n\njerry: what do you mean, you got it? \n\ngeorge: i got it. \n\njerry: since when are you treating me to medicine? what are you doing? you're stealing this, aren't you? \n\ngeorge: i'm not stealing it. they owe me ten dollars. they stole from me. \n\njerry: you're a lunatic. \n\ngeorge: i have to do this, it's a matter of honor. \n\njerry: what do you say to a person like you? \n\ngeorge: just walk. \n\njerry: oh. \n\nsecurity guard: scuse me. what do you got there? \n\ngeorge: what? \n\nsecurity guard: what do you got in your shirt? \n\ngeorge: oh, i was gonna pay for this. \n\nsecurity guard: (grabbing george by the elbow and walking him to the counter) come with me. \n\ngeorge: (nervous) where are you taking me? i was gonna pay for it. \n\ncashier: um-hmm. \n\nsecurity guard: you don't think i remember you? \n\ngeorge: (more nervous) what are you talking about? \n\nsecurity guard: i know who you are, i was watching you. \n\ngeorge: (panicky) what are you gonna do? are you gonna call the police? \n\njerry: can i still buy this or is this evidence now? \n\nkramer: so, i'm chasing these doves down the street and she's screaming at the top of her lungs, and then when the magician comes back from europe, two of them turned brown! well i followed the instructions! \n\nsteve: (hysterical) ah, they turned brown!! brown!! (the laughter winds down) so let me ask you something, you know any women we could call? \n\nkramer: not really. \n\nsteve: maybe we should call one of those escort services. i saw one of them advertised before on the cable station. \n\nkramer: (handing steve the phone) 555-love. \n\nsteve: hey, you want in on this? \n\nkramer: no, i got a girl in the next building \n\nvoice: now i want my money, mister, and i ain't leaving until i get it. now i am through playing games with you, i got things to do. \n\nsteve: (drunk and slurring) oh jerry! jerry! look who's here, it's jerry \n\njerry: what the hell? \n\nsteve: jerry, this is patti. \n\njerry: nice to meet you. \n\npatti: it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, i'm sure. \n\njerry: what the hell is going on here? \n\nsteve: i don't know, but i gotta do this more often. (the buzzer goes off) ooh, there's my ride, finally. \n\npatti: i'm not gonna go anywhere until i get the rest of my money. \n\nsteve: see ya, jerr. and tell kramer thanks and i'll call him tomorrow. \n\njerry: oh, kramer huh? \n\nsteve: yeah, he's a hoot. oh, goodbye, my dear. (trying to kiss patti's hand as she pulls it away) ouch. (to jerry) weekend of the 26th, come on out, we're having another party. \n\npatti: i ain't leaving. \n\njerry: patti? \n\npatti: you got anything to drink? \n\njerry: alright, how much does he owe you? \n\npatti: fifty dollars. \n\njerry: (taking out his wallet and handing over bills grudgingly) fifty dollars. \n\ncop: this your apartment? \n\njerry: yeah, but-- \n\ncop: you're under arrest for solicitation of prostitution. \n\njerry: wait a second, i-- \n\nelaine: i brought you chicken soup. (to patti) is that real fur? \n\njerry & cop: oh boy. \n\ngeorge: you had sgt. chadway? me too. \n\njerry: he was a nice guy. \n\ngeorge: oh, great guy. \n\njerry: was there a red-headed guy there? \n\ngeorge: the one with the long sideburns? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: where does he come off? \n\njerry: yeah, i know. there's no call for that kind of attitude. \n\ngeorge: one of the guys in my cell threw a piece of gum at him. \n\njerry: oh, we all hated him. \n\njerry: do you believe this? the car was parked right out front. \n\ngeorge: was the alarm on? \n\njerry: i don't know, i guess it was on. i don't know my alarm sound; i'm not tuned in to it like it's my son. \n\ngeorge: i don't understand, how do these thieves start the car? \n\njerry: they cross the wires or something. \n\ngeorge: cross the wires? i can't even make a pot of spaghetti. \n\njerry: they stole my car. \n\nkramer: who did? \n\njerry: they did. \n\nkramer: was it more than just one? \n\njerry: what should i do, should i call the police? \n\nkramer: what are they gonna do? \n\njerry: i'd better call the car phone company, cancel my service. \n\ngeorge: maybe you should call your car phone. \n\njerry: yeah, he's probably driving it right now. \n\ngeorge: wait a minute, call the car phone, see what happens. \n\njerry: are you serious? \n\ngeorge: yeah, go ahead, call. \n\njerry: i don't even know if i remember the number. \n\njerry: what do i say if he picks up? \n\ncar thief: hello? \n\njerry: hello? is this 555-8383? \n\ncar thief: i have no idea. \n\njerry: can i ask you a question? \n\ncar thief: sure. \n\njerry: did you steal my car? \n\ncar thief: yes i did. \n\njerry: you did?! \n\ncar thief: i did. \n\njerry: that's my car! \n\ncar thief: i didn't know it was yours. \n\njerry: what are you gonna do with it? \n\ncar thief: i dunno, drive around. \n\njerry: then can i have it back? \n\ncar thief: mmmm, nah, i'm gonna keep it. \n\nkramer: hello? \n\ncar thief: yeah, who's this? \n\nkramer: kramer. \n\ncar thief: hello, kramer. \n\nkramer: listen, there's a pair of gloves in the glove compartment. \n\ncar thief: wait, hold on... brown ones? \n\nkramer: yeah. listen, could you mail those to me? or bring them by my building, it's 129 west 81st st. \n\ncar thief: one-two-nine, okay. \n\nkramer: thanks a lot, uh here's jerry. \n\njerry: (derisively at kramer) gloves. (into the phone) hello? \n\ncar thief: jerry? \n\njerry: yeah, let me ask you a question. how do you cross those wires? \n\ncar thief: i didn't cross any wires, the keys were in it. \n\njerry: sid left the keys in the car. alright, i gotta go. drive carefully. \n\ncar thief: jerry, when's the last time you had a tune-up? because i can't find the-- \n\njerry: sid left the keys in the car. \n\ngeorge: who's sid? \n\njerry: he's this guy in the neighborhood, parks cars on the block. \n\ngeorge: what do you mean? \n\njerry: he moves them from one side of the street to the other so you don't get a ticket. \n\ngeorge: what, do you pay him for that? \n\njerry: yeah, like fifty bucks a month. \n\ngeorge: how many people does he do that for? \n\njerry: the whole block, forty, fifty cars. \n\nkramer: he only works three hours a day. he makes a fortune. course he's been doing that for years, right jerry? \n\ngeorge: could anybody do that? \n\njerry: hey sid, what happened? \n\nsid: i'm sorry, jerry. maybe i'm getting too old for this stuff. \n\njerry: you left the keys in the car? \n\nsid: well, you know they're making that woody allen movie in the block, and all those people and trucks everywhere, when i saw him i must have got a little distracted. \n\nkramer: you know i'm in that movie? \n\ngeorge: you are? \n\nkramer: yeah, i'm an extra. \n\ngeorge: how'd you get that? \n\nkramer: well, i was just watching them film yesterday and some guy just asked me. \n\ngeorge: right out of the clear blue sky? \n\nkramer: clear blue sky! \n\ngeorge: well, why didn't they ask me? \n\nkramer: i got a quality. \n\nsid: jerry, you got insurance, right? \n\njerry: yeah, but no car. i'll have to rent one. \n\nsid: well i'm going down to visit my sister in virginia next wednesday, for a week, so i can't park it. \n\njerry: this wednesday? \n\nsid: no, next wednesday, week after this wednesday. \n\njerry: but the wednesday two days from now is the next wednesday. \n\nsid: if i meant this wednesday, i would have said this wednesday. it's the week after this wednesday. \n\ngeorge: sid, who's gonna move the cars while you're away? \n\nsid: whoever wants to move them, why do i care who moves them? they can move themselves if they want. \n\ngeorge: maybe i could move them until you get back. \n\nsid: what's a young man like you want to move cars for? you don't work? \n\ngeorge: i'm in a transition phase right now. \n\nsid: well if you want to move the cars, move the cars. just don't forget to take the keys out, that's all. \n\njerry: hello? yeah, the defroster's the one on the bottom, just slide it all the way over. you're welcome. \n\nelaine: i'm in awe of his intellect, when he talks it sounds like he's reading from one of his novels. \n\njerry: owen march, i never heard of him. \n\nelaine: well, he's not a baseball player. \n\njerry: yeah, that's true. well it sounds like it's going pretty good. \n\nelaine: yeah. well, there is one little problem. \n\njerry: what's that? \n\nelaine: he's sixty-six years old. \n\nrental car agent: next please. \n\nelaine: well, go, go. \n\nrental car agent: can i help you? name please? \n\njerry: seinfeld. i made a reservation for a mid-size, and she's a small. i'm kidding around, of course. \n\nrental car agent: okay, let's see here. \n\njerry: sixty-six years old? \n\nelaine: yeah, well, he's in perfect health. he works out, he's vibrant. you'd really like him. \n\njerry: why do people always say that? i hate everyone, why would i like him? \n\nelaine: what do you think, would you go out with a sixty-six year old woman? \n\njerry: well, i'll tell you, she would have to be really vibrant. so vibrant, she'd be spinning. \n\nrental car agent: i'm sorry, we have no mid-size available at the moment. \n\njerry: i don't understand, i made a reservation, do you have my reservation? \n\nrental car agent: yes, we do, unfortunately we ran out of cars. \n\njerry: but the reservation keeps the car here. that's why you have the reservation. \n\nrental car agent: i know why we have reservations. \n\njerry: i don't think you do. if you did, i'd have a car. see, you know how to take the reservation, you just don't know how to *hold* the reservation and that's really the most important part of the reservation, the holding. anybody can just take them. \n\nrental car agent: let me, uh, speak with my supervisor. \n\njerry: uh, here we go. the supervisor. you know what she's saying over there? \n\nelaine: what? \n\njerry: hey marge, you see those two people over there? they think i'm talking to you, so you pretend like you're talking to me, okay now you start talking. \n\nelaine: oh, you mean like this? so it looks like i'm saying something but i'm not really saying anything at all? \n\njerry: now you say something else and they won't yell at me 'cause they thought i was checking with you. \n\nelaine: okay, that's it. i think that's enough, see you later. \n\nrental car agent: i'm sorry, my supervisor says there's nothing we can do. \n\njerry: yeah, it looked as if you were in a real conversation over there. \n\nrental car agent: but we do have a compact if you would like that. \n\njerry: fine. \n\nrental car agent: alright. we have a blue ford escort for you mr. seinfeld. would you like insurance? \n\njerry: yeah, you better give me the insurance, because i am gonna beat the hell out of this car. \n\nrental car agent: please fill this out. \n\nelaine: what do you think, you think i'm making a big mistake? \n\njerry: hey, if you enjoy being with him, that's what's important. \n\nelaine: i love being with him. i mean, i like being with him. it's okay being with him. \n\nelaine: i just don't enjoy being with him. \n\njerry: well that's what's important. \n\nelaine: i'm meeting him for lunch at chadway's around the corner, do i have to break up with him face to face or can i just wait and do it over the phone? \n\njerry: how many times you been out with him? \n\nelaine: seven? \n\njerry: face to face. \n\nelaine: seven dates is a face-to-face break up? \n\njerry: if it was six i could have let you go, but seven, i'm afraid, is over the limit. unless, of course, there was no sex. \n\nelaine: hmm... how's the pasta over there? \n\nkramer: whoa, whoa!! \n\njerry: what is going on out there? \n\ngeorge: i need like a bucket of water! i got a car overheating, i got an alarm that won't go off, i'm pressing 'one', i'm pressing 'two', nothing! what do i do?! help me! help me! \n\nkramer: hey, you know they were supposed to do my scene today? \n\nelaine: today?! \n\nkramer: you know they told me that they wanted me to walk down the block carrying this bag of groceries. \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\nkramer: so i start to walk, and i trip, and the grocery bag goes flying, and woody, woody starts laughing. \n\nelaine: he was laughing?! \n\nkramer: oh yeah, he was drinking something, it started to come out of his nose. \n\njerry: so then what? \n\nkramer: i got a line in the movie! \n\nelaine: get out! \n\njerry: that's great! \n\ngeorge: you got a line in the woody allen movie? \n\nkramer: pretty good, huh? \n\ngeorge: you're in the movie? is he in the scene? \n\nkramer: oh yeah, yeah, it's me and him. i might have a whole new career on my hands, huh? \n\njerry: you mean *a* career. \n\nelaine: so was mia farrow there? \n\nkramer: uh, i didn't see him. \n\nelaine: what's your line? \n\nkramer: oh, well uh, okay i'm there with, uh, woody, you know, i'm at this bar and, uh, i'm sit-- you know it's woody allen, did i mention that? \n\nkramer: so i'm sitting there with woody and i say, i turn to him and i go, \"boy, these pretzels are making me thirsty.\" \n\ngeorge: is that how you're gonna say it? \n\nkramer: no, no, i'm working on it. \n\nelaine: do it like this. \"these pretzels are making me thirsty.\" \n\njerry: no. \"these pretzels are making me thirsty.\" \n\nkramer: no, no. see, that's no good. see, you don't know how to act. \n\ngeorge: \"these pretzels are making me thirsty!!\" \n\ngeorge: that was no good? \n\nkramer: i didn't say anything. \n\nelaine: i'm gonna go break up with owen. \n\ngeorge: what was wrong with that? i had a different interpretation! do you know anything about this pretzel guy?! maybe he's been in the bar a really long time and he's really depressed because he has no job and no woman and he's parking cars for a living! (out the window to honking cars) alright! alright! shut up! shut up! i hear you! i'm coming down! these pretzels are making me thirsty! \n\njerry: oh my god. \n\nelaine: call an ambulance. \n\njerry: boy, he took it hard. \n\nelaine: we were walking down the block right by your house and i was just about to break up with him then all of a sudden he started to twitch. \n\njerry: (on the phone) hello? yes, i need an ambulance at one twenty nine west eighty-first street, apartment five-a. \n\nelaine: tell then to hurry! hurry! \n\njerry: (to elaine) it's an ambulance. (to the operator) i don't know but he's unconscious. \n\nkramer: these pretzels are making me thirsty. (he bites into a pretzel.) boy, these pretzels are making me thirsty. \n\njerry: kramer. \n\nkramer: what happened here? \n\nelaine: i don't know, i don't know, what should we do? we called an ambulance, does anyone know first aid? \n\njerry: shouldn't you do something with the extremities? \n\nelaine: what extremities? \n\nkramer: what's an extremity? \n\njerry: you raise the feet, get blood to the head. \n\nkramer: you raise the head, you get blood to the feet. \n\nelaine: okay, what about a cold compress? they always do that. \n\njerry: i don't have a washcloth. \n\nelaine: well use a paper towel. \n\njerry: you can't put a paper towel on his head. \n\nkramer: what about a big sponge? \n\njerry: how you gonna hold it on there? \n\nkramer: use a belt. \n\nelaine: no no no no no, that'll, it'll drip all over him. \n\njerry: should we walk him around? \n\nelaine and kramer: (at the same time) yes, yes. \n\nkramer: yeah, i've seen them do that. \n\njerry: no, no that's for a drug overdose. \n\nkramer: maybe that's what he's got. \n\nelaine: no no no no, kramer, i just had lunch with him, he didn't leave the table. \n\nkramer: well he could have dropped acid when you weren't looking. \n\nelaine: he is not a drug addict! \n\njerry: hey, you know what? maybe he's a diabetic, he might just need a cookie or something. \n\nelaine: a cookie! \n\nkramer: can you give him a cookie? \n\nelaine: how's he gonna chew it? \n\njerry: we'll move his teeth, it happened to my uncle, the sugar revived him. \n\nelaine: careful, you're getting crumbs all over him. \n\nkramer: i got him chewing but i don't think he's gonna swallow. \n\nelaine: you know what, let's put a few cookies in a blender and he could drink it. \n\njerry: cookies don't liquefy. \n\nelaine: yes they do, you can liquefy a cookie. \n\nkramer: alright i'll get a blender. \n\njerry: what blender? i don't have a blender. \n\nkramer: you got a blender. \n\njerry: i would know if i had a blender. \n\nelaine: where is the ambulance?! \n\njerry: (on phone) hello, yes, i called for an ambulance like thirty-five minutes ago. \n\nelaine: i can't believe what's going on out here. \n\njerry: this is an emergency, what's taking so long? (the door buzzer buzzes) wait a second, maybe that's them. (presses button) hello? \n\nvoice: paramedics. \n\njerry: come on up. okay, they're here. \n\nelaine: he seems to be breathing. \n\njerry: ya know, i gotta tell you, he's a pretty good-looking guy. \n\nelaine: i know. \n\njerry: those eyebrows could use a trimming, you ever mention that to him? \n\nelaine: almost. \n\njerry: hey, look at this, c'mon, running wild there. \n\nelaine: it's not an easy thing to bring up. \n\njerry: yeah, that's true. \n\nelaine: aw, you should see his bathrobe, man, it's all silk. \n\njerry: yeah? does he wear slippers? i bet he wears slippers. \n\nelaine: he does, how'd you know that? \n\njerry: i could tell. \n\nelaine: what happened, what took you so long?! \n\nparamedic: we got here twenty minutes ago but we couldn't move, the whole intersection is gridlocked, i've never seen anything like it. so finally we make the turn and this guy who's running around triple-parking cars slammed into us with a blue escort. \n\njerry: blue escort? that's my rent-a-car! \n\ngeorge: oh man. \n\njerry: what happened to the car? \n\ngeorge: sorry, you don't know what's going on out there! (looks at owen) who's he? \n\nelaine: this guy i'm seeing. \n\ngeorge: what happened? \n\njerry: we don't know! \n\nparamedic: who put cookies in his mouth? \n\njerry and elaine: cookies? \n\nparamedic: you're not supposed to do that. \n\njerry: so how'd you hit the car? \n\ngeorge: i was moving it across the street, i looked up and i saw woody allen and i got all distracted. \n\njerry: it's not even my car, it's a rental. \n\nkramer: what are you doing out there?! you're holding up the production of the movie! we can't shoot and woody, he's really mad at you. \n\ngeorge: woody mentioned me? what did he say? \n\nkramer: he said, 'who's the moron in the blue jacket who's got the street all screwed up?' \n\ngeorge: should i apologize to woody? \n\nkramer: alright, i'll tell you what. next time i talk to him, maybe i'll bring it up. i'll feel him out. \n\nsid: now you didn't tell me you didn't know how to drive. you should have mentioned that. \n\ngeorge: well i know how to drive. \n\nsid: then how'd all those cars get damaged? why are people calling me up screaming on the phone? most of them cancelled out on me. \n\njerry: can i get anybody anything? \n\nsid: moving cars from one side of the street to the other don't take no more sense than putting on a pair of pants. my question to you is who's putting your pants on? \n\ngeorge: i put my pants on, sid. \n\nsid: i don't believe you. if you can put your pants on, you can move those cars. \n\ngeorge: well i don't want to get into a big dispute about the pants. \n\nsid: who's gonna send money to my sister in virginia? her little boy needs surgery on his foot. now he'll be walking around with a limp because you can't park a few cars. \n\ngeorge: maybe i could call my father. \n\nkramer: hey, you