FÉDYA. No, it's most simple! You know, in the society in which I was born there are only three careers open to a man--only three. The first is to enter the civil or military service, to earn money and increase the abominations amid which we live. That was repulsive to me. Perhaps I had not the capacity for it; but above all it repelled me. Then the second is to destroy those abominations. To do that you must be a hero; and I am not a hero. And the third is to forget it all by going on the spree, drinking and singing. That is what I did. And this is what my singing has brought me to! [Drinks]. PETUSHKÓV. And what about family life? I should be happy if I had a wife. My wife ruined me. FÉDYA. Family life? Yes, my wife was an ideal woman. She is still living. But how shall I tell you? There was no yeast in it--you know, the yeast that makes the beer froth! Well, there was nothing of that in our life: it was flat, and I wanted something to help me to forget--and one can't forget when there's no sparkle in life. Then I began to do all sorts of nasty things. And you know, we love people for the good we do them, and dislike them for the harm we do them; and I did her much harm. She seemed to love me ... PETUSHKÓV. Why do you say "seemed"? FÉDYA. I say it because there was never anything about her that made her creep into my soul as Másha did. But that's not what I meant to say. When she was pregnant, or nursing her baby, I used to vanish, and come home drunk; and of course, just because of that, I loved her less and less. Yes, yes! [in ecstasy] I have it! The reason I love Másha is that I did her good and not harm. That's why I love her. The other one I tormented, and therefore I don't like her.... No, after all, I simply don't like her! Was I jealous? Yes, but that too is past.... Enter Artémyev, with a cockade on his cap, dyed moustaches, and old renovated clothes. ARTÉMYEV. Wish you a good appetite! [Bows to Fédya] I see you've made acquaintance with our painter, our artist. FÉDYA [coldly] Yes, we are acquainted. ARTÉMYEV [to Petushkóv] And have you finished the portrait? PETUSHKÓV. No, I lost the order. ARTÉMYEV [Sits down] I'm not in your way? Fédya and Petushkóv do not answer. PETUSHKÓV. Theodore Vasílyevich was telling me about his life. ARTÉMYEV. Secrets? Then I won't disturb you--go on? I'm sure I don't want you. Swine! [Goes to next table and calls for beer. He listens all the time to Fédya's conversation with Petushkóv, and leans towards them without their noticing it.] FÉDYA. I don't like that gentleman. PETUSHKÓV. He was offended. FÉDYA. Well, let him be! I can't stand him. He is such a fellow, my words won't come when he is there. Now with you I feel at ease, and comfortable. Well, what was I saying? PETUSHKÓV. You were speaking about your jealousy. And how was it you parted from your wife? FÉDYA. Ah! [Pauses and considers] It's a curious story. My wife is married ...