father sergius-第8部分

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boots　creak　the　louder；　and　Father　Sergius　remained　alone。



His　whole　life　was　filled　by　Church　services　and　by　people　who

came　to　see　him；　but　to…day　had　been　a　particularly　difficult

one。　　In　the　morning　an　important　official　had　arrived　and　had

had　a　long　conversation　with　him；　after　that　a　lady　had　come　with

her　son。　　This　son　was　a　sceptical　young　professor　whom　the

mother；　an　ardent　believer　and　devoted　to　Father　Sergius；　had

brought　that　he　might　talk　to　him。　　The　conversation　had　been

very　trying。　　The　young　man；　evidently　not　wishing　to　have　a

controversy　with　a　monk；　had　agreed　with　him　in　everything　as

with　someone　who　was　mentally　inferior。　　Father　Sergius　saw　that

the　young　man　did　not　believe　but　yet　was　satisfied；　tranquil；

and　at　ease；　and　the　memory　of　that　conversation　now　disquieted

him。



'Have　something　to　eat；　Father；'　said　the　attendant。



'All　right；　bring　me　something。'



The　attendant　went　to　a　hut　that　had　been　arranged　some　ten　paces

from　the　cave；　and　Father　Sergius　remained　alone。



The　time　was　long　past　when　he　had　lived　alone　doing　everything

for　himself　and　eating　only　rye…bread；　or　rolls　prepared　for　the

Church。　　He　had　been　advised　long　since　that　he　had　no　right　to

neglect　his　health；　and　he　was　given　wholesome；　though　Lenten；

food。　　He　ate　sparingly；　though　much　more　than　he　had　done；　and

often　he　ate　with　much　pleasure；　and　not　as　formerly　with

aversion　and　a　sense　of　guilt。　　So　it　was　now。　　He　had　some

gruel；　drank　a　cup　of　tea；　and　ate　half　a　white　roll。



The　attendant　went　away；　and　Father　Sergius　remained　alone　under

the　elm　tree。



It　was　a　wonderful　May　evening；　when　the　birches；　aspens；　elms；

wild　cherries；　and　oaks；　had　just　burst　into　foliage。



The　bush　of　wild　cherries　behind　the　elm　tree　was　in　full　bloom

and　had　not　yet　begun　to　shed　its　blossoms；　and　the

nightingalesone　quite　near　at　hand　and　two　or　three　others　in

the　bushes　down　by　the　riverburst　into　full　song　after　some

preliminary　twitters。　　From　the　river　came　the　far…off　songs　of

peasants　returning；　no　doubt；　from　their　work。　　The　sun　was

setting　behind　the　forest；　its　last　rays　glowing　through　the

leaves。　　All　that　side　was　brilliant　green；　the　other　side　with

the　elm　tree　was　dark。　The　cockchafers　flew　clumsily　about；

falling　to　the　ground　when　they　collided　with　anything。



After　supper　Father　Sergius　began　to　repeat　a　silent　prayer：　'O

Lord　Jesus　Christ；　Son　of　God；　have　mercy　upon　us！'　and　then　he

read　a　psalm；　and　suddenly　in　the　middle　of　the　psalm　a　sparrow

flew　out　from　the　bush；　alighted　on　the　ground；　and　hopped

towards　him　chirping　as　it　came；　but　then　it　took　fright　at

something　and　flew　away。　　He　said　a　prayer　which　referred　to　his

abandonment　of　the　world；　and　hastened　to　finish　it　in　order　to

send　for　the　merchant　with　the　sick　daughter。　　She　interested　him

in　that　she　presented　a　distraction；　and　because　both　she　and　her

father　considered　him　a　saint　whose　prayers　were　efficacious。　

Outwardly　he　disavowed　that　idea；　but　in　the　depths　of　his　soul

he　considered　it　to　be　true。



He　was　often　amazed　that　this　had　happened；　that　he；　Stepan

Kasatsky；　had　come　to　be　such　an　extraordinary　saint　and　even　a

