What is business? Business is merely a name--and if you should look into the depth, into the root of it--you'll find it is nothing but absurdity! Do I not understand it? I understand everything, I see everything, I feel everything! Only my tongue is dumb. What aim is there in business? Money? I have plenty of it! I could choke you to death with it, cover you with it. All this business is nothing but fraud. I meet business people--well, and what about them? Their greediness is immense, and yet they purposely whirl about in business that they might not see themselves. They hide themselves, the devils. Try to free them from this bustle--what will happen? Like blind men they will grope about hither and thither; they'll lose their mind--they'll go mad! I know it! Do you think that business brings happiness into man? No, that's not so--something else is missing here. This is not everything yet! The river flows that men may sail on it;the tree grows--to be useful; the dog--to guard the house. There is justification for everything in the world! And men, like cockroaches, are altogether superfluous on earth. Everything is for them, and they--what are they for? Aha! Wherein is their justification? Ha, ha, ha!"Foma was triumphant. It seemed to him that he had found something good for himself, something severe against men. And feeling that, because of this, there was great joy in him, he laughed loudly.
"Does not your head ache?" inquired Sasha, anxiously, scrutinizing his face.
"My soul aches!" exclaimed Foma, passionately. "And it aches because it is upright--because it is not to be satisfied with trifles. Answer it, how to live? To what purpose? There--take my godfather--he is wise! He says--create life! But he's the only one like this. Well, I'll ask him, wait! And everybody says--life has usurped us! Life has choked us. I shall ask these, too. And how can we create life? You must keep it in your hands to do this, you must be master over it. You cannot make even a pot, without taking the clay into your hands.""Listen!" said Sasha, seriously. "I think you ought to get married, that's all!""What for?" asked Foma, shrugging his shoulders.
"You need a bridle."
"All right! I am living with you--you are all of a kind, are you not? One is not sweeter than the other. I had one before you, of the same kind as you. No, but that one did it for love's sake.
She had taken a liking to me--and consented; she was good--but, otherwise, she was in every way the same as you--though you are prettier than she. But I took a liking to a certain lady--a lady of noble birth! They said she led a loose life, but I did not get her. Yes, she was clever, intelligent; she lived in luxury. Iused to think--that's where I'll taste the real thing! I did not get her--and, it may be, if I had succeeded, all would have taken a different turn. I yearned toward her. I thought--I could not tear myself away. While now that I have given myself to drink, I've drowned her in wine--I am forgetting her--and that also is wrong. 0 man! You are a rascal, to be frank."Foma became silent and sank into meditation. And Sasha rose from the bench and paced the hut to and fro, biting her lips. Then she stopped short before him, and, clasping her hands to her head, said:
"Do you know what? I'll leave you."
"Where will you go?" asked Foma, without lifting his head.
"I don't know--it's all the same!"
"But why?"
"You're always saying unnecessary things. It is lonesome with you. You make me sad."Foma lifted his head, looked at her and burst into mournful laughter.
"Really? Is it possible?"
"You do make me sad! Do you know? If I should reflect on it, Iwould understand what you say and why you say it--for I am also of that sort--when the time comes, I shall also think of all this. And then I shall be lost. But now it is too early for me.
No, I want to live yet, and then, later, come what will!""And I--will I, too, be lost?" asked Foma, indifferently, already fatigued by his words.
"Of course!" replied Sasha, calmly and confidently. "All such people are lost. He, whose character is inflexible, and who has no brains--what sort of a life is his? We are like this.""I have no character at all," said Foma, stretching himself. Then after a moment's silence he added:
"And I have no brains, either."
They were silent for a minute, eyeing each other.
"What are we going to do?" asked Foma.
"We must have dinner."
"No, I mean, in general? Afterward?"
"Afterward? I don't know?"
"So you are leaving me?"
"I am. Come, let's carouse some more before we part. Let's go to Kazan, and there we'll have a spree--smoke and flame! I'll sing your farewell song.""Very well," assented Foma. "It's quite proper at leave taking.
Eh, you devil! That's a merry life! Listen, Sasha. They say that women of your kind are greedy for money; are even thieves.""Let them say," said Sasha, calmly.
"Don't you feel offended?" asked Foma, with curiosity. "But you are not greedy. It's advantageous to you to be with me. I am rich, and yet you are going away; that shows you're not greedy.""I?" Sasha thought awhile and said with a wave of the hand:
