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Updated: August 2, 2024
Every one looked at Liza. "Anoint, anoint!" muttered Semyon Yakovlevitch. Liza suddenly turned white, cried out, and rushed through the partition. Then a rapid and hysterical scene followed. She began pulling Mavriky Nikolaevitch up with all her might, tugging at his elbows with both hands. "Get up! Get up!" she screamed, as though she were crazy. "Get up at once, at once. How dare you?"
And was not some command laid upon you?" "Not to fight; not to give the rein to my hands," answered the kneeling gentleman hoarsely. "Have you obeyed?" asked the monk. "I cannot obey. My own strength gets the better of me." "Away with him, away with him! With a broom, with a broom!" cried Semyon Yakovlevitch, waving his hands. The gentleman rushed out of the room without waiting for this penalty.
"Frost," Semyon Yakovlevitch pronounced. "Semyon Yakovlevitch, why don't you answer me all this time? I've been interested in you ever so long," the lady of our party began again. "Ask him!" said Semyon Yakovlevitch, not heeding her, but pointing to the kneeling gentleman. The monk from the monastery to whom the order was given moved sedately to the kneeling figure. "How have you sinned?
They were all going to a house the other side of the river, to the merchant Sevastyanov's. In the lodge of this merchant's house our saint and prophet, Semyon Yakovlevitch, who was famous not only amongst us but in the surrounding provinces and even in Petersburg and Moscow, had been living for the last ten years, in retirement, ease, and Comfort.
That's how they treat their own mother!" "Give her!" Semyon Yakovlevitch pointed to a sugar-loaf. The boy skipped up, seized the sugar-loaf and dragged it to the widow. "Ach, father; great is your merciful kindness. What am I to do with so much?" wailed the widow. "More, more," said Semyon Yakovlevitch lavishly. They dragged her another sugar-loaf. "More, more!" the saint commanded.
A monk from the monastery was always in waiting upon Semyon Yakovlevitch with this object. All were in expectation of great amusement. No one of the party had seen Semyon Yakovlevitch before, except Lyamshin, who declared that the saint had given orders that he should be driven out with a broom, and had with his own hand flung two big baked potatoes after him.
She was the lady who had observed that one must not be squeamish about one's amusements, so long as they were interesting. Semyon Yakovlevitch did not even look at her. The kneeling landowner uttered a deep, sonorous sigh, like the sound of a big pair of bellows. "With sugar in it!" said Semyon Yakovlevitch suddenly, pointing to the wealthy merchant.
Every one went to see him, especially visitors to the neighbourhood, extracting from him some crazy utterance, bowing down to him, and leaving an offering. These offerings were sometimes considerable, and if Semyon Yakovlevitch did not himself assign them to some other purpose were piously sent to some church or more often to the monastery of Our Lady.
Now, my mother who, as you will see, is a noble, sensible woman has known Lubov Sergievna, for many years; yet even to this day she does not properly understand her. Shall I tell you why I was out of temper last evening when you were questioning me? Well, Lubov is extremely religious, and understands Ivan Yakovlevitch to the full.
The room was full of people, at least a dozen visitors, of whom two were sitting with Semyon Yakovlevitch on the other side of the partition. One was a grey-headed old pilgrim of the peasant class, and the other a little, dried-up monk, who sat demurely, with his eyes cast down.
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