seen the paper yet? \n\njerry: interestingly enough, no, inasmuch as it is my paper. \n\nkramer: yeah. there's an article in there about that writer. \n\njerry: (reading) owen march, prominent author and essayist suffered a stroke yesterday in the upper west side apartment of a friend. \n\nkramer: uh huh, that's the guy that was here. you're the friend. \n\njerry: (continuing) the extent of the damage would have been far less severe had paramedics been able to reach him sooner. \n\nsid: oh lord. \n\njerry: (finishing) the commotion also delayed production of a woody allen movie that was shooting up the block. a spokeswoman for the legendary filmmaker said that mr. allen was extremely agitated and wondered if his days of shooting movies in new york were over. \n\nelaine: five seconds. jerry, i was five seconds away from breaking up with him. five seconds. the next words out of my mouth were, 'owen, it's over.' \n\njerry: can he communicate? \n\nelaine: yeah, well, he nods. and i think he understands me, he seems to enjoy it when i read to him. \n\njerry: alright, she's free. (steps up to the counter) hi, i called before, uh, my car got smashed. \n\nelaine: so listen, what should i do? i mean if i break up with him now it'll look like i'm abandoning him because of his condition, i'll be ostracized from the community. \n\njerry: what community? there's a community? \n\nelaine: of course there's a community. \n\njerry: all these years i'm living in a community, i had no idea. \n\nrental car agent: sir the estimate on the damage to your car is two thousand eight hundred and sixty-six dollars. \n\njerry: hmm, well, i got the insurance and everything so... \n\nrental car agent: yes, now, uh, in your report you said that you were not the driver of the car at the time of the accident. \n\njerry: that is right, somebody else was driving. \n\nrental car agent: alright, well, sir, you're only covered for when you're driving the car. \n\njerry: uh huh, what's that? \n\nrental car agent: you're not covered for other drivers. \n\njerry: other drivers? \n\nrental car agent: um hm. \n\njerry: your whole business is based on other drivers. it's a rented car. that's who's driving it, other drivers. doesn't my credit card cover me or something? \n\nrental car agent: not that particular one. \n\njerry: well i got a hundred cards, here, pick a card, take a card, any card you want, go ahead, whichever one, i don't care. \n\nrental car agent: sir, if you had read the rental agreement-- \n\njerry: did you see the size of that document? it's like the declaration of independence, who's gonna read that? \n\nrental car agent: mr. seinfeld, as it stands right now, you are not covered for that damage and there is absolutely nothing that can be done about that. \n\njerry: these pretzels are making me thirsty. \n\nelaine: ahh, it's good, isn't it? yankee bean. why yankee bean, huh? don't they have beans in the south? i mean if you order yankee bean in the south, are they offended? huh? (singing) yankee bean, yankee bean, i like my yankee bean. (she puts the bowl down and wipes owen's mouth with a napkin) owen, i think we have to talk. i mean, uh, *i* have to talk. it would be nice if *we* could, but, uh, whatever. um, don't get me wrong, i like coming here, and uh, feeding you and cleaning a little, and paying your bills, that's good stuff. good stuff! i have a wonderful time when i'm with you, wonderful! but at this point in my life, i'm not really sure that i'm ready to make a commitment to one person. i'm just not really sure that we have enough in common. for example, i like running in the park, bicycling, roller skating, tennis and skiing, and um, well, i'm gonna be brutally honest with you now, owen, it's a bitch to get here. it's two subways. i have to transfer at forty-second street to take the double-r. anyway, i mean, this doesn't mean we can't be friends. these pretzels are making me thirsty. \n\nelaine: can you die from an odor? i mean, like if you were locked in a vomitorium for two weeks, could you actually die from the odor? \n\njerry: an overdose of odor? good question. \n\ngeorge: do i smell? \n\nelaine: no no no no, i was just down on the forty-second street subway today, it is disgusting. guess who i bumped into. owen. \n\njerry: ahh. \n\ngeorge: he's alright? \n\nelaine: yeah, he's almost fully recovered. he told me he was just using me for sex. \n\njerry: let me get that. \n\ngeorge: no no no, i got it. \n\njerry: please. \n\ngeorge: no come on, let me, let me. i smashed your car, it cost you over two thousand dollars, \n\njerry: (sarcastically) yeah, a cup of coffee should cover it. \n\njerry: what are you doing here? \n\nkramer: i got fired from the movie. \n\ngeorge: get out of here, why? \n\nkramer: well, you know they were gonna shoot it today, and uh, we rehearsed it twice, then woody yells 'action!' and i turn to him and i say, 'these pretzels are making me thirsty' and i took a swig of beer, ya know, and i slammed the glass down on the bar and it shattered. \n\nelaine: aww. \n\nkramer: well, one of the pieces must have hit woody. he started crying. and he yells out, 'i'm bleeding' and he runs off. anyway, this woman, she came up to me and she says, 'you're fired.' boy i really nailed that scene. \n\njerry: aw, wait a--. oh. oh, for crying out loud. \n\njerry: i'm sorry it's gotta be a little bit of a scary place to work. i don't know how you feel about it. you want to be standing there having people comming in all day going \"i need knives. i need more knives. do you have any bigger knives? i'd like a bigger knife, a big, long, sharp knife, that's what i'm in the market for. i like them really sharp. do you have one with hooks and gouges like blades and kind of serrated? that's the kind of knife i'm looking for. i need one i can throw. i need another one i can just hack away with. do you have anything like that? \n\njerry: oh yeah, like you know what you're talking about. \n\ngeorge: like you do. \n\njerry: well what do you think? they put the statue on a giant raft and a tugboat pulled it all the way from france? \n\ngeorge: what do you think? the brought it over in pieces and screwed it together like a coffee table? \n\njerry: i don't know. it's too early for a christmas party isn't it? \n\ngeorge: why did france give that to us anyway? \n\njerry: it was a gift. \n\ngeorge: so countries just exchange gifts like that? \n\njerry: if they like each other. \n\ngeorge: there's elaine. \n\njerry: see that guy he's talking with? that's her new boyfriend. \n\ngeorge: really? they work here in the office? \n\njerry: yeah. they're having a little fling so don't say anything. \n\ngeorge: who am i going to tell? my mother? like i've got nothing better to talk about. \n\njerry: you don't. he's a recovering alcoholic. \n\ngeorge: really? \n\njerry: yeah. he's been off the wagon for two years. \n\ngeorge: \"off the wagon\"? \n\njerry: i think it's off the wagon. \n\ngeorge: i think it's \"on the wagon\". \n\nelaine: jerry, george, what are you doing here? \n\njerry: what am i doing here? ba-boom (holding out a present) \n\nelaine: *gasp* my god! my watch! you found my watch! (pushing jerry) \n\njerry: hey keep your hands to yourself if you know what's good for you. \n\nelaine: where did you find it? \n\njerry: under the sofa cushion. \n\nelaine: and you stopped by just to give it to me? \n\njerry: it's your christmas present. \n\nelaine: i though i'd never find it. \n\ngeorge: well today's your lucky day. \n\nelaine: no. today's *your* lucky day. \n\ngeorge: it will be my first one. \n\nelaine: you want to work here? \n\ngeorge: huh? \n\nelaine: yeah one of the readers left and there's a job opening. dick, this is jerry and this is george. \n\ndick: hi nice to meet you. is this the guy? \n\njerry: \"the guy?\" \n\nelaine: (softly to dick) dick. \n\ngeorge: how can you just get it? \n\nelaine: my boss told me to find someone. i'm in charge of it. all you have to do is meet him. come on. come on, come on, here hold my drink. \n\njerry: cranberry juice? \n\nelaine: and vodka. \n\ndick: i got the cranberry juice. \n\ndick: so... you're jerry. \n\njerry: so... i'm jerry. (he puts down the drink) \n\nmr. lippman: (what is his name?) so have you ever done this kind of work before? \n\ngeorge: well, you know, book reports. that kind of stuff. \n\nmr. lippman: how do you read? \n\ngeorge: i like mike lubika. \n\nmr. lippman: mike lubika? \n\ngeorge: he's a sports writer for the daily news. i find him very insightful... \n\nmr. lippman: no, no, no. i mean authors. \n\ngeorge: lot of good ones. i don't even want to mention anyone because i'm afraid i'm going to leave somebody out. \n\nmr. lippman: name a couple. \n\ngeorge: who do i like? i, like, uh, art, vandelay. \n\nmr. lippman: art vandelay? \n\ngeorge: he's an obscure writer. betnik, on the village. \n\nmr. lippman: what has he written? \n\ngeorge: venetian blinds. \n\ndick: (picking up the drink) i've got new for you. i'm funnier than you are. \n\njerry: why don't get we together new years day and watch some football. \n\nelaine: where's my drink? \n\njerry: there. (turns to george) so, how did it go? \n\ngeorge: i think he was impressed. \n\nelaine: no, no, no, this is just cranberry juice. \n\njerry: oh, uh, i think maybe dick picked up yours. \n\nelaine: dick? he can't drink. he's an alcoholic. i told you to hold it. \n\njerry: i didn't know you meant *hold* it, i thought you meant hold it. \n\nelaine: one drink like that and he could fall right off the wagon. \n\ngeorge: told you. \n\njerry: i never feel comfortable in the women's department. i feel like i'm just a *little* too close to trying on a dress. \n\ngeorge: do i really have to buy her something? \n\njerry: hey the woman got you a job. the least you could do is buy her a gift. how about this? \n\ngeorge: what is that? is that cashmere? \n\njerry: yeah. she would love cashmere. \n\ngeorge: who doesn't like cashmere? find me one person in the world that doesn't like cashmere. it's too expensive. \n\njerry: look at this. it's 85 dollars marked down from 600. \n\ngeorge: wow. excuse me, miss? \n\nsales woman: yes? \n\ngeorge: how come this sweater is only 85 dollars? \n\nsales woman: (showing the dot) oh, here. this is why. \n\ngeorge: what? i don't see anything. \n\nsales woman: see this red dot? \n\ngeorge: oh yeah. \n\njerry: oh it's damaged. (grabbing the sweater) \n\ngeorge: (grabbing the sweater back) well it's not really damaged. 85 dollars huh? \n\nsales woman: there's no exchanges on this. \n\ngeorge: you think she would care about the red dot? \n\njerry: it's hard to say. \n\ngeorge: i don't even think she'd notice it. can you see it? \n\njerry: well i can see it. \n\ngeorge: yeah, but you know where it is. \n\njerry: well what do you want me to do? not look at it? \n\ngeorge: pretend you didn't know it was there. can you see it? \n\njerry: it's hard to pretend because i know where it is. \n\ngeorge: well just take an overview. can't you just take an overview? \n\njerry: you want me to take an overview? \n\ngeorge: please. \n\njerry: i see a very cheap man holding a sweater trying to get away with something. that's my overview. \n\njerry: yeah so? \n\nelaine: he's acting very strangely. i think he started drinking again. \n\njerry: oh boy, can you smell it? \n\nelaine: no. i can't smell it. \n\njerry: well if you can't smell it then he hasn't been drinking. \n\nelaine: you don't always smell someone from a drink. \n\njerry: yes you do. \n\nelaine: what about one drink? would you smell it from one drink? \n\njerry: yes you would. \n\njerry: i'll prove it. would you do me a favor? \n\nkramer: okay. \n\njerry: would you take a drink and let us smell you? \n\nkramer: you can smell me without the drink. \n\nelaine: i suspect that this guy i'm seeing might be drinking but i can't smell it. \n\nkramer: okay, well what am i drinking? what do you got? \n\njerry: i got a bottle of scotch my uncle gave me. it's hennigans. it's been here for two years. i've been using it as a paint thinner. \n\nkramer: all right. \n\njerry: i don't smell anything. \n\nelaine: maybe we're too close to the bottle. \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: (over the speaker) it's george. \n\njerry: come on up. \n\nkramer: that is *damn* good scotch. i could do a commercial for this stuff. mmmmm, boy that hennigans goes down smooth. and afterwords you don't even smell. that's right folks. i just had three shots of hennigans and i don't smell. imagine, you can walk around drunk all day. that's hennigans, the no-smell, no-tell scotch. \n\ngeorge: hello everybody. \n\nkramer: hey. (snuggling really close to george) i'm going to tell you what i think. i know you don't care what i think, but i'm going to tell you. i think that you are terrific. \n\ngeorge: (uncomfortablly) thank you. \n\nelaine: hey what's that? \n\ngeorge: it's an early christmas present. \n\nelaine: christmas present? for who? \n\ngeorge: for you. \n\nelaine: *gasp* (pushing george) get out of here. \n\nkramer: say you got a big job interview, and you're a little nervous. well throw back a couple shots of hennigans and you'll be as loose as a goose and ready to roll in no time. and because it's odorless, why, it will be our little secret. (singing) h-e-double n... \n\njerry: kramer. yeah that'll do. \n\nelaine: (opening the present) oh george, this is beautiful. is this cashmere? \n\ngeorge: of course it's cashmere. \n\nelaine: oh, i love cashmere. \n\ngeorge: well who doesn't. \n\nelaine: my, george this must have cost a fortune. \n\ngeorge: ahh, money. \n\nelaine: jerry, how could you let him spend so much money? \n\njerry: i tried to stop him. i couldn't. he just wants to make people happy. \n\nelaine: george, this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever given me. \n\ngeorge: well good, good. take it off you're going to wear it out already. it's for special occasions this thing. \n\nkramer: what's that red dot on your sweater? \n\nelaine: what? \n\ngeorge: just take it off. i'm getting hot just looking at it. \n\nelaine: uhh. this. it's like a red dot. \n\ngeorge: what red dot? what are you talking about? jerry come here for a second. do you see anything here? \n\njerry: (uncomfortable) uh, i don't know. uh, i don't know. \n\nelaine: what don't you know? \n\njerry: i don't know. \n\nelaine: well do you see it or don't you? \n\njerry: ahem. say that again? \n\nelaine: do you see it or don't you? \n\njerry: do i see it... or don't i? that's the question. \n\njerry: now what did you ask me again. \n\nelaine: you're still here. you're a dynamo. \n\ngeorge: i can't believe i get paid for this. \n\nelaine: i'll see you tomorrow. \n\ngeorge: how you doing? \n\ncleaning woman: hello. \n\njerry: you had sex with the cleaning woman on your desk? who are you, how did you do that? \n\ngeorge: hennigans. i was there sitting in the office and the cleaning woman comes in. i've always been attracted to cleaning women. cleaning women, chambermaids. \n\njerry: yeah chambermaids, i'm attracted to them too. \n\ngeorge: why is that? \n\njerry: it's a woman in your room. so go ahead. \n\ngeorge: so she starts vaccuming, back and forth, back and forth, her hips swivelling, her breasts, uh... (trying to think of a word) \n\njerry: convulsing? \n\ngeorge: convulsing? \n\njerry: i don't know, i'm trying to help you. \n\ngeorge: then i asked her if she wanted a drink. \n\njerry: you don't drink. \n\ngeorge: i know but i couldn't think of anything else to say to her. \n\njerry: so you started drinking. \n\ngeorge: so we started drinking, and i'll tell you i don't know if it was the alcohol or the ammonia, but the next think i knew she was mopping the floor with me. \n\njerry: so how was it? \n\ngeorge: well the sex was okay, but i threw up from the hennigans. \n\njerry: good thing the cleaning lady was there. \n\nelaine: dick was fired. \n\njerry: you mean to tell me if i had put that drink six inches over to the right, and none of this would have happened. \n\nelaine: you knew he was an alcoholic. why'd you put the drink down at all? \n\njerry: what are you saying? \n\nelaine: i'm not saying anything. \n\njerry: you're saying something. \n\nelaine: what could i be saying? \n\njerry: well you're not saying nothing you must be saying something. \n\nelaine: if i was saying something i would have said it. \n\njerry: well why don't you say it? \n\nelaine: i said it. \n\njerry: what did you say? \n\nelaine: nothing. it's exhausting being with you. \n\njerry: yeah? \n\ngeorge: (over the speaker) it's george. \n\njerry: come on up. \n\nelaine: hey, let me ask you something something. did george buy that sweater knowing the red dot was on it because it was cheaper? (jerry is unconfortable) ooookay, you just gave me the answer. \n\njerry: no i didn't. \n\nelaine: yes you did, yes you did. i saw your expression. \n\njerry: i didn't have an expression. i have a deviated septum. i have to open my mouth sometimes to breathe. \n\nelaine: how much did he save? \n\njerry: frankly i am shocked that you would ask such a question (elaine sticking out her tongue like she isn't buying a word of it) of me, that you would think - the only surprise is how you could even think of that. that's what you were seeing. \n\ngeorge: i have to talk to elaine. this cleaing lady is turning the screws on me. she's pushing for this whole relationship thing. she keeps calling me, threatening to go to the boss with this thing, i could lose my job, i gotta do something to keep her quiet. \n\njerry: elaine is in the bathroom. she's wise to whole red dot thing. she's asking me all kinds of questions. \n\ngeorge: did you tell her anything? \n\njerry: no. \n\ngeorge: do you swear? \n\njerry: i'm not swearing. i don't want to swear. \n\ngeorge: oh you told her didn't you. \n\njerry: no. \n\nelaine: hey george, did you buy that sweater knowing that red dot was on it because you could get it at a discount? \n\ngeorge: what? did i what? \n\nelaine: you did didn't you. \n\ngeorge: elaine, i'm, i'm shocked. i'm shocked. here i go out in the spirit of the season (elaine looking like she's not buying a word of it) and spend all my savings to buy you the most beautiful christmas sweater i have ever seen to show my appreciation to you at christmas and this is the thanks that i get at christmas. \n\nelaine: well jerry told me that you did. \n\ngeorge: you told her? how could you tell her? i told you not to say anything. \n\njerry: i didn't tell her you stupid idiot. she tricked you. \n\ngeorge: elaine you don't understand. i had 103 temperature when i bought that sweater. i was so dizzy i was seeing red dots everywhere. i thought everything in the store had a red dot on it. i couldn't distinguish one red dot from another. i couldn't afford anything. i have nothing. i haven't worked for a really long time. (jerry is standing right behind george. jerry takes out a hankerchief and starts fake-crying in it.) i mean look, i have no clothes, look at what i'm wearing. it's just a little red dot. \n\ngeorge: this is for you. \n\ncleaning woman: oh, georgie, you bought this for me? oh i knew you cared for me. \n\ngeorge: as you care for me. which is why it is very important that you never breathe a word of this to anyone about the... you know. what, with clarence thomas and everything. \n\ncleaning woman: okay, okay, can i open it now? \n\ngeorge: yes of course go ahead. my guess is you're going to like this very much. \n\ncleaning woman: oh! is that cashmere? \n\ngeorge: of course it's cashemere. \n\ncleaning woman: a cashmere sweater. oh georgie porgie! \n\ngeorge: just a little something for christmas. \n\ncleaning woman: when i was a little girl in panama, a rich american came to our town and he was wearing the softest most beautiful sweater. i said to him, \"what do you call this most beautiful fabric?