'So you intend to display your intelligence?'
'Don't worry, that would be quite superfluous here.'
'You just keep cackling away, eh, my dear sir? Haven't lost your mind, by any chance, in that de pot ment of yours?'
'Enough, gentlemen, enough!' Zverkov cried almightily.
'How stupid this is!' growled Simonov.
'Stupid indeed; we gathered as a company of friends to see a good school chum off on his journey, and you go keeping score,' Trudolyubov began to speak, rudely addressing me alone. 'You invited yourself yesterday, so don't disrupt the general harmony…'
'Enough, enough,' Zverkov shouted. 'Stop, gentlemen, this won't do. Better let me tell you how I almost got married two days ago…'
And there followed some lampoon about how the gentleman almost got married two days before. There was, however, not a word in it about marriage, but generals, colonels, and even court dignitaries kept flitting through the story, with Zverkov among them and all but at their head. Approving laughter began; Ferfichkin even let out little squeals.
They all dropped me, and I sat crushed and annihilated.
'Lord, is this any company for me!' I thought. 'And what a fool I made of myself before them! However, I let Ferfichkin go too far. These oafs think they've done me an honor by giving me a place at their table; they don't realize that it's I, I, who am doing them an honor, and not they me! 'How thin! Such clothes!' Oh, cursed trousers! Zverkov has already noticed the yellow spot on the knee… But what's the point! Get up from the table, now, this minute, take your hat, and simply leave without saying a word… Out of scorn! And tomorrow, if they like, a duel. Scoundrels. Am I going to be sorry about seven roubles? Maybe they'll think… Devil take it! I'm not sorry about the seven roubles! I'm leaving this minute!…'
Of course, I stayed.
I drank Lafite and sherry by the glassful in my grief. From lack of habit I was quickly getting drunk, and as my drunkenness increased, so did my vexation. I suddenly wanted to insult them all in the boldest fashion, and only then leave. To seize the right moment and show myself; let them say: he's funny, but no dummy… and… and… in short, devil take them.
I insolently looked around at them all with bleary eyes. But it was as if they had already forgotten me entirely… They were having a noisy, loud, merry time for themselves. Zverkov kept on talking. I began to listen. Zverkov was telling about some magnificent lady whom he had finally driven to a declaration (naturally he was lying like a horse), and that he had been especially helped in this matter by his intimate friend, some princeling named Kolya, a hussar, owner of three thousand souls.
'And yet there's no sign of this Kolya, owner of three thousand souls, at your farewell party,' I suddenly butted in to the conversation. For a moment everyone fell silent.
'So, now you're drunk,' Trudolyubov finally consented to notice me, casting a sidelong, contemptuous glance in my direction. Zverkov silently studied me as if I were a little bug. I lowered my eyes. Simonov hurriedly began pouring champagne.
Trudolyubov raised his glass; everyone did the same, except for me.
'Your health, and a good journey!' he cried to Zverkov. 'To those old years, gentlemen, to our future! Hurrah!'
Everyone drank and fell to kissing Zverkov. I did not budge; the full glass stood untouched before me.
'You're not going to drink?' Trudolyubov, having lost all patience, roared, turning to me threateningly.
'I wish to make a speech on my own part, separately… and then I will drink, Mr Trudolyubov.'
'Disgusting little stinker,' Simonov growled.
I straightened up on my chair and feverishly took my glass, preparing for something extraordinary, and still not knowing myself precisely what I was going to say.
' Silence!' Ferfichkin called out in French. 'Here comes all kinds of intelligence!' Zverkov listened very seriously, realizing what was going on.
'Lieutenant Zverkov, sir,' I began, 'let it be known to you that I hate phrases, phrase-mongers, and tight-fitting waists… That is the first point, and the second will follow forthwith.'
Everyone stirred greatly.
'Second point: I hate gallantry and gallantizers. Especially gallantizers!
'Third point: I love truth, sincerity, and honesty,' I went on almost mechanically, because I was already beginning to go numb with horror, unable to understand how I could be speaking this way… 'I love thought, M'sieur Zverkov; I love true friendship, on an equal footing, and not… hm… I love… However, why not? I, too, shall drink to your health, M'sieur Zverkov. Charm the Circassian girls, shoot the enemies of the fatherland, and… and… To your health, M'sieur Zverkov!'
Zverkov rose from his chair, bowed to me, and said:
'Much obliged to you.'
He was terribly offended, and even turned pale.
'Devil take it,' roared Trudolyubov, banging his fist on the table.
'No, sir, it's a punch in the mug for that!' Ferfichkin shrieked.
'He ought to be thrown out!' Simonov growled.
'Not a word, gentlemen, not a move!' Zverkov cried solemnly, checking the general indignation. 'I thank you all,
