I had not gone mad at all, but anger had sprung up in me and was blazing
like a flame. I could listen to everything which the master said about
women; I could even take pleasure in it; I could ridicule them with
others. I could do that because I did not connect the words and the
ridicule with any one of my own, and because it did not even come to my
mind that the general theory was to be applied to persons dear to me.
But when I heard the name of my purest orphan bandied about frivolously
in that room, amid smoke, dirt, empty bottles, corks, and cynical
conversation, I thought that I had heard some abominable sacrilege, some
defilement, some wrong wrought against Hania, and from anger I almost
lost self-control.
Selim looked at me for a moment with astonishment, and then his face
began to grow dark quickly, his eyes shot sparks, on his forehead came
out knots of veins, his features extended and became sharp as those of a
real Tartar.
"Thou dost forbid me to say what I please?" cried he, in a deep voice,
broken by panting breath.
Luckily the master rushed between us at this moment.
"Ye are not worthy of the uniforms which ye wear! What is this? Ye will
fight, or pull each other by the ears, like school-boys? Yes,
philosophers who break glasses on each other's heads. Be ashamed of
yourselves! Ye are persons with whom to talk touching universal
questions! Be ashamed of yourselves! From the war of ideas to a war of
fists. Stop! But I will say that I proposed a toast in honor of
universities; and that ye are drones if ye will not make peace, and if
ye leave even a drop in the glasses."
We recovered. But Selim, though more drunk, recovered first.
"I implore thy pardon," said he, in a tender voice. "I am a fool."
We embraced heartily, and emptied the glasses to the bottom to the honor
of universities. Then our master intoned _Gaudeamus_. Through the glass
doors leading to the cellar, merchants began to look in. It was growing
dark outside. We were all what is called tipsy. Our joyfulness rose to
the zenith and then descended gradually. Our master was the first who
fell into meditation, and after a while he said,--
"All this is well, but, taking everything together, life is stupid.
These are all artificial means; but as to what happens in the soul, that
is another thing. To-morrow will be like to-day: the same misery, four
naked walls, the hay-loft, broken boots, and--so on without end. Labor
and labor, but happiness? A man deceives himself as best he can and
deadens-- Farewell!"
So saying, he put his cap with broken crown on his head, executed a few
mechanical motions which had for object the buttoning of his coat with
buttons which did not exist, lighted his cigarette, and waving his hand
said,--
"But do ye pay here, for I am naked, and be in good health. Ye may
remember me or not,--all one to me. I am not sentimental. Be in good
health, my honest boys--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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