\", and he said \"they call it cashmere\". i repeated the words \"cashmere, cashmere\". i asked if i could have it, and he said \"no. get away from me.\" then he started walk away. but i grabbed onto his leg screaming for him to give me the sweater and he dragged me through the street. and then he kicked at me with the other foot and threw some change at me. oh, but i didn't want the change georgie. i wanted the cashmere. \n\ngeorge: i had a feeling you would like it. no, don't try it on now, try it on later. \n\ncleaning woman: wow, look at this. it feels so beautiful. \n\ngeorge: take it off. you're going to ruin it. \n\ncleaning woman: (noticing the dot) what's this? \n\njerry: i was in the men's room the other day and they had the hand blower, instead of the paper towels, you know this thing. i like the hand blower i have to say. it takes a little bit longer, but i feel when you're in a room with a revolting stench you want to spend as much time as you can. \n\ndick: the only stench is comming from you. \n\naudience: oooooh. \n\njerry: oh, wait a second, i believe we have a heckler ladies and gentlemen. hey dick i don't know what your problem is. it's not my fault you're back on the wagon. \n\ndick: it's off the wagon. \n\njerry: in the old days how do you think they got the alcohol from town to town? \n\ndick: i don't know. \n\njerry: on the wagon. don't you think they broke into a couple of those bottles along the way? \n\ndick: you can't drink on a wagon it would be too bumpy. \n\njerry: they had smooth trails. what about the cumberland gap? \n\ndick: what the hell do you know about wagons? \n\njerry: i know enough not to get on them. \n\nmr. lippman: i'm going to get right to the point. it has come to my attention that you and the cleaning woman have engaged in sexual intercourse on the desk in your office. is that correct? \n\ngeorge: who said that? \n\nmr. lippman: she did. \n\ngeorge: was that wrong? should i have not done that? i tell you i gotta plead ignorance on this thing because if anyone had said anything to me at all when i first started here that that sort of thing was frouned upon, you know, cause i've worked in a lot of offices and i tell you peope do that all the time. \n\nmr. lippman: you're fired. \n\ngeorge: well you didn't have to say it like that. \n\nmr. lippman: i want you out of here by the end of the day. \n\ngeorge: what about the whole christmas spirit thing? any flexability there? \n\nmr. lippman: nah. wait, wait, she wanted me to give you this. \n\nelaine: you had sex on your desk with the cleaning woman. \n\ngeorge: you never had sex in the office before? \n\nelaine: no. i once made out with someone but that was it. \n\ngeorge: alright so you made out with someone. \n\nelaine: well that's not sex. \n\ngeorge: kissing is sex. \n\nelaine: kissing is not sex. \n\njerry: george? \n\ngeorge: jerry. \n\nelaine: hey, did jerry leave that drink next to dick's on purpose? \n\ngeorge: no. \n\njerry: george? \n\ngeorge: over here. \n\nelaine: what are you doing here? \n\njerry: i'm taking the kid out to dinner to chear him up. \n\nelaine: hey jerry when do you consider that sex has taken place? \n\njerry: i would say when the nipple makes its first appearance. \n\nelaine: so, george told me that you left the drink next to dick's on purpose. \n\njerry: nice try. so guess who heckled me at the club last night. \n\ndick: merry christmas. \n\nelaine: oh my god that's dick. it's cape fear. \n\ngeorge: hide, hide under the desk. \n\nelaine: ow, ow move over. \n\njerry: get off of me. \n\nelaine: i've got no room. \n\ndick: is that cashmere? \n\ngeorge: of course it's cashmere. \n\ndick: (noticing the dot) what's this? \n\njerry: but in a way, i think i inadvertantly turned this guy into an alcoholic. i hate being around alcoholics because they're either telling you how much they love you or how much they hate you. and those are the two statements that scare me the most. but i think he's okay now because i have no idea how he feels about me. he's finally off the wagon. \n\ndick: you mean on the wagon. \n\njerry: don't get smart. \n\nkramer: all right, coney island. ok, you can take the b or the f and switch for the n at broadway lafayette, or you can go over the bridge to dekalb and catch the q to atlantic avenue, then switch to the irt 2, 3, 4 or 5, but don't get on the g. see that's very tempting, but you wind up on smith and 9th street, then you got to get on the r. \n\nelaine: couldn't he just take the d straight to coney island? \n\nkramer: well, yeah... \n\nelaine: ok, what time is your job interview george? \n\ngeorge: 945 \n\njerry: remember, don't whistle on the elevator. \n\ngeorge: why not? \n\njerry: that's what willie loman told biff before his interview, in 'death of a salesman'. \n\ngeorge: what, you are comparing me to biff loman, very encouraging. the biggest loser in history of american literature. \n\nelaine: all right, i'm gonna go. \n\njerry: what time is the lesbian wedding? \n\nelaine: 930 \n\ngeorge: lesbian wedding. how do they work bride and groom out, what do they flip a coin? \n\nelaine: yeah, they flip a coin. \n\ngeorge: what, was that not politically correct? it's a legitimate question. \n\njerry: i'm so tired. i'll fall asleep on that train (yawns) \n\ngeorge: i get the feeling when lesbians are looking at me, they're thinking \"that's why i'm not heterosexual\". \n\nkramer: jerry, come on let's go, pick up the check so we can go. \n\njerry: oh, i'm paying for breakfast? \n\nkramer: yeah. \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\ngeorge: yeah. \n\njerry: why do i always pay? what am i made of money? you bunch of deadbeats. \n\ngeorge: how many tickets are you paying today? \n\nkramer: well, let's see speeding, running a red light, no license, no registration, no plates, no brake lights, no rear view mirror...yeah. (gives george a ticket) \n\ngeorge: no doors? \n\nkramer: i'm fighting that one. you know, this is gonna cost me over six hundred bucks. \n\ngeorge: i can't carry any changes in these pants, it falls out. \n\nviolin player: thank you. \n\ngeorge: that guy is not blind. \n\njerry: so, can i convince anybody to come down to coney island with me? i got to pick up my car at the pound. george? \n\ngeorge: i can't believe they actually found your stolen car. \n\njerry: not only that they found it. it was simonized and the front end was aligned. \n\ngeorge: that's amazing. \n\njerry: so what do you say? run in the cyclone. hotdogs on nathan's is on me. \n\ngeorge: what are you? satan? i'm close to a job here. it's my second interview with them. \n\njerry: all right, biff. elaine, merry-go-round? \n\nelaine: i can't. i'm the best man. \n\njerry: kramer, bumper-cars? \n\nkramer: i've gotta go to court, i'll get in trouble. what's the matter with you? \n\njerry: could be years before i get back to coney island. i can't go to rides alone. \n\nsubway announcement: 42th street. change to d,n,rr,2,3,4,5,7,c,e,f train. \n\nelaine: see'ya. \n\nwoman: you looking for a job? \n\ngeorge: me, why? \n\nwoman: well, you're reading the classifieds. \n\ngeorge: oh, no no no. i was just looking for stock-pages. here it is. looking for the quotes. gotta check to quotes. love a good quote. oh, ibm up a quarter. \n\nwoman: you didn't look like someone who needed a job. \n\ngeorge: me? no, no, i don't, i don't. doing very well, very well, yep. \n\nwoman: so, you're in 'the market'? \n\ngeorge: yeah i'm, eh, in 'the market'. \n\nwoman: which market? \n\ngeorge: which market, the, eh, big one, the big market, the big board. bull market, bear market, you name the market, i'm there. \n\nwoman: so, do you work for one of those big broker-houses? \n\ngeorge: they wish. i hate the big broker-houses. hate them with a passion. big broker-houses killed my father. \n\nwoman: really? \n\ngeorge: well, they hurt him bad. really hurt his feelings. it's a long story. i- i don't like to talk about it, but i swore then that i would never work for big broker-houses. see, all they care about is money. i'm about more than money, i'm about people, always gone my own way and i've never looked back. \n\nwoman: i started riding these trains in the forties. those days a man would give up their seat for a woman. now we're liberated and we have to stand. \n\nelaine: it's ironic. \n\nwomen: what's ironic? \n\nelaine: this, that we've come all this way, we have made all this progress, but you know we've lost the little things, the niceties. \n\nwoman: no, i mean what does 'ironic' mean? \n\nelaine: oh... \n\nwoman: where are you up to, with such a nice present, birthday party? \n\nelaine: a wedding. \n\nwomen: a wedding? \n\nelaine: yeah \n\nwoman: hah, i didn't know people still get married. it's hard today with men and women. \n\nelaine: you're telling me. \n\nwoman: so, are they a nice couple? \n\nelaine: oh, very nice. \n\nwoman: what does he do, if you don't mind me asking? \n\nelaine: she. \n\nwomen: she? she works, he doesn't. he sounds like my son. \n\nelaine: there is no he. \n\nwomen: there is no he. so, who's getting married? \n\nelaine: em, two women. it's, eh...lesbian wedding. \n\nwomen: lesbian wedding. \n\nelaine: aha, yep. i'm the...eh...bes tman. \n\nwomen (talks to man next to her): my luck. i don't talk to a soul in the subway for 35 years. i get a best man at a lesbian wedding. (leaves) \n\nelaine: no, no, no, you don't understand! i'm not a lesbian! i hate men, but i'm not a lesbian! \n\nelaine's voice: i'm really looking forward to this. i love weddings. maybe i'll meet somebody, umm maybe not. \n\nelaine's voice: oh, man. we're stopping? \n\nwoman: well, this is where i get off. \n\ngeorge: oh, you do? \n\nwoman: eh, hey why don't you...oh nothing. \n\ngeorge: no, no, what, what? \n\nwoman: well, i was going to say why don't you get off with me, but you're obviously very busy on your way to some important meeting or something. \n\ngeorge: yeah, well.... \n\nwoman: yeah i knew it was a bad idea. \n\ngeorge: hey, what's another million, give or take. i get off where and when i wanna get off. \n\ngeorge: i'm stuck. pull a little, just a second. don't start the train! don't start the train!! \n\nman1: this, it's the fourth horse of the first race, pappanick. \n\nman2: how do you know it's going to win? \n\nman1: my ups-guy tells. guys who own the horses are regular customers. every horse he has ever given me has won. see, they've been sandbagging and looking for a good spot. he's been getting it light cause they've been using bug boy and the workout hasn't been published. now they are ready to run with it. they are gonna break his maiden. it's going to go to great price, maybe 301. i'm telling you, it's a lock. \n\nman2: but it rained last night. \n\nman1: exactly, this horse loves the slop. it's in his bloodlines. his father was a mudda', his mother was a mudda'. \n\nman2: his mudda' was a mudda'? \n\nman1: what did i just say? come on, let's go to the office, i'm going to call my bookie. (looks around to see if anyone is listening) hey, don't tell anybody. \n\njerry: o-k. you realize of course, you're naked? \n\nnaked man: naked, dressed. i don't see any difference. \n\njerry: you oughta' sit here. there is a difference. \n\nnaked man: you got something against naked body? \n\njerry: i got something against yours. how about a couple of deep knee bends, maybe a squat thrust? \n\nnaked man: who's got time for squat thrusts? \n\njerry: all right, how about skipping breakfast. i'm guessing you're not a 'half-grapefruit and black coffee' guy. \n\nnaked man: i like a good breakfast. \n\njerry: i understand, i like good breakfast. long as you don't wind up trapped in a room with bib overalls and pigtails, been counseled by dick gregory. \n\nnaked man: i'm not ashamed of my body. \n\njerry: that's your problem, you should be. \n\njerry: don't get up, please, allow me. \n\nelaine's voice: oh, this is great. this is what i need, just what i need. ok, take it easy i'm sure it's nothing. probably rats on the track, we're stopping for rats. god, it's so crowded. how can there be so many people? this guy really smells, doesn't anyone use deodorant in the city? what is so hard, you take the cap off, you roll it on. what's that? i feel something rubbing against me. disgusting animals, these people should be in a gage. we are in a gage. what if i miss the wedding? i got the ring. what'll they do? you can't get married without the ring. oh, i can't breath, i feel faint. take it easy, it'll start moving soon. think about the people on the concentration camps, what they went through. and hostages, what would you do if you were a hostage? think about that. this is nothing. no, it's not nothing, it's something. it's a nightmare! help me! move it! com'on move this fu(beep) thing!! why isn't it moving?!? what can go wrong with a train!?! it's on tracks, there's no traffic! how can a train get stuck. step on the gas!! what could it be? you'de think the conductor would explain it to us? 'i'm sorry there's a delay we'll be moving in 5 minutes'!! i wanna hear a voice. what's that on my leg?!! \n\ngeorge: are you often on business trip? nice...oh, hey nice ice-bucket. \n\nwoman: make your-self comfortable. \n\ngeorge's voice: make myself comfortable. what does that mean? does she want me to take my clothes off? is she taking her clothes off? what if i take my clothes off and she still has hers' on? then i really look like an idiot. she could get offended and leave. so maybe i should leave them on, but what then if she takes her off? then she'll feel humiliated. 'make yourself comfortable'. i got this unbelievable woman and this 'comfortable'-thing can ruin me. i got it! i take my shoes off and sit on the bed. there, that's comfortable. she can't accuse me being unconvertible. \n\ngeorge: gotta tell you i'm pretty comfortable. \n\nkramer: oh yeah, it's all set. they got the bug boy on him. \n\nguy: the bug boy. \n\nkramer: yeah, the little father has run his hard out. they're gonna break his maiden. \n\nguy: really? but, it's a little bit slow out there it rained last night. \n\nkramer: oh, this baby loves the slob, loves it, eats it up. eats the slob. born in the slob. his father was a mudda'. \n\nguy: his father was a mudda'? \n\nkramer: his mudda' was a mudda'. \n\nguy: his mudda' was a mudda'? \n\nkramer: what did i just say? \n\nkramer: hey, all right, 600 pappanick to win. \n\nnaked man: they still have no pitching. goodin's a question mahk. ...you don't recover from those rotator cuffs so fast. \n\njerry: i'm not worried about their best pitching. they got pitching. ...they got no hitting. \n\nnaked man: no hitting? they got hitting! bonilla, murry. ...they got no defence. \n\njerry: defence? please. ...they need speed. \n\nnaked man: speed? they got coleman. ...they need a bullpen. \n\njerry: franco's no good? ...they got no team leaders. \n\nnaked man: they got franco! ...what they need is a front office. \n\njerry: but you gotta like their chances. \n\nnaked man: i luv their chances. \n\njerry: tell you what. if they win the penant i'll sit naked with you at the world series. \n\nnaked man: it's a deal! \n\nelaine's voice: why couldn't i take a cab. for 6 dollars my whole life could've changed. what is that on my leg? i'll never get out of here. what if i'm here for the rest of my life? maybe i'll get out in 5 seconds. 1 banana, 2 banana, 3 banana, 4 banana, 5 banana...no, i'm still here! still here! why don't they start moving? move! move!! move!!! *train starts moving, lights get back on* it's moving! it's moving! yes! yes!! *train stops again and lights go off* motherf(beep-beep)!!! \n\ngeorge: eh, gee, i hope you have the key for these things. \n\nwoman: oh, don't worry. i do. \n\ngeorge: you know, my mother used to walk around on our apartment just in her bra and panties. she didn't look anything like you, she was really disgusting, really bad body. if you could imagine uglier and fatter version of shirley booth. remember shirley booth from hazel. really embarrassing, cause you know i had only mother in the whole neighborhood who was worse looking than hazel. imagine the taunts i would hear. \n\nwoman: like what? \n\ngeorge: like a \"hey your mother is uglier than hazel. hazel really puts your mother to shame\" \n\ngeorge: what's going on? \n\nwoman: it was a pleasure doing business with you george, but i'm afraid i have to get going. \n\ngeorge: get going? but we haven't really, you know.... \n\nwoman: eight dollars? eight dollars? \n\ngeorge: what are you doing? you're robbing me? \n\nwoman: i wasted my whole morning with you for eight dollars? \n\ngeorge: wait, wait a second, what are you doing? \n\nwoman: i'm taking your clothes. \n\ngeorge: no, that's my only suit. it cost me 350 dollars. i got it at moe ginsburg. \n\nwoman: bye george. \n\ngeorge: no wait, you can't just leave me here! will i see you again? \n\n(the race is on and pappanick is slowly making ground. kramer is pounding himself imitating the jockey and shouts: yes, yes, yes... the winner is pappanick) \n\nkramer: yes! yes! i won, hey (shouts to cashier) \n\nnaked man: i haven't had a hotdog at nathan's for 20 years. \n\njerry: first we ride the cyclone. \n\nnaked man: chilly out. \n\njerry: aah, french fries. \n\nthug: give me the money. give me the money! \n\nblind violin player: (puts a gun to the thug's head) freeze, police! \n\njerry: no, i never got the car. we were having such a good time, by the time i got to the police garage, it was closed. \n\nelaine: too bad. \n\njerry: you wouldn't believe what this guy put away at nathan's. look at what we won! \n\njerry: you want him? \n\nelaine: get that out of my face. \n\njerry: so, you missed the wedding. you'll catch the bris! \n\nman at the counter: (yelling) hare krishna, hare krishna! \n\ngeorge: how would you like a 'hare krishna' fist on your throat, you little punk? \n\nelaine: george? \n\njerry: biff, what did you whistle on the elevator? \n\ngeorge: you have my spare-key in your apartment, right? \n\njerry: yeah, it's in the kitchen drawer. \n\ngeorge: give me your key, i gotta get it. \n\nkramer: what happened? \n\ngeorge: never mind what happened, just give me the key. \n\njerry: come on, i'll go with you. \n\nelaine: here, pay. (gives the check to jerry) \n\nkramer: wait, wait, wait... \n\ngeorge: ...pianist. a *classical* pianist. she *plays* the piano. she's a *brilliant* woman. i-i-i sat in her living room... she played the *waldstein sonata*! the *waldstein*! \n\ngeorge: we did a crossword puzzle together, *in bed*. it was the most fun i ever had in my entire life. did you hear me? in my *life*! y'know? \n\njerry: were you talking? i couldn't hear anything. \n\ngeorge: i was telling you about noel. \n\njerry: oh, noel! yeah, the one who plays bongos... \n\ngeorge: [sarcastically] heh heh heh... so side-splittingly funny... \n\njerry: all right, i'm sorry. what about her? \n\ngeorge: what, you think i'm going to repeat the whole thing now? \n\njerry: i know, you told me you like her, everything is going good. \n\ngeorge: no everything is *not* going good. i'm very uncomfortable. i have no power. i mean, why should she have the upper hand. *once* in my life i would like the upper hand. i have no hand-- no hand at all. she has