worker　of　miracles；　but　of　the　fact　that　he　was　such　there　could

not　be　the　least　doubt。　　He　could　not　fail　to　believe　in　the

miracles　he　himself　witnessed；　beginning　with　the　sick　boy　and

ending　with　the　old　woman　who　had　recovered　her　sight　when　he　had

prayed　for　her。



Strange　as　it　might　be；　it　was　so。　　Accordingly　the　merchant's

daughter　interested　him　as　a　new　individual　who　had　faith　in　him；

and　also　as　a　fresh　opportunity　to　confirm　his　healing　powers　and

enhance　his　fame。　　'They　bring　people　a　thousand　versts　and　write

about　it　in　the　papers。　The　Emperor　knows　of　it；　and　they　know　of

it　in　Europe；　in　unbelieving　Europe'thought　he。　　And　suddenly

he　felt　ashamed　of　his　vanity　and　again　began　to　pray。　　'Lord；

King　of　Heaven；　Comforter；　Soul　of　Truth！　　Come　and　enter　into　me

and　cleanse　me　from　all　sin　and　save　and　bless　my　soul。　　Cleanse

me　from　the　sin　of　worldly　vanity　that　troubles　me！'　he　repeated；

and　he　remembered　how　often　he　had　prayed　about　this　and　how　vain

till　now　his　prayers　had　been　in　that　respect。　　His　prayers

worked　miracles　for　others；　but　in　his　own　case　God　had　not

granted　him　liberation　from　this　petty　passion。



He　remembered　his　prayers　at　the　commencement　of　his　life　at　the

hermitage；　when　he　prayed　for　purity；　humility；　and　love；　and　how

it　seemed　to　him　then　that　God　heard　his　prayers。　　He　had

retained　his　purity　and　had　chopped　off　his　finger。　　And　he

lifted　the　shrivelled　stump　of　that　finger　to　his　lips　and　kissed

it。　　It　seemed　to　him　now　that　he　had　been　humble　then　when　he

had　always　seemed　loathsome　to　himself　on　account　of　his

sinfulness；　and　when　he　remembered　the　tender　feelings　with　which

he　had　then　met　an　old　man　who　was　bringing　a　drunken　soldier　to

him　to　ask　alms；　and　how　he　had　received　HER；　it　seemed　to　him

that　he　had　then　possessed　love　also。　But　now？　　And　he　asked

himself　whether　he　loved　anyone；　whether　he　loved　Sofya　Ivanovna；

or　Father　Seraphim；　whether　he　had　any　feeling　of　love　for　all

who　had　come　to　him　that　dayfor　that　learned　young　man　with

whom　he　had　had　that　instructive　discussion　in　which　he　was

concerned　only　to　show　off　his　own　intelligence　and　that　he　had

not　lagged　behind　the　times　in　knowledge。　　He　wanted　and　needed

their　love；　but　felt　none　towards　them。　He　now　had　neither　love

nor　humility　nor　purity。



He　was　pleased　to　know　that　the　merchant's　daughter　was

twenty…two；　and　he　wondered　whether　she　was　good…looking。　　When

he　inquired　whether　she　was　weak；　he　really　wanted　to　know　if　she

had　feminine　charm。



'Can　I　have　fallen　so　low？'　he　thought。　　'Lord；　help　me！　Restore

me；　my　Lord　and　God！'　　And　he　clasped　his　hands　and　began　to

pray。



The　nightingales　burst　into　song；　a　cockchafer　knocked　against

him　and　crept　up　the　back　of　his　neck。　　He　brushed　it　off。　　'But

does　He　exist？　　What　if　I　am　knocking　at　a　door　fastened　from

outside？　　The　bar　is　on　the　door　for　all　to　see。　　Naturethe

nightingales　and　the　cockchafersis　that　bar。　　Perhaps　the　young

man　was　right。'　　And　he　began　to　pray　aloud。　　He　prayed　for　a

long　time　till　these　thoughts　vanished　and　he　again　felt　calm　and

confident。　He　rang　the　bell　and　told　the　attendant　to　say　that

the　merchant　might　bring　his　daughter　to　him　now。



The　merchant　came；　leading　his　daughter　by　the　arm。　He　led　her

into　the　cell　and　immediately　left　her。



