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Updated: May 2, 2025
But at this point another almost incredible scene of grotesque buffoonery gave the finishing touch to the episode. Maximov suddenly appeared by the side of the carriage. He ran up, panting, afraid of being too late. Rakitin and Alyosha saw him running.
Nikolay Parfenovitch was too well pleased with them, as it was, and did not want to worry them with trifles, moreover, it was nothing but a foolish, drunken quarrel over cards. There had been drinking and disorder enough, that night.... So the two hundred roubles remained in the pockets of the Poles. Then old Maximov was summoned.
“No, you see,” Maximov turned to him. “What I mean is that those pretty Polish ladies ... when they danced the mazurka with our Uhlans ... when one of them dances a mazurka with a Uhlan she jumps on his knee like a kitten ... a little white one ... and the pan-father and pan-mother look on and allow it.... They allow it ... and next day the Uhlan comes and offers her his hand.... That’s how it is ... offers her his hand, he he!” Maximov ended, tittering.
It consisted of nothing but skipping and hopping, kicking up the feet, and at every skip Maximov slapped the upturned sole of his foot. Kalganov did not like it at all, but Mitya kissed the dancer. “Thanks. You’re tired perhaps? What are you looking for here? Would you like some sweets? A cigar, perhaps?” “A cigarette.” “Don’t you want a drink?”
“They taught me all those well-bred, aristocratic dances when I was little....” “Go, go with him, Mitya, and I’ll watch from here how he dances,” said Grushenka. “No, no, I’m coming to look on, too,” exclaimed Kalganov, brushing aside in the most naïve way Grushenka’s offer to sit with him. They all went to look on. Maximov danced his dance. But it roused no great admiration in any one but Mitya.
On the other hand, Gorky's wandering beggars are closely related to those "free men" to whom M. S. Maximov attributes a historic rôle which was favorable to the extension of the Russian empire.
Maximov, hearing that Grushenka wanted to dance, squealed with delight, and ran skipping about in front of her, humming: With legs so slim and sides so trim And its little tail curled tight. But Grushenka waved her handkerchief at him and drove him away. “Sh-h! Mitya, why don’t they come? Let every one come ... to look on. Call them in, too, that were locked in.... Why did you lock them in?
“So that’s what you’re after! No, brother, that won’t do!” “I’d do no harm to any one,” Maximov muttered disconsolately. “Oh, all right, all right. They only come here to dance and sing, you know, brother. But damn it all, wait a bit!... Eat and drink and be merry, meanwhile. Don’t you want money?” “Later on, perhaps,” smiled Maximov. “All right, all right....” Mitya’s head was burning.
“There’s nothing to tell, it’s all so foolish,” answered Maximov at once, with evident satisfaction, mincing a little. “Besides, all that’s by way of allegory in Gogol, for he’s made all the names have a meaning. Nozdryov was really called Nosov, and Kuvshinikov had quite a different name, he was called Shkvornev.
“Of course I mean you,” cried Fyodor Pavlovitch. “Who else? The Father Superior could not be von Sohn.” “But I am not von Sohn either. I am Maximov.” “No, you are von Sohn. Your reverence, do you know who von Sohn was? It was a famous murder case.
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