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Updated: June 2, 2025
'You were in the theatre! he cried, flinging his arms about. 'How was it I didn't see you? I'm awfully glad I met you. You must come and have supper with me. Come on; I'll stand the supper! Young Ratsch seemed in an excited, almost ecstatic, frame of mind. His little eyes darted to and fro; he was grinning, and there were spots of red on his face. 'Why this gleefulness? asked Fustov. 'Why?
'Na! gut, gut... geh, alte! Mr. Ratsch cut her short. 'Geh' schon, geh' schon, muttered Eleonora Karpovna, and she went away, still holding the kerchief with her fingers, and shedding tears. And I followed her. In the passage stood Viktor in a student's coat with a beaver collar and a cap stuck jauntily on one side.
'Kolia, Olga, Sashka and Mashka! This one's eight, this one's seven, that one's four, and this one's only two! Ha! ha! ha! As you can see, my wife and I haven't wasted our time! Eh, Eleonora Karpovna? 'You always say things like that, observed Eleonora Karpovna and she turned away. 'And she's bestowed such Russian names on her squallers! Mr. Ratsch pursued.
Ratsch, who had also, however, listened with attention; 'romantische Musik! That's all the fashion nowadays. Only, why not play correctly? Eh? Put your finger on two notes at once what's that for? Eh? To be sure, all we care for is to go quickly, quickly! Turns it out hotter, eh? Hot pancakes! he bawled like a street seller. Susanna turned slightly towards Mr. Ratsch.
Ratsch who waked me, and ran with me to the big house, to Ivan Matveitch's bedroom.... But I found not even the last dying gestures, which had left such a vivid impression on my memory at my mother's bedside.
They say all persons in power, as they grow old, are readily caught by that bait, the bait of exclusive personal devotion.... Semyon Matveitch had good reason to call Mr. Ratsch his Araktcheev.... He might well have called him another name too. 'You're not one to make difficulties, he used to say to him.
Ratsch, and most of all the eternal question, what is the use? and the relentless, unbroken flowing away of time, of life.... All was ended as though by a clap of thunder, and the words which would have loosed us from the burden of our secret even the last dying words of leave-taking I was not destined to hear from my mother! All that is left in my memory is Mr.
Ratsch, wheeling round to the left in soldierly fashion, and slapping himself on the thigh, announced to all of us 'gentlemen present, that he invited us, and also the 'reverend clergy, to a 'funeral banquet, which had been arranged at no great distance from the cemetery, in the chief saloon of an extremely superior restaurant, 'thanks to the kind offices of our honoured friend Sigismund Sigismundovitch.... At these words he indicated the assistant of the police superintendent, and added that for all his grief and his Lutheran faith, he, Ivan Demianitch Ratsch, as a genuine Russian, put the old Russian usages before everything.
'I did not say that, she brought out slowly. 'Troo-too-too-too-too-oo-oo... the bassoon growled with startling fury, executing the final flourishes. I turned round, caught sight of the red neck of Mr. Ratsch, swollen like a boa-constrictor's, beneath his projecting ears, and very disgusting I thought him. 'But that... instrument you surely do not care for, I said in an undertone.
'You're surprised, young man, I see, at my behaviour, he addressed me again. 'But that's because you don't understand my temperament. You must just ask our good friend here, Alexander Daviditch, to tell you about me. What'll he tell you? He'll tell you old Ratsch is a simple, good-hearted chap, a regular Russian, in heart, if not in origin, ha-ha!
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