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Updated: June 26, 2025
"To speak the truth, that's not given to everyone!" said Yakov Tarasovich, sternly and instructively, lifting his hand upward. "It is not the heart that grasps truth; it is the mind; do you understand that? And as to your feeling, that's nonsense! A cow also feels when they twist her tail. But you must understand, understand everything! Understand also your enemy.
And now I'm going! Hold me back!" Foma rose from his chair, thrust his cap on his head, and measured the old man with abhorrence. "You may go; but I'll I'll catch you! It will come out as I say!" said Yakov Tarasovich in a broken voice. "And I'll go on a spree! I'll squander all!" "Very well, we'll see!" "Goodbye! you hero," Foma laughed. "Goodbye, for a short while! I'll not go back on my own.
And within me something blazed up; it has burned out, and there's nothing more there. What have I to hope for now? And everything remains as it was." Yakov Tarasovich burst into bitter laughter. "What then, did you think to lick away a mountain with your tongue? You armed yourself with malice enough to fight a bedbug, and you started out after a bear, is that it? Madman!
An oak is a good tree, but its fruits are good for swine only. So it comes out that an oak is simply a blockhead." "But it's all the same, we have to pay, anyway." "Clever people are in no hurry about this; while you are ready to run as fast as you can to pay the money. What a merchant you are!" Yakov Tarasovich was positively dissatisfied with his godson.
"Tarasovich! don't be capricious!" "Sh! Silence! Gentlemen! Yakov Tarasovich will say a few words!" "Sh!" And just at the moment the noise subsided some one's loud, indignant whisper was heard: "How she pinched me, the carrion." And Bobrov inquired in his deep basso: "Where did she pinch you?"
"Eh, children, you are wounds to the heart you are not its joy," complained Yakov Tarasovich in a ringing voice, and he evidently invested a great deal in these words, for immediately after he had pronounced them he became radiant, more courageous, and he said briskly, addressing himself to his daughter: "Well, have you melted with joy?
"Ah, Yakov Tarasovich!" exclaimed the governor with a friendly smile, shaking and squeezing Mayakin's hand, while the old man was at the same time kissing the bishop's hand. "How are you, deathless old man?" "I thank you humbly, your Excellency! My respects to Sophya Pavlovna!" Mayakin spoke fast, whirling like a peg-top amid the crowd of people.
From behind his shoulder Foma saw the pale, frightened and joyous face of Luba she looked at her father with beseeching eyes and it seemed she was on the point of crying out. For a few moments all were silent and motionless, crushed as they were by the immensity of their emotions. The silence was broken by the low, but dull and quivering voice of Yakov Tarasovich: "You have grown old, Taras."
Yakov Tarasovich closed his accounts in the banks, withdrawing all deposits. Soon Foma began to feel that even on promissory notes, they now gave him the money not quite as willingly as before.
"Have you no other words for me?" asked Foma, sternly, looking straight into the old man's face. And suddenly he noticed that his godfather shuddered, his legs trembled, his eyes began to blink repeatedly, and his hands clutched the door posts with an effort. Foma advanced toward him, presuming that the old man was feeling ill, but Yakov Tarasovich said in a dull and angry voice: "Stand aside.
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