the hand; i have *no* hand... \n\ngeorge: how do i get the hand? \n\njerry: we all want the hand. hand is tough to get. you gotta get the hand right from the opening. \n\ngeorge: she's playing a recital this week at the mcbierney school. you wanna hear her play? i got two extra tickets, you and elaine could go... \n\njerry: yeah, that sounds like somethin'... \n\ngeorge: then afterwards maybe we could all go out together. y'know she'll see me with my friends, she'll observe me as i really am, as myself. maybe i can get some hand that way. \n\nkramer: hey, smell my arm... smell it! \n\ngeorge: with all due respect, i don't think so... \n\njerry: that smells good, what is that? \n\nkramer: the *beach*! \n\njerry: the *beach*? \n\ngeorge: what, did you go swimmin'? it's 29 degrees out! \n\nkramer: i just joined the polar bear club. \n\njerry: you joined the *polar bears*?! \n\ngeorge: what the hell is a \"polar bear\"? \n\nkramer: well, it's these people-- they go swimmin' in the winter. they're terrific, i just took my first swim today. brrrrrrr! it's invigorating.... \n\njerry: yeah... so's shock therapy. \n\njerry: [with glee] what is that, a pez dispenser?! \n\nkramer: want one? yeah, i just bought it at the flea market. \n\ngeorge: hey, what goes on there, exactly? \n\njerry: you don't know? \n\ngeorge: no, i-i-i know... [retreats back to his chinese take out] i know... \n\njerry: you think they have fleas there, don't you? \n\ngeorge: *no*... \n\njerry: yes you do, biff. you've never been to a flea market, and you think they have fleas there. \n\ngeorge: all right, i think they have fleas there. so what... \n\nelaine: i don't know how anyone does this. it must be *so* nerve racking... how do they warm up their fingers? \n\njerry: they have a piano backstage they warm up on. \n\nelaine: *no*, we would have heard it. \n\njerry: what, do you think they just crack their knuckles and come out? \n\ngeorge: i told her we'd all go out afterwards, okay? and don't applaud when she stops playing the first time. it's not over yet. \n\njerry: [quickly whispering] i resent that you said that! that's directed at *me*, isn't it?! \n\njerry: is this okay? can i do this? (he claps) \n\nsteve: something i said? [no response] it's john... mollika. \n\nelaine: oh, oh, *john*... oh, hi john... hi... \n\nsteve: what're you doing down here? \n\nelaine: oh, i was just at this recital and jerry put a pez dispenser on my leg and i started laughing. \n\nmollika: jerry's in there? i heard you guys broke up. \n\nelaine: we did. we're just hanging out. \n\nmollika: really. ... you really look great. \n\nelaine: oh, uh, thank you. are you still friends with richie appel? \n\nmollika: oh, richie, he's been doing comedy in l. a. for a few years. he just got back a month ago. he's kind of messed up. on drugs. i don't know what to do for the guy. \n\nelaine: have you thought about an intervention? \n\nmollika: what's that? \n\nelaine: you get all his friends in a room, they confront himm to try to get him into rehab. it's a very popular thing now. \n\nmollika: he'd never listen to anyone. ... except of course jerry. he'd listen to jerry. jerry would have to be involved. he really respects jerry. \n\nelainelaine: i'm sorry. george, i'm sorry! \n\ngeorge: what did you put the pez dispenser on her leg for in the first place? \n\njerry: i dunno, it was an impulse. \n\ngeorge: what kind of a sick impulse does that?? \n\njerry: how could i know she would start to laugh? \n\nelaine: i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i *am*! \n\njerry: can we just go in already? \n\ngeorge: what are we gonna tell her? \n\nelaine: i'll tell her i was the one who laughed. \n\ngeorge: no, don't say a word. if she thinks my friends are jerks, then i'm a *jerk*... \n\nelaine: [to jerry] oh, remind me to talk to you about something later. \n\njerry: what about? \n\ngeorge: hey, hey! we're discussing something! \n\njerry: i know, but i'm distracted now. \n\ngeorge: what are you? a *baby*!? all right. tell her. \n\nelaine: when i was outside i ran into john mollika. \n\njerry: really john mollika, they guy that used to bartend at the comedy club. how's he doing? \n\nelaine: he's good. \n\ngeorge: uh, can we cut to the chase? \n\njerry: \"cut to the chase\"? \n\ngeorge: yeah... \n\njerry: what're you, \"joe hollywood\"? \n\ngeorge: a lot of people say it. \n\njerry: i would lose that. \n\ngeorge: [accusingly] what's *that*? \n\njerry: \"lose that\"? that's not a hollywood expression! \n\ngeorge: [realizing full well it isn't] ...yes it is. \n\nelaine: anyway ... so john told me that richie is in town from los angeles and he's really messed up on drugs. so i told him that he should do an intervention. \n\njerry: really, an intervention ... \n\ngeorge: y'know people, we got a situation over here! \n\nelaine: yeah, but he want's you to be a part of it. \n\njerry: me? why me? \n\nelaine: 'cause richie really respects you and he would listen to you. \n\njerry: y'know these things are *really* hard to load... \n\ngeorge: all right, ok, i'm goin' in. \n\njerry: we've got to talk about this (to elaine) \n\nelaine: all right. \n\ngeorge: hi, hi, hi, you were wonderful. \n\nnoel: no.. \n\ngeorge: oh, these are my friends, elaine and jerry, ... noel \n\njerry: you play a *hell* of a piano. \n\nelaine: yeah, i was really moved, *really* moved. \n\nnoel: well didn't you hear that person laughing? i couldn't play. i was *humiliated... \n\nelaine: well, i'm sure it wasn't *at* you. \n\nnoel: well then, what was she laughing at? \n\njerry: pez? \n\nnoel: uh, no, no thank you. did you see her? \n\ngeorge: me, uh, uh, no, ... \n\njerry: anyone who would laugh at a recital is probably some sort of lunatic anyway. i mean only a sick twisted mind could be that rude and ignorant. \n\nelaine: maybe some mental defective put something stupid on her leg. \n\njerry: even if this so called mental defective did put something on her leg she's still the one who laughed. \n\nnoel: i'll never forget that laugh for the rest of my life. [exits] \n\nelaine: i'm sure she would apologize if she could. probably somebody is holding her back against every fibre in her being. \n\ngeorge: if she want's to continue to have a fibre of her being she'll be very careful (hitting each other) \n\ngeorge: all right, so are you ready, so we'll go out and get something to eat. \n\nnoel: i don't feel like it tonight. \n\njerry: we'll be outside \n\nelaine: yeah \n\njerry: it was nice meeting you by the way, how do you warm up your fingers before you play? \n\nnoel: i just crack my knuckles. \n\ngeorge: we'll have a good time \n\nnoel: i don't feel like it \n\ngeorge: ah, come on \n\nnoel: i said i don't feel like it! \n\ngeorge: um, all right, um, uh, i'll call 'ya. i'll call you and we'll talk on the phone. a telephone communiqu. every thing is fine ok, uh, fine, .. [exits] \n\njerry: you know i thing kramer might have been responsible for getting richie involved with drugs in the first place. \n\nelaine: what? how? \n\njerry: a few years ago the comedy club had a softball team. kramer was our first baseman you couldn't get anything by him it was unbelievable. anyway this one game we came back to win from like 8 runs behind. so kramer says to richie why don't you dump the bucket of gatorade on marty benson's head? the club owner. so richie goes ahead and does it. \n\nelaine: so? what happened? \n\njerry: what happened? the guy was like 67 years old, it was freezing out, he caught a cold, got pneumonia, and a month later he was dead. \n\nelaine: shut up! \n\njerry: all the comedians were happy. he was one of these club owners nobodu liked anyway. but richie was never the same. \n\nelaine: whar about kramer? \n\njerry: he's the same! \n\njerry: are you sure you want me john. i have spoken to richie in two years. i don't have a good apartment for an intervention. the furniture, it's very non-confrontational. all right all right. goodbye. [to kramer] remember ricie appel? \n\nkramer: (looks shocked) oh sure, the guy i told to pour the gatorade that killed marty benson? \n\njerry: right, we'll john mollika is organizing some kind of intervention for him. we're having it here. \n\nkramer: can i get in on that? \n\njerry: what do you think? it's like a poker game? \n\nkramer: is elaine going? \n\njerry: yeah \n\nkramer: well, i knew him as well as she did. \n\njerry: yeah, but john invited her. \n\nkramer: so what are you saying, you don't want me to intervene? \n\njerry: no, intervene, go intervene all you want. i am just afraid you might be interfering while we're intervening. \n\ngeorge: it's george \n\njerry: stop smelling your arm. \n\nkramer: you know i got a great idea for a cologne. the beach. you spray it on and you smell like you just came home from the beach \n\njerry: hum, a cologne that smells like the beach. i can't believe i'm saying this, \"that's not a bad idea.\" \n\nkramer: tell me about it! \n\njerry: why don't you call steve d'jiff, he works in the marketing department at calvin klein. in fact he's a good friend of john mollika and richie also. \n\ngeorge: well it's over. it's definitely over. \n\njerry: she broke up with you? \n\ngeorge: no, but i can tell she's going to. i can sense it. we had this terrible phone conversation. i was so nervous before i called i made up this whole list of things to talk about. \n\njerry: what was on the list? \n\ngeorge: let's see, how i'm very good at going in reverse in my car, why isn't postum a more popular drink, \n\njerry: yeah, postum is under-ratted, \n\ngeorge: anyway there was all this tension. i asked her if she wanted to go out to dinner and she said \"no, maybe we could get together for lunch.\" you know what that means. \n\njerry: what's wrong with lunch? \n\ngeorge: lunch is fine at the beginning then you move on to dinner. you don't move back to lunch. it's like being demoted. i'll never do another crossword puzzle with her again. i know it. \n\nkramer: i like the jumble you ever do the jumble? \n\ngeorge: i have no power do you understand? i need hand. i have no hand. \n\nkramer: break up with her \n\ngeorge: what? \n\nkramer: you break up with her. you reverse everything that way. \n\njerry: a preemptive breakup. \n\ngeorge: a preemptive breakup. this is an incredible idea. i got nothing to lose. we either break up which she would do anyway but at least i go out with some dignity. completely turn the tables. it's absolutely brilliant. \n\ngeorge: so, i am have to going to break up with you. \n\nnoel: you're breaking up with me? \n\ngeorge: i, ... am breaking up with, ... you. \n\nnoel: wow. \n\ngeorge: shocked? \n\nnoel: i really am. \n\ngeorge: never expected this did you? \n\nnoel: i thought everything was fine. \n\ngeorge: well, live and learn. \n\nnoel: i don't understand. you're breaking up with me. didn't we have fun doing the crossword puzzles? \n\ngeorge: kind of. \n\nnoel: i'm very confused. \n\ngeorge: well, i didn't mean to hurt you kid. \n\nnoel: i thought,... \n\ngeorge: now, stop it ... \n\nnoel: what do you want, i can make you happy. \n\ngeorge: when you're playing the piano do you think about me? \n\nnoel: i don't know. \n\ngeorge: this is what i'm talking about. \n\nnoel: ok, i'll think about you. \n\ngeorge: all the time. \n\nnoel: all the time? ... ok, all the time. \n\ngeorge: i can't hear you. \n\nnoel: all the time. all the time. \n\ngeorge: see, it's not so hard. \n\nkramer: go ahead smell, smell \n\nsteve: yeah, so? \n\nkramer: do you recognize it? ... the beach. \n\nsteve: what are you talking about? \n\nkramer: oh, i'm talking about the beach. \n\nsteve: what about it? \n\nkramer: you know the way you smell when you first come home from the beach? well, i want to make a cologne that captures the essence of that smell. oh yeah. \n\nsteve: that is the dumbest idea i have ever heard. \n\nkramer: oh, wait, did you here what i just said? \n\nsteve: do you think people are going to pay $80 a bottle to smell like dead fish and sea weed? that's why people take showers when the come home from the beach. it's an objectionable offensive odour. \n\nkramer: so you don't think it's a good idea? \n\n[the intervention [note: double check this part for sure!!!!] \n\nguy: the membranes get dried and it just starts bleeding. since i was a kid so i have to stick tissue up there \n\nelaine: (very uninterested) uh, you have to work like that? \n\nguy: nobody minds nobody has ever said anything to me. \n\nother guy: are there any ice cubes? \n\njerry: in the freezer. \n\nother guy: i looked. there aren't any ice cubes. \n\njerry: well i guess there aren't any ice cubes. \n\nother guy: i can't drink this. it's warm! (walks away) \n\nguy: shouldn't we rehearse this a little bit before richie comes? \n\nsteve: what's the plan? \n\njerry: do i have to talk? i don't feel like talking. \n\nother guy: well, if he's not going to talk i'm not going to talk either. \n\nguy: no, we all have to talk. \n\nelaine: what's the order? \n\nguy: we'll go in alphabetical order. first roberta. \n\nroberta: why am i first? \n\nelaine: albano is your last name. \n\nroberta: that's not my name any more. i'm divorced. \n\nsteve: i'll go first. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: is this the interference? \n\njerry: intervention. \n\nother guy: what are you doing here? \n\nkramer: uh, is it all right if i stay for the intervention? \n\nsteve: hey, this is for close friends only. \n\nkramer: i'm a friend. who do you think told him to pour the gatorade over marty benson's head? \n\nother guy: let him stay. \n\nkramer: hey, you know i got someone to make up that cologne for me, big mouth. \n\nsteve: somebody's going to make that crap? \n\nold guy: kramer! \n\nkramer: hey, come on, these are some of my polar bear buddies. \n\nother guy: they can't stay. \n\nold guy: we're having a party here? \n\njerry: no, we're having an intervention \n\nold guy: an intervention? who's intervening? \n\njerry: there's a friend of ours on drugs and we're going to confront him. \n\nold guy: sure, we used to do that when one of our polar bears stopped coming. we would go to his house and say, \"what you don't want to be a polar bear anymore? it's too cold for you?\" \n\nguy: it's him. \n\nroberta: what should we do? \n\nelaine: hide! \n\njerry: it's not a surprise party! yeah (to intercom) \n\ngeorge: it's george \n\njerry: yeah, come on up. ... it's not him. \n\nguy: if you don't go out with me it's because i'm a bar tender. \n\nelaine: look, i don't think this is appropriate right now. \n\nguy: is it because i have a tissue in my nose? \n\nelaine: you're getting warm. \n\ngeorge: we just came from chadway's(?) what's going on. \n\njerry: we're having the intervention for richie. \n\ngeorge: oh, right, right, the intervention. should we leave? \n\njerry: well, uh.. \n\nnoel: (happily) elaine, hi. \n\nelaine: oh, hi noel \n\njerry: well, you're looking well. \n\ngeorge: jerry, let me tell you something, \"a man without hand is not a man.\" i got so much hand i'm coming out of my gloves. i got to thank kramer. \n\nsteve: even if i were dragged through manure i still wouldn't put that stuff on. \n\ngeorge: (to kramer) this man is a genius. genius! \n\nsteve: you think so? \n\ngeorge: i don't think so i know so, kramer, come here i got to talk to you \n\nold man: the male kangaroo doesn't have a pouch only the female has it. the male has pouch envy. \n\nelaine: (chuckles) \n\nelaine: (laughs) \n\nnoel: that laugh. that's the laugh. that's it. you're the one. \n\nelaine: no, no. it was an accident. it really wasn't my fault. it was jerry. \n\nnoel: you put a pez dispenser on her leg during my recital?. \n\njerry: i didn't know she would laugh. \n\nnoel: you lied to me george, you lied to me. \n\ngeorge: no, i, uh, um, wa, wa, what did i do? ... where are you going? \n\nnoel: i ... am breaking up ... with you! \n\ngeorge: you can't break up with me. i've got hand. \n\nnoel: and you're going to need it. \n\njerry: hey richie \n\nrichie: so what's going on? \n\njerry: it was pretty ugly from the get go. he's not listening, he's hostile, he's talking back. \n\ngeorge: i can't do these puzzles. \n\njerry: so he starts to get up he spots the pez dispenser on the coffee table \n\ngeorge: ah ah pez dispenser. \n\njerry: he picks it up - he stares at it - it's like he's hypnotized by it. then he's telling us this story about how when he was a kid he was in the car with his father, and his father was trying to load one of them \n\ngeorge: well they're hard to load. \n\njerry: tell me something i don't know. so as the father's trying to load it he loses control of the car and it crashes into a high school cafeteria. nobody's hurt but pez is all over the car. and the dispenser was destroyed virtually beyond recognition. \n\ngeorge: poor kid. \n\njerry: so as he's telling the story he starts crying. \n\ngeorge: what did you do? \n\njerry: what do you think? i gave him my pez dispenser. \n\ngeorge: wow \n\njerry: two hours later he checks into smither's clinic. i talked to the doctor yesterday. he's doing great on the rehab. he's hooked on pez. he's eating them like there's no tomorrow. \n\ngeorge: what's a three letter word for candy? \n\njerry: i can't do those things. \n\njerry: let me ask you a question. if you named a kid rasputin do you think that would have a negative effect on his life? \n\nelaine: na. \n\njerry: what are you doing? were going out for dinner in ten minutes. \n\nelaine: do you realize this is the last meal i am going to have for three days? