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Updated: June 19, 2025
His life's happiness consisted in the acceptance of every misfortune without a murmur, and its wealth, in the total renunciation of life's joys and material benefits. He was a beggar by choice, a fantastic personage whose life was sacrificed to an idea of which he himself had no clear conception." Soloveitchik wrung his hands.
Wide-eyed he stared at Sarudine, at the blood, and the dirty sand on the snow-white tunic, trembling all the while, as his lips moved feebly. Ivanoff angrily pulled him along, but Soloveitchik shook him off with surprising vehemence, and he then clung to the trunk of a tree, as if he wished to resist being dragged away by main force. "Oh! why, why, did you do that?" he whimpered.
Sultan! Kusch! Kusch!" exclaimed Soloveitchik, in order to give himself courage. In the darkness, Sultan thrust his cold, moist nose into his master's hand. "There you are!" said Soloveitchik, as he set down the bucket. Sultan sniffed, and began to eat voraciously, while his master stood beside him and gazed mournfully at the surrounding gloom. "Ah! what can I do?" he thought.
The art of living implies a talent; and he who does not possess that talent perishes or makes shipwreck of his life." "How calmly you say that! As if you knew everything! Pray don't be offended, but have you always been like that always so calm?" asked Soloveitchik, keenly interested.
Soloveitchik limply waved his hand, and did not reply. Imperceptibly the darkness closed round them. The fires of sunset paled, and beneath the deserted sheds the shadows grew deeper, as if in these lonely places mysterious, dreadful beings were about to take up their abode during the night.
"Well," replied Sanine, who clearly read the other's thoughts, "perhaps death in that case would be better. Thinking and worrying are of no avail. He only ought to live who finds joy in living; but for him who suffers, death is best." "That is what I thought, too," exclaimed Soloveitchik, and he excitedly grasped Sanine's hand.
Then all at once, they remembered that not one of them had asked about Soloveitchik. "Where did he hang himself? Do you know?" "In the shed next to the dog's kennel. He let the dog loose, and then hanged himself." Sina and Yourii simultaneously seemed to hear a shrill voice exclaim: "Lie down, Sultan!"
But now it's closed, and everybody's gone away except myself." "Don't you find it lonely, to be all by yourself, like this?" Soloveitchik was silent. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he said: "It's all the same to me." They remained silent. There was no sound but the rattling of the dog's chain. "It's not the place that's lonely," exclaimed Soloveitchik with sudden vehemence.
"I expect that you have a most wonderful conception of life, and have read heaps of books. One can see that directly. Yet you lose your temper because everybody doesn't agree with you; and, what is more, you behave rudely to Soloveitchik, who has certainly never done you any harm." Goschienko was silent, looking utterly amazed, as if Sanine had said something most extraordinary.
"There I don't agree with you," retorted Goschienko. "But I do," cried Novikoff hotly. Once more all was confusion and senseless uproar, during which it was impossible to hear either the beginning or the end of any utterance. Reduced to silence by this war of words, Soloveitchik sat in a corner and listened.
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