s at his watch] Yes, I
understand. [He kisses IVANOFF] Good-bye, I must go to the blessing
of the school now. [He goes as far as the door, then stops] She is so
clever! Sasha and I were talking about gossiping yesterday, and she
flashed out this epigram: "Father," she said, "fire-flies shine at night
so that the night-birds may make them their prey, and good people are
made to be preyed upon by gossips and slanderers." What do you think of
that? She is a genius, another George Sand!

IVANOFF. [Stopping him as he goes out] Paul, what is the matter with me?

LEBEDIEFF. I have wanted to ask you that myself, but I must confess I
was ashamed to. I don't know, old chap. Sometimes I think your troubles
have been too heavy for you, and yet I know you are not the kind to
give in to them; you would not be overcome by misfortune. It must be
something else, Nicholas, but what it may be I can't imagine.

IVANOFF. I can't imagine either what the matter is, unless--and yet
no--[A pause] Well, do you see, this is what I wanted to say. I used to
have a workman called Simon, you remember him. Once, at threshing-time,
to show the girls how strong he was, he loaded himself with two sacks
of rye, and broke his back. He died soon after. I think I have broken my
back also. First I went to school, then to the university, then came the
cares of this estate, all my plans--I did not believe what others did;
did not marry as others did; I worked passionately, risked everything;
no one else, as you know, threw their money away to right and left as I
did. So I heaped the burdens on my back, and it broke. We are all heroes
at twenty, ready to attack anything, to do everything, and at thirty are
worn-out, useless men. How, oh, how do you account for this weariness?
However, I may be quite wrong; go away, Paul, I am boring you.

LEBEDIEFF. I know what is the matter with you, old man: you got out of
bed on the wrong side this morning.

IVANOFF. That is stupid, Paul, and stale. Go away!

LEBEDIEFF. It is stupid, certainly. I see that myself now. I am going at
once. [LEBEDIEFF goes out.]

IVANOFF. [Alone] I am a worthless, miserable, useless man. Only a man
equally miserable and suffering, as Paul is, could love or esteem me
now. Good God! How I loathe myself! How bitterly I hate my voice, my
hands, my thoughts, these clothes, each step I take! How ridiculous it
is, how disgusting! Less than a year ago I was healthy and strong, full
of pride and en