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\ngeorge: its george. \n\njerry: come on up. . . . i never heard of this. youve got to fast for three days to take an ulcer test. how you gonna do that? \n\nelaine: i dont know. how could i possibly have ulcers? who could have given me ulcers? \n\njerry: i think ill take out the garbage. \n\nelaine: hey, have you ever fasted? \n\njerry: well, once i didnt have dinner until, like 900 oclock, that was pretty rough. (exits to hall with garbage meets george) hey, do me a favour will ya? throw out my garbage for me. \n\ngeorge: yeah, right. \n\njerry: come on, its just down the hall. \n\ngeorge: give me two bucks. ill do it for two bucks. \n\njerry: ill give you 50 cents. \n\ngeorge: theres no way i touch that bag for less than two dollars. \n\njerry: come on. fifty cents. (??) a piece of drakes coffee cake \n\ngeorge: youre not getting no drakes coffee cake for fifty cents. yae, hey, im all set. i got the ticket. im going to the cayman islands this friday. \n\njerry: i dont get you. who goes on vacation without a job? what do you need a break from getting up at eleven? \n\ngeorge: its an incredible deal. i dont know why you dont come with me. \n\njerry: nah, i dont go for these non-refundable deals. i cant commit to a woman. im not going to commit to an airline. \n\ngina: hi. \n\njerry: hi. \n\ngina: how are you? \n\njerry: gina, do you know what a drakes coffee cake is? \n\ngina: of course, the plane cake with the sweet brown crumbs on the top. \n\njerry: how much do they cost? \n\ngina: the junior? \n\ngeorge: no, no the full size. \n\njerry: no, no the junior. \n\ngeorge: you didnt say \"junior\". \n\ngina: i havent had one of those since i was a little girl. \n\njerry: really? you should be ashamed of yourself. i want you out of here! (martin enters the hall) how ya doing? \n\nmartin: good enough. \n\njerry: boy shes sexy isnt she? \n\njerry: do you believe that guy? \n\nelaine: what guy? \n\njerry: my neighbour \n\nelaine: oh, that creepy guy? \n\njerry: yeah, did he think i was flirting with her? \n\ngeorge: he didnt seem too pleased. \n\nelaine: maybe ill get a steak with french fried onion wings. \n\ngeorge: hey, you know what? i just remembered something. i had a dream about that guy last night. this is amazing. \n\njerry: whats so amazing? youve seen him before. \n\ngeorge: i havent seen him for months. \n\njerry: what was the dream? \n\ngeorge: i was doing standup comedy in kennebunkport maine. ??? night club. the stage was on a cliff and the audience was throwing all the comics off. \n\njerry: i think ive played there. \n\ngeorge: ive had a lot of other paranormal stuff happen to me. \n\njerry: youre a little paranormal \n\nelaine: hey, george, you know my friend goes to a psychic. \n\ngeorge: really? \n\nelaine: uh uh, you should go some time. \n\ngeorge: id love to go. make an appointment. \n\njerry: psychics, vacations. how about getting a job? \n\ngeorge: i just got fired. \n\njerry: alright, come on, lets get out of here. \n\nelaine: i wonder what ghandi ate before his fast. \n\njerry: i heard he used to polish off a box of triscuits. \n\nelaine: really? \n\njerry: oh, yeah. ghandi loved triscuits. \n\njerry: who is it? who is it? \n\ngina: its gina. \n\njerry: who? \n\ngina: martines girl friend. \n\njerry: martine? \n\ngina: you next door neighbour. \n\njerry: oh, martin! \n\ngeorge: its martine. i think hes dying. he tried to kill himself with pills. \n\njerry: what? \n\ngina: come on. \n\njerry: in my pajamas? i better get my robe. \n\ngina: we dont have enough time. \n\njerry: itll take two seconds. \n\ngina: there is no time. \n\njerry: we dont have two seconds? \n\ngina: all right. go ahead. \n\njerry: nah, forget it. \n\ngina: no, go ahead. \n\njerry: nah. ill just wear the pajamas. \n\ngina: will you just get it. \n\njerry: are you sure? \n\ngina: forget it. come on. \n\njerry: nah, ill go get the robe. \n\njerry: thats not too bad. its not like a sunny von bulow comma. the doctor said he should snap out of it anytime. \n\ngina: you know why he did this? because i told him it was over. i did not want to see him anymore. \n\njerry: really? its over? \n\ngina: i could not stand it another minute. yesterday he turned over a mans hot dog stand because he thought the man was looking at me. and then after he saw you in the hall. ach, he was crazy with jealousy. \n\njerry: oh boy, did he say anything about me? \n\ngina: he does not like you. and all indications are he does not like drakes coffee cake. \n\njerry: he said that? \n\ngina: he was screaming about it all night. how its too sweet and it falls apart when you eat it. \n\njerry: im sorry if i caused any trouble. i was just being friendly. \n\ngina: i wasnt. \n\njerry: you werent? \n\ngina: no, i have thought about you many times. have you thought about me? \n\njerry: of course. \n\ngina: tell me everything. \n\njerry: are you sure he cant hear anything? . . .martin, martin. \n\ngina: i wish he was not in a coma. i wish he was dead. i wish i could pull the plug out from him. \n\njerry: i, would, i would wait on that. i know how you feel but. juries today, you never know how theyre going to look at a thing like this. \n\ngina: i saw you looking at your watch. you want to leave? go ahead. \n\njerry: no, i just wanted to see what time it was. \n\ngina: are you afraid of him? \n\njerry: no. \n\ngina: then kiss me. \n\njerry: here? \n\ngina: yes, right here. \n\njerry: is this the proper venue? \n\ngina: you dont want to? \n\njerry: no, no, i want to. i, i very much want to. i, i desire to. i, i pine to. \n\ngina: then kiss me right in front of him. \n\njerry: i cant. what if he wakes up? \n\ngina: a man is lying here unconscious and youre afraid of him? what kind of a man are you? \n\njerry: a man who respects a good comma. if it was one of those in and out comas, maybe. but when a guys got a coma going like this you dont want to mess with it. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: did you hear about martin? \n\njerry: yeah, i heard. \n\nkramer: i cant believe hes in a coma. \n\nkramer: hes got my vacuum cleaner. you know i loaned it to him. he never returned it. the carpets are filthy. what am i going to do? \n\njerry: who told you about martin? \n\nkramer: newman! hes good friends with him. \n\njerr: oh, big mouth newman. i should have guessed. \n\nkramer: hes got all of my attachments, you know. \n\njerry: hey, let me ask you something. how long do you have to wait for a guy to come out of a coma before you can ask his ex-girlfriend out? \n\nkramer: what, gina? why wait? why not just call doctor kavorkian? \n\njerry: you know i dont get that whole suicide machine. theres no tall buildings where these people live? they cant wrap their lips around a revolver like a normal person? \n\nkramer: so whats going on between you and gina? \n\njerry: well, i went with her to the hospital last night. \n\nkramer: uh, uh. \n\njerry: so were in the room and shes trying to get me to kiss her right in front of him. \n\nkramer: uh, uh, you see thats the great thing about mediterranean women. all right, so what did you do? \n\njerry: nothing. \n\nkramer: ah, what kind of a man are you? the guy is unconscious in a coma and you dont have the guts to kiss his girlfriend? \n\njerry: i didnt know what the coma etiquette was. \n\nkramer: there is no coma etiquette. you see thats the beauty of the coma, man. it doesnt matter what you do around it. \n\njerry: so youre saying, his girl, his car, his clothes, its all up for grabs. you can just loot the coma victim. \n\nkramer: id give him 24 hours to get out of it. they cant get out of it in 24 hours, its a land rush. \n\njerry: so if the coma victim wakes up in a month, hes thrilled, he got out of the coma. he goes home, theres nothing left? \n\nkramer: nothing left! thats why im trying to get that vacuum cleaner. because somebodys going to grab it. \n\nrula: martins spirit came to you as a warning. \n\nelaine: why would he come to george? \n\nrula: because george has heightened extra sensory perception. faygy get your finger out of your nose. \n\ngeorge: i knew it. i always felt different. \n\nrula: you are. some coffee cake? \n\ngeorge: drakes? \n\nrula: yes. \n\ngeorge: did you buy this for me? \n\nrula: no, why? \n\ngeorge: ha, because i love drakes coffee cake. \n\nrula: maybe i did. \n\nelaine: take it away. \n\ngeorge: she hasnt eaten in two days. \n\nrula: whos pauline? \n\ngeorge: pauline? . . . wait a minute. i got it. my brother once impregnated a woman named pauline. \n\nrula: do you think about her? \n\ngeorge: when i hear her name mentioned. \n\nrula: cut these with your left hand. \n\ngeorge: there was a woman, audrey. she had a very big nose. \n\nrula: i see an audrey, but with a small nose. \n\ngeorge: yes, yes, she had a nose job. i loved her very deeply. will she ever speak to me again? \n\nrula: not in this life. \n\nelaine: should you be smoking? \n\nrula: does it bother you? \n\nelaine: youre pregnant. \n\ngeorge: elaine. \n\nrula: i smoked when i had faisy. \n\nrula: ah oh. \n\ngeorge: ah oh? what? what ah oh? \n\nrula: i dont know about this trip george. \n\ngeorge: you can see the cayman islands in there? is something going to happen to me? what? \n\nelaine: its really bad for the fetus. do you know that. \n\ngeorge: elaine, shes a psychic. she knows how the kids going to be. \n\ngeorge: should i not go on this trip? \n\nrula: george, i am going to tell you something and i want you to really hear me. \n\nelaine: now listen. i just dont know how a person, with everything we now know about pre-natal care can put a cigarette in her mouth. \n\ngeorge: elaine, what are you doing? \n\nelaine: its disgusting. \n\nrula: i dont belive it. i would like you both to leave. \n\nelaine: oh fine, i dont like to be around people who are just so irresponsible. \n\nrula: get the hell out. \n\ngeorge: a plane crash? a heart attack? lupus? is it lupus? \n\nrula: do you want me to call the super? he was an israeli commando. \n\ngeorge: if you dont say anything i will assume its a plane crash. \n\nrula: get out. \n\ngeorge: not a plane crash. (leaving) is it a plane crash? \n\ngina: i do not like your toothbrush. there are no bristles. \n\njerry: you can say what you want about me but ill be damned if im going to stand here while you insult my toothbrush. \n\ngina: it is too small for someone with such a big mouth (kisses kerry). let me ask you. what will you do if martine wakes up? run away like a mouse? \n\njerry: no, more like the three stooges at the end of every movie. \n\ngina: who are these stooges you speak of? \n\njerry: theyre a comedy team. \n\ngina: tell me about them. everything. \n\njerry: well, theyre three kind of funny looking guys and they hit each other a lot. \n\ngina: you will show me the stooges? \n\njerry: i will show you the stooges. \n\ngina: when? \n\njerry: well, i dont really know where the stooges are right now but if i locate them you will be the first to know. \n\ngina: come, you walk me to a cab. \n\njerry: well, uh, i uh, i dont want you to get upset or anything but uh, with martin and all, well maybe its not such a good idea for us to be seen together in the building, because, you know, he had a lot of friends here. \n\ngina: youre still afraid. you are not a man. \n\njerry: well then what are all those ties and sport jackets doing in my closet? \n\ngina: are you going to walk me to a cab or not? \n\njerry: yeah, all right. all right. \n\nkramer: you should just eat fruit. \n\nnewman: i cant eat fruit. it makes me incontinent. \n\nkramer: ??? \n\nnewman: hello gina. hello jerry. \n\njerry: hello newman. \n\njerry: do you think newman would tell martin if he wakes up? what kind of sicko would do that? he could kill me. \n\ngeorge: people smoke, elaine. my mother smoked. it didnt hurt me. \n\nelaine: (jumps with fear to jerry) did you see that wall move? \n\njerry: boy, its a good thing we came. \n\ngeorge: could there be a native p0roblem in the caymans? maybe theres native unrest. \n\nelaine: hi, i havent eaten in three days. i was wondering how much longer it would be until i get my x-ray. \n\nnurse: well call you. \n\njerry: george, i want you to promise me something. if im ever in a comma. in the first 24 hours get everything out of my apartment and put it in storage. \n\ngeorge: how come? \n\njerry: looters. \n\nelaine: how do we know that dog food is any good? who tastes it? \n\njerry: shes really hungry. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\nelaine: kramer \n\nkramer: well, newmans upstairs visiting martin. \n\ngeorge: would you buy my cayman island ticket? \n\nkramer: youre not going? \n\ngeorge: no. \n\nkramer: why not? \n\ngeorge: the psychic said something terrible will happen. \n\nkramer: i dig. \n\nkramer: i want my vacuum cleaner! i know you can hear me. look my mother, shes going to come and visit me. she sees that rug, shes going to kill me. \n\nnewman: he cant hear you, you idiot. why dont you just buy another one. \n\nkramer: why would i buy another one when i spent a hundred bucks on this one? \n\nnewman: i have a carpet sweeper you can use. \n\nkramer: i dont want a carpet sweeper. they dont do anything. \n\nnewman: it gets my rug clean. \n\nkramer: the carpet sweeper is the biggest scam perpetrated on the american public since one hour martinizing. \n\nnewman: well, you should take a look at my rug then. \n\nkramer: i wouldnt set foot in your house. \n\njerry: hello. \n\nnewman: hello jerry. \n\njerry: hows he doing? \n\nkramer: he looks happy to me. \n\nnewman: i hope he stays this happy when he wakes up. \n\njerry: why wouldnt he? \n\nnewman: no reason. \n\njerry: hell have a lot of catching up to do, i guess. \n\nnewman: ill bring him up to date. \n\njerry: how up to date? \n\nnewman: oh, all the way up. \n\njerry: and nothing could change your mind? \n\nnewman: well, it would take a hell of a lot. because a friend is something you earn. \n\nkramer: okay, jerry has a friend who has free tickets to the cayman islands for this weekend. hes not going. \n\nnewman: i dont care much for the beach. i freckle. . . . is that a,.. \n\njerry: drakes coffee cake \n\nnewman: wow, where did you get that? \n\njerry: from my house. i got a whole box of them. \n\nnewman: boy, thats the full size. \n\njerry: thats your big boy. \n\nnewman: can i have a bite? \n\njerry: i dont give out bites. i got another one. but im saving it for later. \n\nnewman: just one bite? \n\njerry: i dont think so. you know they, theyre so fragile. \n\nnewman: all right! all right. i wont say anything. \n\njerry: you swear? \n\nnewman: i swear. \n\njerry: on your mothers life? \n\nnewman: on my mothers life. \n\nkramer: oh oh oh oh oh \n\nnewman: oooh, \n\nelaine: and there it was, mountains of duck. and not fatty duck either, but juicy tender breasts of duck. \n\ngeorge: sweetheart, no come here, sweetheart \n\nrula: pew, pew, pew, pew (breathing) \n\ngeorge: how did i know you were here? something drew me here. this is phenomenal. \n\nrula: the nurse said she would be right back. theyre supposed to take me into the delivery room. \n\ngeorge: oh, thats great. thats great. by the way i have to apologize for my friend the other day. friend? uh, uh i dont even know that woman. i met her on the bus on the way over. i couldnt get rid of her. uh, my psychic instincts were a little off .. \n\nrula: oh, wheres the nurse \n\ngeorge: i dont know where the nurse is. sweetheart why dont you get a nurse for mommy? anyway i was just curious. remember the other day you were saying something about my trip. \n\nrula: dont take that trip. \n\ngeorge: yeah, why? why? \n\nrula: (screams) eeey, beegit, beegit beegit. \n\ndx: all right, rula, its time to go. \n\ngeorge: because? because? \n\nelaine: assassins! how dare they keep a person waiting like this! drakes coffee cake? give me that. \n\nnewman: jerry, you better stop her or ill tell. \n\njerry: elaine! no! no! \n\nmartin: ooooh, ahhhh, \n\ngeorge: are there terrorists on the plane? a hotel fire. is that it? malaria? yellow fever? lupus? is it lupus? \n\nnewman: he did it right in this bed, martin. right in front of you. \n\nkramer: i want my vacuum cleaner! \n\njerry: hey! \n\nnewman: it was disgusting. \n\njerry: what are you doing? were going out to dinner in ten minutes. \n\ngeorge: i never assisted in a birth before. its really quite disgusting. \n\njerry: what did she name the kid? \n\ngeorge: you wouldnt believe it. rasputin. \n\nkramer: heey! \n\ngeorge: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\ngeorge: when did you get back? \n\nkramer: a couple of hours ago. \n\ngeorge: so how was it? \n\nkramer: george, i would like to thank you for the greatest four days i ever spent in my life. \n\njerry: osh. \n\nkramer: they were shooting the sports illustrated swim suit issue right in the hotel pool. \n\njerry: woah. (hitting george) \n\nkramer: not only that but at the hotel they opened up this area on the beach for nude bathing and all of the sports illustrated models went down there. \n\njerry: wow! (hitting george) \n\nkramer: i was on the next blanket from elle mcpherson \n\njerry: oh! (hitting george) \n\nkramer: we played backgammon in the nude. \n\njerry: oh! (hitting george) \n\nkramer: shes a sweet kid. \n\njerry: nude backgammon with swimsuit models! \n\nkramer: oh, you know what? the second day i was there i stepped on a jellyfish. now it kind of stung my foot. thats probably what rula was trying to warn you about. \n\ngeorge: yeah, you gotta watch for the jellyfish. \n\nkramer: yeah. \n\nkramer: whats this? \n\njerry: oh, its an invitation to a house warming from martin and gina. \n\nkramer: they moved in together? \n\njerry: yeah, its some place down in the village. \n\nkramer: phew. \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nelaine: its elaine. \n\njerry: all right were coming down. \n\nkramer: hey, where ya going? \n\njerry: were taking elaine to dinner. shes got to start the fast again. um, you want to go? \n\nkramer: um, id like to but a bunch of us from the islands, well be getting together. \n\ngeorge: elle mcpherson going to be there? \n\nkramer: oh! i got to call her back. \n\ngeorge: why even try anymore? there's no sense to it. i'm never gonna meet anybody, i should just accept it. \n\njerry: oh, yes you will. \n\ngeorge: no, i won't. \n\njerry: yeah, maybe you won't. \n\ngeorge: i mean it's hard enough to meet a woman you dislike, much less like. \n\njerry: are my nostrils getting bigger? \n\ngeorge: no. why must it be so difficult? why is there all this tension and hostility? why can't i just walk up to a woman on the street and say, \"hi. i'm \n\ncynthia: there's just no men out there, you know? \n\nelaine: i know. \n\ncynthia: i mean the problem is that the good ones know they're good. and they know they're in such demand they're just not interested in confining themselves to one person. \n\nelaine: i hate the good ones. \n\ncynthia: is jerry one of the good ones? \n\nelaine: that's a good question, i think he thinks he is. \n\ncynthia: well, the mediocre ones are available, but they're so insecure about not being one of the good ones that they're always going, \"well i'm not good enough for you, what are you doing with me?\" and eventually i just go, \"you're right.