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The change for the better did not last long. The disease resumed its onslaughts. Vassily Ivanovitch was sitting by Bazarov. It seemed as though the old man were tormented by some special anguish. He was several times on the point of speaking and could not. 'Yevgeny! he brought out at last; 'my son, my one, dear son! This unfamiliar mode of address produced an effect on Bazarov.
Vassily Ivanovitch jumped up briskly from the garden seat, and hummed from Robert le Diable 'The rule, the rule we set ourselves, To live, to live for pleasure! 'Singular vitality! observed Bazarov, going away from the window. It was midday. The sun was burning hot behind a thin veil of unbroken whitish clouds.
There is not a touch of banality from beginning to end, and not an unnecessary word; the portraits of the old father and mother, the young Kirsanov, and all the minor characters are perfect; and amidst the trivial crowd Bazarov stands out like Lucifer, the strongest the only strong character that Turgenev created, the first Nihilist for if Turgenev was not the first to invent the word, he was the first to apply it in this sense.
"Never mind, don't be uneasy. Sit down there. Don't come close to me: you know my illness is catching." Anna Sergyevna swiftly crossed the room, and sat down in the armchair near the sofa on which Bazarov was lying. "Noble-hearted!" he whispered. "Oh, how near, and how young, and fresh, and pure in this loathsome room!
Arkady was bewildered, and looked on at her as all young people look on that's to say, he was constantly asking himself, 'What is the meaning of that? Bazarov shut himself up in his room; he came back to tea, however. Anna Sergyevna longed to say some friendly word to him, but she did not know how to address him....
Turgenev surely intended originally that we should love Bazarov; as a matter of fact, nobody really loves him,* and no other character in the book loves him for long except his parents. We have a wholesome respect for him, as we respect any ruthless, terrible force; but the word "love" does not express our feeling toward him.
'You are parting from me for ever, Yevgeny, responded Arkady mournfully; 'and have you nothing else to say to me? Bazarov scratched the back of his head. 'Yes, Arkady, yes, I have other things to say to you, but I'm not going to say them, because that's sentimentalism that means, mawkishness. And you get married as soon as you can; and build your nest, and get children to your heart's content.
'I am certain we are not seeing each other for the last time, Anna Sergyevna declared with an unconscious gesture. 'Anything may happen! answered Bazarov, and he bowed and went away. 'So you are thinking of making yourself a nest? he said the same day to Arkady, as he packed his box, crouching on the floor. 'Well, it's a capital thing. But you needn't have been such a humbug.
Bazarov went late to bed, and all night long he was harassed by disordered dreams.... Madame Odintsov kept appearing in them, now she was his mother, and she was followed by a kitten with black whiskers, and this kitten seemed to be Fenitchka; then Pavel Petrovitch took the shape of a great wood, with which he had yet to fight.
'To my mind, retorted Bazarov, 'Raphael's not worth a brass farthing; and they're no better than he. 'Bravo! bravo! Listen, Arkady ... that's how young men of to-day ought to express themselves! And if you come to think of it, how could they fail to follow you! In old days, young men had to study; they didn't want to be called dunces, so they had to work hard whether they liked it or not.
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