She　was　a　very　fair　girl；　plump　and　very　short；　with　a　pale；

frightened；　childish　face　and　a　much　developed　feminine　figure。　

Father　Sergius　remained　seated　on　the　bench　at　the　entrance　and

when　she　was　passing　and　stopped　beside　him　for　his　blessing　he

was　aghast　at　himself　for　the　way　he　looked　at　her　figure。　　As

she　passed　by　him　he　was　acutely　conscious　of　her　femininity；

though　he　saw　by　her　face　that　she　was　sensual　and　feeble…minded。

He　rose　and　went　into　the　cell。　　She　was　sitting　on　a　stool

waiting　for　him；　and　when　he　entered　she　rose。



'I　want　to　go　back　to　Papa；'　she　said。



'Don't　be　afraid；'　he　replied。　　'What　are　you　suffering　from？'



'I　am　in　pain　all　over；'　she　said；　and　suddenly　her　face　lit　up

with　a　smile。



'You　will　be　well；'　said　he。　　'Pray！'



'What　is　the　use　of　praying？　　I　have　prayed　and　it　does　no

good'and　she　continued　to　smile。　　'I　want　you　to　pray　for　me

and　lay　your　hands　on　me。　　I　saw　you　in　a　dream。'



'How　did　you　see　me？'



'I　saw　you　put　your　hands　on　my　breast　like　that。'　　She　took　his

hand　and　pressed　it　to　her　breast。　　'Just　here。'



He　yielded　his　right　hand　to　her。



'What　is　your　name？'　he　asked；　trembling　all　over　and　feeling

that　he　was　overcome　and　that　his　desire　had　already　passed

beyond　control。



'Marie。　　Why？'



She　took　his　hand　and　kissed　it；　and　then　put　her　arm　round　his

waist　and　pressed　him　to　herself。



'What　are　you　doing？'　he　said。　　'Marie；　you　are　a　devil！'



'Oh；　perhaps。　　What　does　it　matter？'



And　embracing　him　she　sat　down　with　him　on　the　bed。



At　dawn　he　went　out　into　the　porch。



'Can　this　all　have　happened？　　Her　father　will　come　and　she　will

tell　him　everything。　　She　is　a　devil！　　What　am　I　to　do？　　Here　is

the　axe　with　which　I　chopped　off　my　finger。'　He　snatched　up　the

axe　and　moved　back　towards　the　cell。



The　attendant　came　up。



'Do　you　want　some　wood　chopped？　　Let　me　have　the　axe。'



Sergius　yielded　up　the　axe　and　entered　the　cell。　　She　was　lying

there　asleep。　　He　looked　at　her　with　horror；　and　passed　on　beyond

the　partition；　where　he　took　down　the　peasant　clothes　and　put

them　on。　　Then　he　seized　a　pair　of　scissors；　cut　off　his　long

hair；　and　went　out　along　the　path　down　the　hill　to　the　river；

where　he　had　not　been　for　more　than　three　years。



A　road　ran　beside　the　river　and　he　went　along　it　and　walked　till

noon。　　Then　he　went　into　a　field　of　rye　and　lay　down　there。　

Towards　evening　he　approached　a　village；　but　without　entering　it

went　towards　the　cliff　that　overhung　the　river。　　There　he　again

lay　down　to　rest。



It　was　early　morning；　half　an　hour　before　sunrise。　　All　was　damp

and　gloomy　and　a　cold　early　wind　was　blowing　from　the　west。　

'Yes；　I　must　end　it　all。　　There　is　no　God。　But　how　am　I　to　end

it？　　Throw　myself　into　the　river？　　I　can　swim　and　should　not

drown。　　Hang　myself？　　Yes；　just　throw　this　sash　over　a　branch。'　

This　seemed　so　feasible　and　so　easy　that　he　felt　horrified。　　As

usual　at　moments　of　despair　he　felt　the　need　of　prayer。　　But

there　was　no　one　to　pray　to。　　There　was　no　God。　　He　lay　down

resting　on　his　arm；　and　suddenly　such　a　longing　for　sleep

overcame　him　that　he　could　no　longer　support　his　head　on　his

hand；　but　stretched　out　his　arm；　laid　his　head　upon　it；　and　fell

asleep。　But　that　sleep　lasted　only　fo