\" \n\nelaine: you know, maybe you need somebody between good and mediocre. \n\ncynthia: no, maybe i need somebody who has nothing, somebody who just has to appreciate being with me because he's so desperate. \n\ngeorge: i mean it's gotten to the point where i'm flirting with operators on the phone. i almost made a date with one. \n\njerry: oh, so there's still hope. \n\ngeorge: i don't want hope. hope is killing me. my dream is to become hopeless. when you're hopeless, you don't care, and when you don't care, that indifference makes you attractive. \n\njerry: oh, so hopelessness is the key. \n\ngeorge: it's my only hope. \n\ncynthia: see, i wouldn't really mind so much, but i feel badly for my mother. i mean, if my mother weren't around, it wouldn't be so bad. but, i'm telling you, if i'm not married by the time i'm forty, i'm gonna have to kill her because it's the only fair thing to do. i just couldn't put her through that. \n\nelaine: well, at least you're not bitter. \n\ncynthia: who says i'm not bitter? \n\nelaine: aren't you too young to be bitter? \n\ncynthia: no, you can be young and bitter, just maybe not as bitter as i'm gonna be ten years from now, but i'm bitter. anyway, don't tell anyone. \n\nelaine: don't worry, your bitterness is safe with me. \n\ncynthia: um, order me a piece of cake. i'm gonna go throw up. \n\njerry: look at my hands. look. filthy from the paper. you know, they should give you a wet-nap when you buy one, like at those rib joints. \n\nelaine: so what'd you do last night? \n\njerry: went out with george, you? \n\nelaine: went out with cynthia. \n\njerry: how was it? what'd you talk about? \n\nelaine: well, you know, the usual; the federal reserve, the rainforest. cynthia thought we should nuke the rainforest, you know, get rid of it in one fell swoop so we can at least eliminate it as a subject of conversation. what about you? \n\njerry: we brushed on that. actually, george was in rare form. he just can't find anybody. \n\nelaine: i know, cynthia too. she's really given up. \n\njerry: george too. \n\njerry and elaine (together): yeah, right. \n\njerry: i've never fixed anybody up. \n\nelaine: uh, me neither and i am not about to start with george. \n\njerry: well why wouldn't you start with george? you think she's too good for george? \n\nelaine: i didn't say 'too good', did i say 'too good'? \n\njerry: well you implied it. \n\nelaine: i didn't say it. \n\njerry: because if you think she's too good for george, you are dead wrong. dead wrong. who is she? \n\nelaine: who is he? \n\njerry: he's george! \n\nelaine: she's cynthia! \n\njerry: so what? \n\nelaine: what, you don't think she's beautiful? \n\njerry: i don't know, what's with the eyebrows? \n\nelaine: you know what your problem is? your standards are too high. \n\njerry: i went out with you. \n\nelaine: that's because my standards are too low. and by the way, you know, women kill for eyebrows like that. do you know that? i mean women pluck their real eyebrows out of their head, one by one, until they're bald, jerry. bald above the eyes! and then they paint in these eyebrows to look like that. \n\njerry: well let me tell you something about george. he is fast. he can run like the wind. and he's strong. i've seen him lift a hundred pounds over his head without even knowing it. and you wouldn't know it to look at him, but george can bait a hook. \n\nelaine: he can really do that? \n\njerry: come on, let's do it, i think they'll really get along. \n\nelaine: what, are you into this? \n\njerry: yeah, come on, it's a good match. \n\nelaine: no, wait a minute, wait a minute. they're gonna be telling us how their dates went. are we gonna share that information? \n\njerry: naturally. \n\nelaine: well, wait a minute, we're gonna tell each other everything, i mean every secret? \n\njerry: everything. \n\nelaine: what if it worked out? \n\njerry (dialing): yeah right. \n\ngeorge: out of the question. out of the question! \n\njerry: why? \n\ngeorge: no! i'm not gonna do that! that's one step away from personal ads! and prostitutes! no! no, i am not going down that road! what does she look like? \n\njerry: she's good looking. \n\ngeorge: how good looking? \n\njerry: very good looking. \n\ngeorge: really good looking? \n\njerry: really very good looking. \n\ngeorge: would you take her out? \n\njerry: yes, i would take her out. \n\ngeorge: oh, you hesitated. \n\njerry: what hesitate? i didn't hesitate! \n\ngeorge: no, something's off here, you hesitated. \n\njerry: i'm telling you, she's good looking. \n\ngeorge: what about the body, what kind of body? \n\njerry: good body, nice body. \n\ngeorge: how nice? \n\njerry: nice. \n\ngeorge: just nice? \n\njerry: pretty nice. \n\ngeorge: really good? \n\njerry: really very nice and good. \n\ngeorge: what about personality? \n\njerry: good personality. funny. bright. \n\ngeorge: smarter than me? i don't want anyone smarter than me. \n\njerry: how could she be smarter than you? \n\ngeorge: alright, let's see, let's see. what else. what else. oh yeah, what does she do? \n\ncynthia: first of all, what does he do? \n\nelaine: he was in real estate, um, now, he's not working right now- \n\ncynthia: he's not working?! how come he's not working? \n\nelaine: well, um, he, he got fired. \n\ncynthia: why did he get fired? \n\nelaine: uh. why? oh, right. um, well, he tried to poison his boss. \n\ncynthia: excuse me? \n\nelaine: such a long story, cynthia, seriously, i mean he just had some problems at work. \n\ncynthia: is he nuts? \n\nelaine: no, no, no, he's a really really funny guy. \n\ncynthia: what does he look like? \n\nelaine: pardon? \n\ncynthia: what does he look like? \n\nelaine: um, well, he's got a lot of character in his face. um, he's short. um, he's stocky. \n\ncynthia: fat. is that what you're saying, that he's fat? \n\nelaine: powerful. he is so powerful, he can lift a hundred pounds right up over his head. and um, what else. what else. oh, right. um, well, he's kind of, just kind of losing his hair. \n\ncynthia: he's bald? \n\nelaine: no! no, no, no, he's not bald. he's balding. \n\ncynthia: so he will be bald. \n\nelaine: yup. \n\ngeorge: what kind of hair? \n\njerry: you know, long dark hair. \n\ngeorge: flowing? \n\njerry: flowing? \n\ngeorge: is it flowing? i like flowing, cascading hair. thick lustrous hair is very important to me. \n\njerry: 'thick lustrous hair is very important to me,' is that what you said? \n\ngeorge: yeah, that's right. \n\njerry: just clarifying. \n\ngeorge: let me ask you this. if you stick your hand in the hair is it easy to get it out? \n\njerry: do you want to be able to get it out or do you want to not be able to get it out? \n\ngeorge: i'd like to be able to get it out. \n\njerry: i think you'll get it out. \n\ngeorge: what about the skin? i need a good cheek, i like a good cheek. \n\njerry: she's got a fine cheek. \n\ngeorge: is there a pinkish hue? \n\njerry: a pinkish hue? \n\ngeorge: yes, a rosy glow. \n\njerry: there's a hue. she's got great eyebrows, women kill to have her eyebrows. \n\ngeorge: who cares about eyebrows? is she sweet? i like sweet. but not too sweet, you could throw up from that. \n\njerry: i don't think you'll throw up. *she* likes to throw up. \n\ncynthia: has he ever been married? \n\nelaine: no. \n\ncynthia: has he been close? \n\nelaine: he once spent a weekend with a woman. \n\ncynthia: he didn't really try to poison his boss? \n\nelaine: yeah, he did. \n\ngeorge: we had an incredible phone conversation. we talked for like twenty minutes. i threw away my notes in the middle of the call. you know, i thought she had a great voice timbre. is it timbre or tamber? \n\njerry: i think it's tamber. \n\ngeorge: why'd i think it was timbre? yeah, she could do voiceover commercials, why didn't you tell me about her voice? \n\njerry: i didn't notice the voice. \n\ngeorge: it's mellifluous! \n\njerry: so, saturday night. \n\ngeorge: she had to be impressed by that conversation, had to! it was a great performance. i am unbelievable on the phone. on the date they should just have two phones on the table at the restaurant, done. \n\nelaine: hi. \n\ngeorge: hey! saturday night! \n\nelaine: i know! \n\ngeorge: so, what did she say? \n\nelaine: she said you're getting together saturday night! \n\ngeorge: that's it? \n\nelaine: yeah! \n\ngeorge: she didn't mention anything about the conversation? \n\nelaine: no. \n\ngeorge: now, you see, i don't get that. we had a relaxed stimulating, great conversation, she doesn't mention it? why doesn't she mention it? \n\nelaine: what? \n\njerry: she could have mentioned the conversation. \n\ngeorge: alright, alright, i'll go on the date, but that's that. \n\nkramer: hey. \n\njerry: hey. \n\nkramer: you know my friend, bob sacamano? \n\njerry: oh, the guy from jersey? \n\nkramer: yeah. he just got a job at a condom factory in edison. look at this, he gave me a gross. \n\ngeorge: what are you gonna do with all of them? \n\nkramer: oh, well... come on, take some, jerry. grab 'em. \n\njerry: no thanks, they look like they came out of a cereal box. \n\nkramer: come on, elaine, here, take half a bag. \n\nelaine: half a bag? what am i, a hooker? anyway, they look kind of cheap. \n\ngeorge: i'll take one. it's possible. \n\njerry: so where are they already, it's a quarter to twelve, they should be back by now, what did they do? \n\nelaine: i think they went out to dinner. \n\njerry: wait, i got another call. that must be him. [clicks over] hello? \n\ngeorge: yeah, it's me, i just got home. \n\njerry: oh, hold on. [clicks back] it's george, he just got home. \n\nelaine: yeah, yeah, i got cynthia on the other line. \n\njerry: alright, i'll call you back as soon as i'm done. \n\nelaine: remember our pact. full disclosure. \n\njerry: of course. [clicks back to george] yeah, go ahead. \n\ngeorge: alright look, i'm gonna tell you, but i made a pact with cynthia, we swore we were not going to tell you and elaine. \n\njerry: you can tell me, i'll vault it. \n\ngeorge: it's in the vault? \n\njerry: i'm locking the vault. what? \n\ngeorge: we had sex. \n\njerry: oh my god, you had sex, how did that happen? \n\ngeorge: i don't know. i closed my eyes and made a move. \n\njerry: at your apartment? \n\ngeorge: yeah. \n\njerry: she didn't stay over? \n\ngeorge: no, she left. listen, you can't mention any of this to elaine. cynthia will kill me, we made a deal. \n\nelaine: oh my god. \n\ncynthia: he was uncomfortable because it was our first time so he felt he would perform better if we did it in the kitchen. he said the kitchen is always the most sociable room in the house. and he was serious. \n\nelaine: so? how was it? \n\ncynthia: how good could it be? my head was on a hot plate. \n\nelaine: wait, i got another call, that must be jerry. \n\ncynthia: oh wait, don't you tell him any of this. \n\nelaine: yeah, ok. [clicks over] hello? \n\njerry: so, what did she have to say? \n\nelaine: what did he have to say? \n\njerry: he said they had a good time. \n\nelaine: her too. \n\njerry: oh, good. \n\nelaine: anything else? \n\njerry: nope. you? \n\nelaine: nope. \n\njerry: you sure? \n\nelaine: yup. you? \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nelaine: alright. well uh, guess everything is under control. \n\njerry: yeah. okay then. \n\nelaine: alright. goodnight. \n\njerry: goodnight. \n\ngeorge: i left three messages. i can't believe this woman. she has sex with me, leaves ten minutes later then i never hear from her again. what kind of a person does this? i mean, she used me. i feel cheap and violated. \n\njerry: well, i'm gonna do something about this. \n\ngeorge: what are you gonna do? \n\njerry: nevermind. disgraceful. leaves you sitting there on the kitchen floor like some kind of roach trap. wham, bam, thank you ma'am. sir, whatever. she's not going to get away with this. \n\ngeorge: i keep wracking my brain to try and figure out what i did. i was smart, i was funny, i made great small talk with the waitress so she could see i could relate to the commoners, you know, i'm a man of the people. \n\njerry: i'm gonna call her. \n\ngeorge: no, don't call her. \n\njerry: no, i'm calling her. \n\ngeorge: no, jerry, don't call. \n\njerry: no, forget it, i'm gonna call. \n\ngeorge: i don't want you to call. \n\njerry: get away from me, i'm gonna call her. \n\ngeorge: give me the phone! \n\njerry: george, do you wanna fight? do you wanna fight? \n\ngeorge: jerry, i'm gonna kill you! \n\nkramer: hey hey hey!! come on! jerry, george, now stop it! \n\njerry: i'll just call her when you leave! \n\ngeorge: you can't do that, it's none of your business! \n\njerry: it is so my business! \n\nkramer: hey hey hey! i don't want to hear another word out of either one of you! \n\ngeorge: but tell him to give me the-- \n\nkramer: ay ay ay! the next one of you that opens up your mouth, says something, you're gonna have to deal with me. you know, i bet i know what this is about. it's about a woman, isn't it? \n\ngeorge: no. \n\njerry: yeah, but-- \n\nkramer: yeah yeah! you see, this is exactly what they want to do to you. they play one against the other. you can't let them manipulate you like that. \n\njerry: but kramer-- \n\nkramer: noh noh noh! i want you guys to shake hands. come on, there are plenty of women out there for all of us, let's go. \n\nkramer: yes. you see? isn't that better than fighting? animosity? i mean, you wanna fight with somebody, you fight with me. oh, by the way george, you know those condoms i gave you? they're defective, don't use them. \n\ngeorge: what? \n\nkramer: right. \n\ngeorge: defective?! \n\nkramer: defective. \n\ngeorge: (attacking kramer) how could you give me a defective condom?! \n\nkramer: i didn't even know they were defective. \n\nkramer: didn't even thin you were gonna use them. \n\ngeorge: what do you mean you didn't think i wasn't gonna use them?! \n\njerry: take it easy, you guys, just spread out! don't worry about it, if anything was wrong she would have called you already! \n\ncynthia: i missed my period. \n\nelaine: oh my god. \n\ncynthia: i am very worried, i am never late. \n\nelaine: but he used a condom, right? \n\ncynthia: i know, but these things aren't always foolproof. \n\nelaine: oh no. \n\ncynthia: what? \n\nelaine: was it blue? \n\ncynthia: yeah. how'd you know? \n\nelaine: just a hunch. \n\njerry: ow! ow! twist off! twist off! twist off! \n\njerry: oh, hi. soda? \n\nelaine: no thanks. \n\njerry: so tell me. what's the problem with your little flaky friend? she doesn't return calls? \n\nelaine: who are you to talk about her like that? she'll call him when she's good and ready. you don't even know her. \n\njerry: oh, i know her. i know her type. \n\nelaine: her type? what type? \n\njerry: the type that doesn't return phone calls. i knew we shouldn't have done this, it was a bad idea in the first place, i told you! \n\nelaine: you told me? you pushed this whole thing on me, it was your idea! \n\njerry: i was just trying to help your bitter, twisted friend. \n\nelaine: she's not bitter! \n\njerry: well, bitter's a judgement call, but she's twisted! \n\nelaine: twisted? god, i did you a favor. \n\njerry: i thought you said they had a good time, is there anything else you're keeping from me? \n\nelaine: are you calling me a liar? \n\njerry: i'm calling you one if you are one, are you a liar? \n\nelaine: are you? \n\njerry: get your finger out of my face. \n\nelaine: you get yours out, i was here first! \n\njerry: i don't care. \n\nelaine: get it out! \n\nkramer: hey hey, alright, hey hey, stop it! come on, break it up! what's the matter with you? now don't you two see that you're in love with each other? i mean, why can't you face that already? you're running around out there looking for something that's not even there, when everything that you dream of is right here, right here in front of you. now why can't you admit that? by the way, when you see george give him these, these'll work. \n\nelaine: i knew those condoms were defective! \n\njerry: how did you know they were defective?! \n\nelaine: because! because she missed her period! \n\ngeorge: she missed her period? oh my god. i can't believe it! i'm a father! i did it! my boys can swim! i can do it! i can do it! \n\ncynthia: so he shows up. he's all out of breath. he's disheveled. and he tells me that no matter what happens, whatever i decide is fine with him and that i could depend on him, and that he would be there to support me in whatever way i need. elaine, i was speechless. \n\nelaine: wow. wow. you see? you think you know somebody. \n\ncynthia: i said to him, \"i really appreciate this, but i just got my period.\" and so, i asked him to come in, he came in-- \n\nelaine: hi! \n\ngeorge: sorry, we're a little late. we got so hung up in traffic. \n\nelaine: what happened? \n\njerry: acting. \n\nelaine: very mature. \n\njerry: thank you. hi cynthia. \n\ncynthia: hi. \n\njerry: well this is a great place to sit you got here. \n\ncynthia: best seat in the house. (looking at george) right next to the kitchen. \n\ngeorge: (hitting cynthia playfully with a napkin) stop it, stop it. \n\njerry: so what are these? \n\nelaine: oh, we ordered some appetizers. start eating. \n\ngeorge: (with a mouth full of food) this is good. oh, this is good. \n\nkramer: wide open, i was wide open underneath! i had three inches on that guy. you two were hogging the ball. \n\ngeorge: me? it wasn't me i never even saw the ball. all you do is dribble. \n\njerry: i have to dribble, if i give it to you, you just shoot. you're a chucker. \n\ngeorge: oh i'm a chucker. \n\njerry: that's right, everytime you get the ball you shoot. \n\ngeorge: i can't believe you called me a chucker. no way i'm a chucker, i do not chuck, never chucked, never have chucked, never will chuck, no chuck! \n\njerry: you chuck. \n\ngeroge: kramer am i a chucker? \n\nkramer: you're a chucker. \n\ngeorge: all these years i've been chuckin' and you've never told me? \n\njerry: well it's not an easy thing to bring up. \n\nkramer: hey you know this is the first time we've ever seen each other naked. \n\njerry: believe me i didn't see anything. \n\nkramer: oh, you didn't sneak a peak? \n\njerry: no, did you? \n\nkramer: yeah, i snuck a peak. \n\njerry: why? \n\nkramer: why not? hey what about you george? \n\ngeorge: yeah, i ... i snuck a peak. ... but it was so fast i didn't see anything. it was just a blur. \n\njerry: i made a conscious effort not to look. there's certain information i just don't want to have. \n\nkramer: uh, i gotta go meet newman. all right. i'll see you later. \n\njerry: all right \n\nkramer: have a good one. \n\njerry: all right \n\ngeorge: see ya. \n\ngeorge: look at this guy. does he have to stretch in here? \n\njerry: you know who that is? that's \n\ngeorge: keith hernandez? the baseball player? \n\njerry: yeah, that's him. \n\ngeorge: are you sure? \n\njerry: positive. \n\ngeorge: wow, keith hernandez. he's such a great player. \n\njerry: yeah, he's a real smart guy too. he's a civil war buff. \n\ngeorge: i'd love to be a civil war buff. ... what do you have to do to be a buff \n\njerry: so biff wants to be a buff? ... well sleeping less than 18 hours a day would be a start. \n\ngeorge: ho ho ho ho. you know i only got two weeks left of unemployment. i got to prove i've been looking for a job to get an extension \n\njerry: hey, should we say something to him? \n\ngeorge: oh, yeah i'm sure he loves to hear from fans in the locker room. \n\njerry: well he could say hello to me. i wouldn't mind. \n\ngeorge: he's keith hernandez. you're jerry seinfeld. \n\njerry: so? \n\ngeorge: what are you comparing yourself to keith hernandez. the guys a baseball player jerry, baseball! \n\njerry: i know what he is. i recognized him. you didn't even notice him. \n\ngeorge: what, ... you are making some wisecracks in a night club... wo wo wo. the guy was in game six two runs down two outs facing elimination. \n\nkeith: excuse me. i don't want to disturb you, i'm keith hernandez and i just want to tell you what a big fan i am. i love your comedy. \n\njerry: really? \n\nkeith: i've always wanted to do what you do. \n\njerry: what i do? you are one of my favorite ball players of all time \n\ngeorge: mine too. \n\nkeith: i love that bit about jimmy olson \n\njerry: thank you. \n\ngeorge: you know keith, what i've always wondered, with all these ball clubs flying around all season don't you think there would be a plane crash? ... \n\nkeith: (to jerry) do you perform anywhere in new york right now? \n\njerry: i'm performing in this club on the east side. you should come in. \n\ngeorge: but if you think about it...26 teams, 162 games a season, you'd think eventually an entire team would get wiped out. \n\nkeith: you know, i live on the east side. \n\njerry: i'll tell you what, i'll give you my number and uh, just give me a call, tell me whenever you want to go. \n\nkeith: or maybe just to get together for a cup of coffee \n\njerry: oh. that would be great. \n\ngeorge: uh, it's only a matter of time. \n\nkeith: who's this chucker? \n\njerry: it's been three days and he hasn't called. \n\nelaine: well maybe you should call him. \n\njerry: i can't ... i can't \n\nelaine: why not? \n\njerry: i don't know. i just feel he should call me. \n\nelaine: what's the difference? \n\njerry: you don't understand, elaine. i don't want to be overanxious. if he wants to see me he has my number, he should call. \n\nelaine: yech, look at this ashtray. i hate cigarettes. \n\njerry: i can't stand these guys. you give your number to them and then they don't call. why do they do that? \n\nelaine: i'm sorry honey. \n\njerry: i mean, i thought he liked me. i really thought he liked me. we were getting along. he came over to me i didn't go over to him. \n\nelaine: no, \n\njerry: why did he come over to me if he didn't want to see me? \n\nelaine: i know. \n\njerry: what did he come over to me if he didn't want to see me? i mean here i meet this guy this great guy, a baseball player, best guy i ever met in my life. .. well that's it. i'm never giving my number out to another guy again. \n\nelaine: sometimes i've given my number out to guys and it takes them a month to call. \n\njerry: hu, good, good,... well if he's calling in a month he's got a prayer! \n\nelaine: you know maybe he's been busy. maybe he's been out of town? \n\njerry: oh, they don't have phones out of town? why do(?) people say they're too busy. too busy. pick up a phone!! it takes two minutes. how can you be too busy? \n\nelaine: why don't you just go ahead and call him? \n\njerry: i can't call here, it's a coffee shop. i mean what am i going to say to him? \n\nelaine: just ask him if he wants a to get together. \n\njerry: for what dinner? \n\nelaine: dinner's good. \n\njerry: don't you think that's coming on a little too strong? .. isn't that like a turn off? \n\nelaine: jerry, he's a guy! \n\njerry: ... this is all .. very confusing. \n\nmrs. sokol: you know you only have two more weeks before your benefits run out. \n\ngeorge: yes and i was hoping ... to get a thirteen week extension. \n\nmrs. sokol: so where have you been looking for work? \n\ngeorge: well you know what i've discovered mrs. sokol. it's not so much the looking as the listening. i listen for work. and as i'm looking and listening i am also looking. you can't discount looking. it's sort of a combination. it's looking, and listening, listening and looking. but you must look. \n\nmrs. sokol: can you be specific about any of these companies? \n\ngeorge: specific, ah, lets see. i've walked in and out of so many buildings they all .. blend in together, i uh, .. \n\nmrs. sokol: well just give me one name. \n\ngeorge: absolutely, uh, lets see there's, uh, vandelay industries, i just saw them. i got very close there. very close. \n\nmrs. sokol: and what type of company is that? \n\ngeorge: latex, latex manufacturing \n\nmrs. sokol: and you interviewed there? \n\ngeorge: yes, for a sales position. latex salesman, the selling of latex, and latex related products. they just wouldn't give me a chance. \n\nmrs. sokol: i'm going to need an address and a phone number for this uh, vandelay company... \n\ngoerge: you like gum? 'cause i have a friend in the gum business. i got a gum guy. i make one phone call. i got boxes of delivered right to your door. \n\nmrs. sokol: the address! \n\ngeorge: yyyddsshe(?) ... jose jimenez. you recognize it? \n\nmrs. sokol: no. \n\ngeorge: jose jimenez, ... verrry funny. ..very funny. \n\nmrs. sokol: the address! \n\ngeorge: uh, uh, vandelay industries, is uh. 129 west 81st street. it's a very small industry vandelay. it's one of the reasons i wanted to uh, work for them. \n\nmrs. sokol: the phone number. \n\ngeorge: that's uh, kl5-8383. are you calling them soon because, they keep very strange hours. \n\nmrs. sokol: as soon as i'm done wit you! \n\ngeorge: sure, well uh, you know i'll check in with you next week uh, i gotta run now because i got a full plate this afternoon. all right, really go to uh,. \n\ngeorge: (frantically, takes phone and screams...) he'll call you back. \n\nkramer: (loungingly talking on phone) it's a par five. so you know i step up to the tee and i hit a beautiful drive right down the middle of the fairway. i mean you know my hook, right? \n\njerry: elaine, how about this shirt? is this okay? \n\nelaine: jerry, ... he's a guy! \n\nkramer: well it's a dog leg left, so i play the hook right? .. hold on there's another call. \n\ngeorge: (frantically) jerry, jerry? \n\nkramer: george? \n\ngeorge: kramer put jerry on the phone. \n\nkramer: (angrily) yeah, look i'm in the middle of something. call back. \n\ngeorge: kramer!! kramer no!! \n\nkramer: ... so the ball takes of and i'm waiting for it to turn. \n\ngeorge: hitting phone \n\nkramer: yeah, i'll talk to jerry. yeah, [hangs up] . . . you know that was michael and carol. she's wondering when we're going to come over and see the baby. \n\njerry: oh, see the baby again with the baby.. \n\nelaine: who are they? \n\njerry: uh, he's this guy who used to live in the building and they keep calling us to see the baby. \n\njerry: (imitates) ya' gotta see the babi - when are ya' gonna see the babi... can't they just send us a tape? \n\nelaine: you know if you waited a few more months it won't be a baby anymore then you wouldn't have to see it. \n\njerry: uh uh because then it would be all grown up. \n\nelaine: yeah ha ha ha \n\njerry: hey kramer what do you think of this shirt? \n\nkramer: (does a double take) it's too busy \n\nelaine: it looks like you're trying too hard to make an impression on him. you're not being yourself. \n\nkramer: what guy? \n\njerry: i know he's just a guy but .. i like him. \n\nkramer: who are you talkin about? \n\njerry: uh, keith uh hernandez. \n\nkramer: keith hernandez? \n\nnewman: (enters) keith hernandez? \n\ngeorge: do me a favor would you? would you change lanes? would you get outta this lane. you gotta get out of this lane. this lane stinks. they're all double parked here please get outta this lane. i'm beggin you please please. \n\ngeorge: you know what, bad mistake my mistake do me a favor go back to the other lane - you'll never get there - forget this lane - y'a kn ow what this lane stinks - go back to the other lane - bad decision - go go go take this light - take this light - \n\ncabby: that's it get out!! \n\ngeorge: get out? \n\ncabby: get out of my cab. \n\ngeorge: wa, i'm not getting out of this cab \n\ngeorge: no, no! you can't throw me out \n\njerry: hellooo newman. \n\nkramer: i hate keith hernandez - hate him. \n\nnewman: i despise him. \n\nelaine: why? \n\nnewman: why? i'll tell you why... \n\nkramer: let me tell it .. \n\nnewman: no, you can't tell it .. \n\nkramer: you always tell it .. \n\nnewman: all right, tell it. \n\nkramer: ja ja ja - just tell it \n\nnewman: june 14, 1987.... mets phillies. we're enjoying a beautiful afternoon in the right field stands when a crucial hernandez error to a five run phillies ninth. cost the mets the game. \n\nkramer: our day was ruined. there was a lot of people, you know, they were waiting by the player's parking lot. now we're coming down the ramp ... [cut to film of the day - like the zabruter film - with the umbrella man and everything - oh so brilliant parody!!!] ... newman was in front of me. keith was coming toward us, as he passes newman turns and says, \" nice game pretty boy.\". keith continued past us up the ramp. \n\nnewman: a second later, something happened that changed us in a deep and profound way front that day forward. \n\nelaine: what was it? \n\nkramer: he spit on us.... and i screamed out, \"i'm hit!\" \n\nnewman: then i turned and the spit ricochet of him and it hit me. \n\nelaine: wow! what a story. \n\njerry: unfortunately the immutable laws of physics contradict the whole premise of your account. allow me to reconstruct this if i may for miss benes as i've heard this story a number of times. \n\njerry: newman, kramer, if you'll indulge me. according to your story keith passes you and starts walking up the ramp then you say you were struck on the right temple. the spit then proceeds to ricochet off the temple striking newman between the third and forth rib. the spit then cam off the rib turned and hit newman in the right wrist causing him to drop his baseball cap. the spit then splashed off the wrist, pauses in mid air mind you- makes a left turn and lands on newman's left thigh. that is one magic luggie. \n\nnewman: well that's the way it happened. \n\njerry: what happened to your head when you got hit? \n\nkramer: well. uh, well my head went back and to the left \n\njerry: again \n\nkramer: back and to the left \n\njerry: back and to the left back and to the left \n\nelaine: so, what are you saying? \n\njerry: i am saying that the spit could not have come from behind ... that there had to have been a second spitter behind the bushes on the gravelly road. if the spitter was behind you as you claimed that would have caused your head to pitch forward. \n\nelaine: so the spit could have only come from the front and to the right. \n\njerry: but that is not what they would have you believe. \n\nnewman: i'm leavin'. jerry's a nut. (exits) \n\nkramer: wait, wait, (exits) \n\njerry: the sad thing is we may never know the real truth. \n\ngeorge: (frantically) did anybody call here asking for vandelay industries? \n\njerry: no. what happened to you? \n\ngeorge: now, listen closely. i was at the unemployment office and i told them that i was very close to getting a job with vandelay industries and i gave them your phone number. so, when now when the phone rings you've got to answer \"vandelay industries\". \n\njerry: i'm vandelay industries? \n\ngeorge: right. \n\njerry: and what is that? \n\ngeorge: you're in latex \n\njerry: latex? and what do i do with latex? \n\ngeorge: ya manufacture it. \n\nelaine: here in this little apartment? \n\njerry: and what do i say about you? \n\ngeorge: you're considering hiring me for your latex salesman. \n\njerry: i'm going to hire you as my latex salesman? \n\ngeorge: right. \n\njerry: i don't think so. why would i do that? \n\ngeorge: because i asked you to. \n\njerry: if you think i'm looking for someone to just sit at a desk pushing papers around, you can forget it. i have enough headaches just trying to manufacture the stuff. \n\njerry: yeah. \n\nkramer: it's keith. \n\njerry: all right we're coming down. \n\ngeorge: keith hernandez? \n\njerry: yeah, come on elaine, lets go. \n\ngeorge: where are you goin? \n\nelaine: he's giving me a ride you know there had to have been a second spitter. but who was it? who had the motive? \n\njerry: that's what i've been trying to figure out the past five years. \n\ngeorge: what the hell are you two talking about? (all exit) \n\njerry: well that was really fun, thanks. \n\nkeith: yeah, it really was. \n\njerry(mind): should i shake his hand? \n\njerry: well, ... \n\nkeith: uh, do you want to catch a movie this weekend? have you seen jfk? \n\njerry: no, i haven't. \n\njerry(mind): this weekend. wow! \n\njerry: sure, that would be great. \n\njerry(mind): damn, i was too overanxious, he must have noticed that. \n\njerry: i mean, ... if you want to. \n\nkeith: well, how about this friday? \n\njerry: yeah, friday's okay. \n\njerry(mind): go ahead shake his hand. you're jerry seinfeld. you've been on the tonight show. \n\njerry: well, good night [holds hand out and shakes hand] \n\nkeith: goodnight. oh, jer, by the way, the woman we gave a ride to earlier tonight, \n\njerry: elaine? \n\nkeith: yeah. what's her story? \n\njerry: uh, i don't know, we used to go out. \n\nkeith: would you mind if i gave her a call? \n\njerry: for a date? \n\nkeith: yeah. \n\njerry: oh, no, uh, go ahead. you got a pen? \n\nkeith: you sure you don't mind? \n\njerry: .... (silence) \n\njerry: so then we went to dinner. \n\ngeorge: who paid? \n\njerry: we split it. \n\ngeorge: split it. pretty good. talk about game six? \n\njerry: naw, i gotta wait until its just the right time. \n\njerry: yeah \n\nelaine: it's elaine. \n\njerry: come on up. \n\ngeorge: so then what? \n\njerry: uh, nuthin'. then he took me home. \n\ngeorge: shake his hand? \n\njerry: (smiling) yeah \n\ngeorge: what kind of a shake does he have? \n\njerry: good shake. perfect shake. single pump, not too hard, you know, doesn't have to prove anything, but, you know, firm enough to know he was there. \n\ngeorge: so, uh, you gonna see him again? \n\njerry: he asked me if i was doing anything friday night. \n\ngeorge: wow! the weekend. \n\njerry: so then as i was getting out of the car, ... \n\nelaine: hi \n\njerry: hi elaine. \n\nelaine: sooo, how was your date? \n\njerry: what date? it's a guy. \n\nelaine: so you know , ... he called me. \n\njerry: already? \n\ngeorge: keith called you? \n\ngeorge: he he this guy really gets around. \n\nelaine: do you mind? \n\njerry: i don't mind at all. why should i mind? what did he say? \n\nelaine: he asked me out for saturday night. \n\njerry: oh, ya' going? \n\nelaine: i told him i was busy. \n\njerry: ah, really. \n\nelaine: so, we're going out friday. \n\njerry: friday? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\njerry: he's going' out with you on friday? \n\nelaine: yeah. \n\njerry: he's supposed to see me on friday. \n\nelaine: oh, uh, i didn't know. \n\njerry: we made plans. \n\nelaine: well, uh, i'll cancel it. \n\njerry: no, don't cancel it. \n\nelaine: huh. well this is a little awkward, isn't it/ \n\njerry: well, frankly it is. \n\nelaine: i've never seen you jealous before. \n\njerry: well you're not even a fan. i was at game six - you didn't even watch it. \n\nelaine: wait a second wait a minute, you jealous of him or you jealous of me? \n\njerry: any hennigans around here? \n\njerry: vandelay industries, kel varnsen speaking. may we help you? ... oh hi keith. na, i was just jokin' around \n\njerry: no. no. i don't mind at all. \n\nelaine: (quietly) no, no, no, i can cancel. \n\njerry: sure, we can do something next week. \n\nelaine: (quietly) i can cancel. \n\njerry: no, its no problem at all. \n\nelaine: (quietly) i,... \n\njerry: okay, take it easy. (hangs up) that was keith. we're going to do something next week. \n\nkramer: hey \n\njerry: hey what are you doing friday night? \n\njerry: friday night? nothin', ... now. \n\nkramer: okay, wanna come with me and see the baby? \n\njerry: fasten your seat belts. we're goin' to see the baby. \n\nkramer: come on, if you don't see the baby now you're never gonna see it \n\njerry: all right, i'll go \n\nkramer: all right \n\nkramer: yallo. what delay industries? \n\nelaine: no no , .. \n\ngeorge: (from bathroom) vandelay, say vandelay! \n\nkramer: na, you're way way way off.. well, yeah that's the right number but this is an apartment \n\ngeorge: (from bathroom) vandelay, say vandel... (george falls) ... vandelay industries, ... \n\nkramer: no problem, ... no problem. [hangs up] ... how did you know who that was? \n\njerry: and you want to be my latex salesman. \n\nmrs. sokol: just sign here please. \n\ngeorge: i know who it was too. it was the guy who interviewed me. he was very threatened by me. why else wouldn't he hire me? i could sell latex like that (snaps fingers). \n\nmrs. sokol: sign that. \n\ngeorge: who is this? (sees photo) \n\nmrs. sokol: it's my daughta' \n\ngeorge: this is your daughter? my god! my god! i i hope you don't mind my saying. she is breathtaking. \n\nmrs. sokol: ya' think so? \n\ngeorge: ah, would you take this picture away from me. take it away and get it outta here. let me just sign this and go. \n\nmrs. sokol: you know she doesn't even have a boyfriend. \n\ngeorge: okay, okay. who do you think you're talking to? what are ya' you trying to make a joke, because it's not funny. i can tell you that. \n\nmrs. sokol: i'm serious. \n\ngeorge: it's one think to not give me the extension but to tease and to torture me like this. there's no call for that. \n\nmrs. sokol: would you like her phone numba'? \n\nmrs. sokol: mrs. sokol i, i don't know what to say. i, uh, where should i sign this thing? \n\nmrs. sokol: no no no, don't worry about it. \n\nelaine: so tell me more about this game six. \n\nkeith: well, there was two outs, bottom of the tenth, we're one out away from losing the series. \n\nelaine: ooooh ahhh \n\nkramer: (to baby) koochie koochie koochie koo \n\njerry: (to baby) hello. how are you/ \n\ncarol: so, wadda ya' think? do you love her? \n\njerry: yes. i do love her. (to baby) you have a very nice place here. \n\ncarol: so how do you think she looks like? \n\nkramer: lyndon johnson. \n\ncarol: what? lyndon johnson? \n\njerry: he's joking. \n\nkramer: i'm not joking. she looks like lyndon johnson. \n\ncarol: jerry, i can't believe it took you so long to come see the baby. i kept saying to michael, \"when is jerry going to see the baby?\" \n\njerry: i was saying the same thing. \n\ncarol: let's take a picture. michael, get the camera. \n\njerry: uh, you don't have to take a picture. \n\nmike: i don't know where it is. \n\ncarol: it's in the bottom draw' of are dressa'. hurry up! he's such an idiot. \n\njerry: jerry, you want to pick her up? \n\njerry: i better not. \n\nkramer: i'll pick her up. \n\ncarrie: thank you for a wonderful time george. \n\ngeorge: glad you enjoyed it. \n\ncarrie: i haven't had a big mac in a long time. \n\ngeorge: millions and millions \n\ncarrie: would you like to come up? \n\ngeorge: [pause] would i like to come up? i would love to come up. i, i'm fighting not to. fighting! unfortunately i uh have to get an early start tomorrow. gotta' get up and hit that pavement \n\ncarrie: but it's saturday. all the offices are closed. \n\ngeorge: i got me an appointment with a hardware store. i'm not saying i want to do it for the rest of my life, but, uh, hardware fascinates me. don't you love to make a key? \n\ncarrie: will you call me as soon as you get home? \n\ngeorge: [pause] tonight? \n\ncarrie: yes. \n\ngeorge: will i call you when i get home? ha ha what do you think? ee, you kill me kill me \n\ncarrie: well. good night.[puckers up] \n\nkramer: well it was an accident. right jerry it was an accident. ah, she's going to be all right. .. baby, baby, ah, baby. \n\nelaine: well, thanks for a nice evening. it was really fun. \n\nkeith: yeah, it was. [mind] gosh, should i kiss her good night? \n\nelaine: [mind] is he going to try to kiss me? \n\nelaine: i love cajun cooking. \n\nkeith: really, you know my mom's one quarter cajun. \n\nelaine: uh, my father's half drunk. ha ha ha ha \n\nkeith: maybe they should get together. [mind] go ahead. kiss her. i'm a baseball player dammit. \n\nelaine: [mind] what's he waiting for? i thought he was a cool guy. \n\nkeith: [mind] come on i won the mvp in 79. i can do whatever i want to. \n\nelaine: [mind] this is getting awkward. \n\nkeith: well, goodnight \n\nelaine: good night \n\nelaine: [mind] who does this guy think he is? \n\nkeith: [mind] i'm keith hernandez. \n\nelaine: uh, who else? mookie. mookie was there. do you know him? \n\njerry: i don't know him. i know who he is. \n\nelaine: hum, he's such a great guy. you should meet him. you know he's the one who got that hit \n\njerry: i know. he got the hit in game six. so, so then what happened? \n\nelaine: nuthin'. then he took me home. \n\njerry: so, did you two, uh, have uh, \n\nelaine: what?! \n\njerry: you know \n\nelaine: milk? \n\njerry: no! \n\nelaine: cookies? \n\njerry: did he kiss you good night? \n\nelaine: i dunno. \n\njerry: what do you mean you don't know? \n\nelaine: all right. he kissed me. okay? \n\njerry: well, what kind of a kiss? was it a peck? was it a kiss? was it a long make out thing? \n\nelaine: between a peck and a make out. \n\njerry: so, you like him. \n\nelaine: i don't understand. before you were jealous of me. now you're jealous of him? \n\njerry: ah, i'm jealous of everybody. \n\njerry: hello. oh, hi. what's happening? what? oh um, sure, um, yeah, okay, uh. i'll see you then. yeah, yeah, bye. \n\nelaine: who was that? \n\njerry: that was keith. \n\nelaine: what's going on? \n\njerry: he wants me to help him move. \n\nelaine: help him move? move what? \n\njerry: you know, furniture. \n\nelaine: so, what did you say? \n\njerry: i said yes, but i don't feel right about it. i mean i hardly know the guy. that's a big step oin a relationship. the biggest. that's like going all the way. \n\nelaine: and you feel you're not really ready for, \n\njerry: well we went out one time. don't you think that's coming on a little too strong? \n\nkramer: what's going on? \n\njerry: keith hernandez just asked me to help him move. \n\nkramer: what? well, you hardly know the guy. what a nerve. you see wasn't i right about this guy? didn't i tell you? now, you're not going to do it are you? \n\njerry: i said yes. \n\nkramer: you said yes!? don't you have any pride or self respect? i mean, how can you prostitute yourself like this? i mean what are you going to do? you're going to start driving him to the airport? \n\njerry: i'm not driving him to the airport! .. \n\nkramer: yeah yeah \n\njerry: hey kramer do me a favour . \n\nkramer: what? \n\njerry: don't mention it to anybody. \n\nkramer: i wish you never mentioned it to me. [exits] \n\ngeorge: i had a great time tonight carrie. and i am going to call you as soon as i get home. \n\ncarrie: don't bottha \n\ngeorge: bother, wa', what kind of bother? \n\ncarrie: i would prefa' it if ya' didn'. \n\ngeorge: why? is there anything wrong? \n\ncarrie: it's over buddy. done. finished. so long. good bye. adios. sayanara. \n\ngeorge: why? \n\ncarrie: i bin thinkin about it. you got no job. you got no prospects. you're like biff loman. \n\ngeorge: i went to the hardware store interview. \n\ncarrie: you think i'm going to spend my life with somebody because he can get me a deal on a box of nails? \n\ngeorge: i thought were a team. \n\ncarrie: if i ever need a drill bit i'll call you. (exits car) \n\ngeorge: carrie, could you do me a favour? could you not mention this to your mother? \n\nkramer: ya know i hate to brag but, uh, i did win eleven straight golden gloves. \n\nelaine: (chuckles) \n\nkramer: i wouldn't have brought it up but since you mentioned it. \n\nelaine: ha, i didn't mention it. \n\nkramer: well i won them anyway. \n\nelaine: well so what. i mean you played first base. i mean they always put the worst player on first base. that's were they put me and i stunk. \n\nkramer: elaine. you don't know the first thing about first base. \n\nelaine: ha ha well i know something about getting to first base. and i know you'll never be there. \n\nkramer: the way i figure it i've already been there and i plan on rounding second tonight at around eleven o'clock. \n\nelaine: well, uh, i'd watch the third base coach if i were you 'cause i don't think he's waving you in. you know i hate to say this but i think we're really hitting it off. get it? get it? \n\nkramer: funny. \n\nelaine: what are you doing? \n\nkramer: what's that? \n\nelaine: you smoke? \n\nkramer: yeah. \n\nelaine: i didn't know you smoked. \n\nkramer: is that a problem? \n\nelaine: uh, \n\njerry: she likes him i mean she really likes him. \n\ngeorge: how do you kn ow? \n\njerry: who wouldn't like him? i like him. and i'm a guy. \n\ngeorge: i suppose he's an attractive man, i , \n\njerry: forget that. he's a ball player. mvp< 1979. i'm making wise cracks in some night club. this guy was in game six. they're a perfect match. they like go together. they're like one of these brother and sister couples that look alike. \n\ngeorge: hate those couples. i could never bee one of those couples. there are no bald woman around. you know? \n\njerry: you know i know this sounds a little arrogant but i never thought she would find anyone she would like better than me. ya know, i guess i had my chance and that's that. \n\ngeorge: you know what i would like to do? i would really like to have sex with a tall woman. i mean really tall. like a like a giant like six five. \n\njerry: really? \n\ngeorge: what was the tallest woman you ever slept with? \n\njerry: i don't know six three. \n\ngeorge: wow, god! you see this is all i think about. sleeping with a giant. it's my life's ambition. \n\njerry: so i guess it's fair to say you've set different goals for yourself than say, thomas edison, magellan, these types of people. \n\ngeorge: magellan? you like magellan? \n\njerry: oh, yeah,. my favourite explorer. around the world. come on. \n\ngeorge: who do you like? \n\ngeorge: i like desoto. \n\njerry: desoto? what did he do? \n\ngeorge: discovered the mississippi. \n\njerry: oh. like they wouldn't have found that anyway. \n\ngeorge: all right, i've got to go down to the unemployment office. wanna take a walk? \n\njerry: no i can't i've got some stuff to do then i've got to meet keith at my apartment at three. i'm helping him move. \n\ngeorge: what? the guy asked you to help him move? wow. \n\njerry: i know isn't that something? \n\nkramer: he's got money. why doesn't he just pay a mover? \n\njerry: i don't know he's got some valuable antiques, he's worried they'll break something. \n\ngeorge: the next thing you know, he'll have you driving him to the airport.. \n\njerry: i'm not driving him to the airport!! \n\ngeorge: i gave. i gave everything i could mrs. sokol. but nothing was good enough for her. \n\nmrs. sokol: sign here please. \n\ngeorge: ha, i don't know who she's looking for. i don't know. i'll tell you something. she's very particular, your daughter. very particular. what is she looking for some big hot shot businessman? well i've got my pride too. i'm not going to beg her. \n\nmrs. sokol: all right just sign it. people are waiting. \n\ngeorge: you, uh, you like baseball? [picks up baseball from desk] \n\nmrs. sokol: that was autographed by the '86 mets. i saw every inning that year. \n\ngeorge: funny, cause i happen to be very good friends with keith hernandez. \n\nmrs. sokol: you know keith hernandez. \n\ngeorge: know him? would you, uh, like to meet him? \n\nmrs. sokol: oh, come on. come on. \n\ngeorge: i can produce keith hernandez right here within the hour. \n\nmrs. sokol: all right. you got one hour. \n\ngeorge: all right mrs. s. i and my good pal keith hernandez will be right back. \n\ngeorge: 129 west 81st street and hurry. \n\ngeorge: goodbye (exits cab) \n\nkeith: better bring your gloves, it's freezing out there. it shouldn't take too long. i'd say maybe, oh, four hours. really though, jerry, there's not that much. first we got the bedroom, we got two dressers and the bed. \n\njerry: is there a box spring? \n\nkeith: what's that? \n\njerry: is there a box spring? \n\nkeith: yeah there's a box spring but it's attached to the headboard and we'll have to take that apart. then we got the couch. \n\njerry: is that a sectional? \n\nkeith: yeah. twelve pieces. Be sure keras with tensorflow installed\n!conda install -c conda-forge keras
!pip install git+https://github.com/qubvel/efficientnet\n!pip install git+https://github.com/qubvel/classification_models.git\n!pip install git+https://github.com/qubvel/segmentation_models\n!pip install -U git+https://github.com/albu/albumentations\n!pip install tta-wrapper\n
from keras.utils import Sequence\nfrom skimage.io import imread\nimport os\nimport matplotlib.pyplot as plt\nfrom sklearn.utils import shuffle\nimport tensorflow as tf\n\ntf.logging.set_verbosity(tf.logging.ERROR)\n%load_ext autoreload\n%autoreload 2\n%matplotlib inline\nfrom albumentations import (Blur, Compose, HorizontalFlip, HueSaturationValue,\n IAAEmboss, IAASharpen, JpegCompression, OneOf,\n RandomBrightness, RandomBrightnessContrast,\n RandomContrast, RandomCrop, RandomGamma,\n RandomRotate90, RGBShift, ShiftScaleRotate,\n Transpose, VerticalFlip, ElasticTransform, GridDistortion, OpticalDistortion)\n \nimport albumentations as albu\nfrom albumentations import Resize\n\nclass DataGeneratorFolder(Sequence):\n def __init__(self, root_dir=r'../data/val_test', image_folder='img/', mask_folder='masks/', \n batch_size=1, image_size=768, nb_y_features=1, \n augmentation=None,\n suffle=True):\n self.image_filenames = listdir_fullpath(os.path.join(root_dir, image_folder))\n self.mask_names = listdir_fullpath(os.path.join(root_dir, mask_folder))\n self.batch_size = batch_size\n self.currentIndex = 0\n self.augmentation = augmentation\n self.image_size = image_size\n self.nb_y_features = nb_y_features\n self.indexes = None\n self.suffle = suffle\n \n def __len__(self):\n """\n Calculates size of batch\n """\n return int(np.ceil(len(self.image_filenames) / (self.batch_size)))\n\n def on_epoch_end(self):\n """Updates indexes after each epoch"""\n if self.suffle==True:\n self.image_filenames, self.mask_names = shuffle(self.image_filenames, self.mask_names)\n \n def read_image_mask(self, image_name, mask_name):\n return imread(image_name)/255, (imread(mask_name, as_gray=True) > 0).astype(np.int8)\n\n def __getitem__(self, index):\n """\n Generate one batch of data\n \n """\n # Generate indexes of the batch\n data_index_min = int(index*self.batch_size)\n data_index_max = int(min((index+1)*self.batch_size, len(self.image_filenames)))\n \n indexes = self.image_filenames[data_index_min:data_index_max]\n\n this_batch_size = len(indexes) # The last batch can be smaller than the others\n \n # Defining dataset\n X = np.empty((this_batch_size, self.image_size, self.image_size, 3), dtype=np.float32)\n y = np.empty((this_batch_size, self.image_size, self.image_size, self.nb_y_features), dtype=np.uint8)\n\n for i, sample_index in enumerate(indexes):\n\n X_sample, y_sample = self.read_image_mask(self.image_filenames[index * self.batch_size + i], \n self.mask_names[index * self.batch_size + i])\n \n # if augmentation is defined, we assume its a train set\n if self.augmentation is not None:\n \n # Augmentation code\n augmented = self.augmentation(self.image_size)(image=X_sample, mask=y_sample)\n image_augm = augmented['image']\n mask_augm = augmented['mask'].reshape(self.image_size, self.image_size, self.nb_y_features)\n X[i, ...] = np.clip(image_augm, a_min = 0, a_max=1)\n y[i, ...] = mask_augm\n \n # if augmentation isnt defined, we assume its a test set. \n # Because test images can have different sizes we resize it to be divisable by 32\n elif self.augmentation is None and self.batch_size ==1:\n X_sample, y_sample = self.read_image_mask(self.image_filenames[index * 1 + i], \n self.mask_names[index * 1 + i])\n augmented = Resize(height=(X_sample.shape[0]//32)*32, width=(X_sample.shape[1]//32)*32)(image = X_sample, mask = y_sample)\n X_sample, y_sample = augmented['image'], augmented['mask']\n\n return X_sample.reshape(1, X_sample.shape[0], X_sample.shape[1], 3).astype(np.float32),\\\n y_sample.reshape(1, X_sample.shape[0], X_sample.shape[1], self.nb_y_features).astype(np.uint8)\n\n return X, y\n
def aug_with_crop(image_size = 256, crop_prob = 1):\n return Compose([\n RandomCrop(width = image_size, height = image_size, p=crop_prob),\n HorizontalFlip(p=0.5),\n VerticalFlip(p=0.5),\n RandomRotate90(p=0.5),\n Transpose(p=0.5),\n ShiftScaleRotate(shift_limit=0.01, scale_limit=0.04, rotate_limit=0, p=0.25),\n RandomBrightnessContrast(p=0.5),\n RandomGamma(p=0.25),\n IAAEmboss(p=0.25),\n Blur(p=0.01, blur_limit = 3),\n OneOf([\n ElasticTransform(p=0.5, alpha=120, sigma=120 * 0.05, alpha_affine=120 * 0.03),\n GridDistortion(p=0.5),\n OpticalDistortion(p=1, distort_limit=2, shift_limit=0.5) \n ], p=0.8)\n ], p = 1)\n\ntest_generator = DataGeneratorFolder(root_dir = './data/road_segmentation_ideal/training',\n image_folder = 'input/', \n mask_folder = 'output/',\n batch_size = 1,\n nb_y_features = 1, augmentation = aug_with_crop)\nXtest, ytest = test_generator.__getitem__(0)\nplt.imshow(Xtest[0]) \nplt.show()\nplt.imshow(ytest[0, :,:,0])\nplt.show() \n
# setting generators\ntest_generator = DataGeneratorFolder(root_dir = './data/road_segmentation_ideal/training', \n image_folder = 'input/', \n mask_folder = 'output/', \n batch_size=1,\n nb_y_features = 1, augmentation = False)\n\ntrain_generator = DataGeneratorFolder(root_dir = './data/road_segmentation_ideal/training', \n image_folder = 'input/', \n mask_folder = 'output/', \n augmentation = aug_with_crop,\n batch_size=4,\n image_size=512,\n nb_y_features = 1, augmentation = True)\n
from keras.callbacks import ModelCheckpoint, ReduceLROnPlateau, EarlyStopping, TensorBoard\n\n# reduces learning rate on plateau\nlr_reducer = ReduceLROnPlateau(factor=0.1,\n cooldown= 10,\n patience=10,verbose =1,\n min_lr=0.1e-5)\nmode_autosave = ModelCheckpoint("./weights/road_crop.efficientnetb0imgsize.h5",monitor='val_iou_score', \n mode = 'max', save_best_only=True, verbose=1, period =10)\n\n# stop learining as metric on validatopn stop increasing\nearly_stopping = EarlyStopping(patience=10, verbose=1, mode = 'auto') \n\n# tensorboard for monitoring logs\ntensorboard = TensorBoard(log_dir='./logs/tenboard', histogram_freq=0,\n write_graph=True, write_images=False)\n\ncallbacks = [mode_autosave, lr_reducer, tensorboard, early_stopping]\n
from segmentation_models import Unet\nfrom keras.optimizers import Adam\nfrom segmentation_models.losses import bce_jaccard_loss, bce_dice_loss\nfrom segmentation_models.metrics import iou_score\n\ndef plot_training_history(history):\n """\n Plots model training history \n """\n fig, (ax_loss, ax_acc) = plt.subplots(1, 2, figsize=(15,5))\n ax_loss.plot(history.epoch, history.history["loss"], label="Train loss")\n ax_loss.plot(history.epoch, history.history["val_loss"], label="Validation loss")\n ax_loss.legend()\n ax_acc.plot(history.epoch, history.history["iou_score"], label="Train iou")\n ax_acc.plot(history.epoch, history.history["val_iou_score"], label="Validation iou")\n ax_acc.legend()\n \nmodel = Unet(backbone_name = 'efficientnetb0', encoder_weights='imagenet', encoder_freeze = False)\nmodel.compile(optimizer = Adam(),\n loss=bce_jaccard_loss, metrics=[iou_score])\n\nhistory = model.fit_generator(train_generator, shuffle =True,\n epochs=50, workers=4, use_multiprocessing=True,\n validation_data = test_generator, \n verbose = 1, callbacks=callbacks)\n#plotting history\nplot_training_history(history)\n
def iou_metric(y_true_in, y_pred_in):\n labels = y_true_in\n y_pred = y_pred_in\n\n temp1 = np.histogram2d(labels.flatten(), y_pred.flatten(), bins=([0,0.5,1], [0,0.5, 1]))\n\n intersection = temp1[0]\n\n area_true = np.histogram(labels,bins=[0,0.5,1])[0]\n area_pred = np.histogram(y_pred, bins=[0,0.5,1])[0]\n area_true = np.expand_dims(area_true, -1)\n area_pred = np.expand_dims(area_pred, 0)\n\n # Compute union\n union = area_true + area_pred - intersection\n \n # Exclude background from the analysis\n intersection = intersection[1:,1:]\n intersection[intersection == 0] = 1e-9\n \n union = union[1:,1:]\n union[union == 0] = 1e-9\n\n iou = intersection / union\n return iou\n\ndef plot_mask_gt_image(mask, groud_truth, img):\n fig, axs = plt.subplots(1,3, figsize=(20,10))\n axs[0].imshow(mask, cmap="Blues")\n axs[1].imshow(groud_truth, cmap="Blues")\n axs[2].imshow(img)\n plt.show()\n \ndef iou_metric_batch(y_true_in, y_pred_in):\n y_pred_in = y_pred_in\n batch_size = y_true_in.shape[0]\n metric = []\n for batch in range(batch_size):\n value = iou_metric(y_true_in[batch], y_pred_in[batch])\n metric.append(value)\n return np.mean(metric)\n\n# to get single image and prediction quality\nXtest, y_test = test_generator.__getitem__(1)\npredicted = model.predict(np.expand_dims(Xtest[0], axis=0)).reshape(1472, 1472)\nprint('IOU', iou_metric(y_test[0].reshape(1472, 1472), predicted)) \n
plot_mask_gt_image(predicted, y_test.squeeze(0).squeeze(-1),\\\n Xtest.squeeze(0))\n
scores = model.evaluate_generator(test_generator)\nmetrics=[iou_score]\nprint("Loss: {:.5}".format(scores[0]))\nfor metric, value in zip(metrics, scores[1:]):\n print("mean {}: {:.5}".format(metric.__name__, value)) \n
from tta_wrapper import tta_segmentation\nfrom keras.models import load_model\nmodel = load_model('./weights/road_crop.efficientnetb0imgsize.h5', \n custom_objects={'binary_crossentropy + jaccard_loss': bce_jaccard_loss,\n 'iou_score': iou_score})\ntta_model = tta_segmentation(model, h_flip=True, merge='mean')\n.compile(optimizer = Adam(), loss=bce_jaccard_loss, metrics=[iou_score])\nscores = tta_model.evaluate_generator(test_generator)\nmetrics=[iou_score]\nprint("Loss: {:.5}".format(scores[0]))\nfor metric, value in zip(metrics, scores[1:]):\n print("mean {}: {:.5}".format(metric.__name__, value)) \n
def draw_get_best_threshold(ious, thresholds):\n """\n Returns threshold_best, iou_best\n """\n threshold_best_index = np.argmax(ious) \n iou_best = ious[threshold_best_index]\n threshold_best = thresholds[threshold_best_index]\n\n plt.plot(thresholds, ious)\n plt.plot(threshold_best, iou_best, "xr", label="Best threshold")\n plt.xlabel("Threshold")\n plt.ylabel("IoU")\n plt.title("Threshold vs IoU ({}, {})".format(threshold_best, iou_best))\n plt.legend()\n return threshold_best, iou_best\n\npreds = []\ny_val = []\nfor i in (range(0,test_generator.__len__())):\n Xtest, y_test = test_generator.__getitem__(i)\n preds.append(tta_model.predict(Xtest).reshape(1472, 1472))\n y_val.append(y_test)\npreds = np.stack(preds, axis=0)\ny_val = np.stack(y_val, axis=0)\n\nthresholds = list(np.linspace(0.1, 0.9, 10))\nious = np.array([iou_metric_batch(y_val, np.int32(preds > threshold)) for threshold in (thresholds)])\n\nbest_threshold, best_iou = draw_get_best_threshold(ious, thresholds)\n
![\"Setoca](\"/static/setosa.jpg\")
'\n return str(predict) + img_path\n\n\n@app.route(\"/show_image\")\ndef show_image():\n print(\"image loaded\")\n return ''\n\n\n@app.route(\"/iris_post\", methods=[\"POST\"])\ndef add_message():\n try:\n content = request.get_json()\n params = content[\"flower\"].split(\",\")\n params = np.array([float(num) for num in params]).reshape(1, -1)\n\n print(\"Input params:\", params)\n predict = {\"class\": str(knn.predict(params)[0])}\n except:\n return redirect(url_for(\"bad_request\"))\n return jsonify(predict)\n\n\nfrom flask import abort\n\n\n@app.route(\"/badrequest400\")\ndef bad_request():\n abort(400)\n\n\nfrom flask_wtf import FlaskForm\nfrom wtforms import StringField, FileField\nfrom werkzeug.utils import secure_filename\nfrom wtforms.validators import DataRequired\nimport pandas as pd\n\nUPLOAD_FOLDER = \"\"\nALLOWED_EXTENSIONS = set([\"txt\", \"pdf\", \"png\", \"jpg\", \"jpeg\", \"gif\"])\napp.config.update(\n dict(SECRET_KEY=\"powerful secretkey\", WTF_CSRF_SECRET_KEY=\"a csrf secret key\")\n)\napp.config[\"UPLOAD_FOLDER\"] = UPLOAD_FOLDER\n\n\nclass MyForm(FlaskForm):\n name = StringField(\"name\", validators=[DataRequired()])\n file = FileField()\n\n\n@app.route(\"/submit\", methods=(\"GET\", \"POST\"))\ndef submit():\n form = MyForm()\n if form.validate_on_submit():\n\n f = form.file.data\n filename = form.name.data + \".csv\"\n # f.save(os.path.join(\n # filename\n # ))\n\n df = pd.read_csv(f, header=None)\n print(df.head())\n\n predict = knn.predict(df)\n\n result = pd.DataFrame(predict)\n result.to_csv(filename, index=False)\n\n return send_file(\n filename,\n mimetype=\"text/csv\",\n attachment_filename=filename,\n as_attachment=True,\n )\n\n return render_template(\"submit.html\", form=form)\n\n\ndef allowed_file(filename):\n return \".\" in filename and filename.rsplit(\".\", 1)[1].lower() in ALLOWED_EXTENSIONS\n\n\n@app.route(\"/upload\", methods=[\"GET\", \"POST\"])\ndef upload_file():\n if request.method == \"POST\":\n # check if the post request has the file part\n if \"file\" not in request.files:\n flash(\"No file part\")\n return redirect(request.url)\n file = request.files[\"file\"]\n # if user does not select file, browser also\n # submit an empty part without filename\n if file.filename == \"\":\n flash(\"No selected file\")\n return redirect(request.url)\n if file and allowed_file(file.filename):\n filename = secure_filename(file.filename)\n file.save(os.path.join(app.config[\"UPLOAD_FOLDER\"], filename))\n return \"file uploaded\"\n\n return \"\"\"\n \n