suddenly wiped it off himself. But this at once appeared so preposterous to him, so beyond anything reasonable, that he fell silent and began to be surprised. Akim Petrovich, though he had been drinking, sat all the same as if he were in shock. Ivan Ilyich now realized that, for almost a quarter of an hour already, he had been telling him about some most interesting topic, but that Akim Petrovich, while listening to him, was as if not only embarrassed, but even afraid of something. Pseldonymov, who was sitting two chairs away, also kept stretching his neck toward him, his head inclined to one side, listening with a most disagreeable air. He actually was as if keeping watch on him. Glancing around at the guests, he saw that many were looking straight at him and guffawing. But the strangest thing of all was that this did not embarrass him in the least; on the contrary, he sipped once more from his glass and suddenly started speaking for all to hear.
“I was saying!” he began as loudly as he could, “gentlemen, I was just saying to Akim Petrovich that Russia… yes, precisely Russia… in short, you understand what I mean to sa-sa-say… Russia, in my deepest conviction, experiences hu-humaneness…”
“Hu-humaneness!” came from the other end of the table.
“Hu-hu!”
“Coo-coo!”
Ivan Ilyich paused. Pseldonymov rose from his chair and started peering: who had shouted? Akim Petrovich was covertly shaking his head, as if admonishing the guests. Ivan Ilyich noticed it very well, but painfully held his tongue.
“Humaneness!” he went on stubbornly. “And this evening… and precisely this evening I was saying to Stepan Niki-ki-forovich… yes… that… that the renewal, so to speak, of things…”
“Your Excellency!” came loudly from the other end of the table.
“What can I do for you?” the interrupted Ivan Ilyich replied, trying to make out who had shouted.
“Precisely nothing, Your Excellency, I got carried away, please continue, con-tin-ue!” the voice came again.
Ivan Ilyich winced.
“The renewal, so to speak, of these very things…”
“Your Excellency!” the voice shouted again.
“What is it you want?”
“Hello there!”
This time Ivan Ilyich could not restrain himself. He interrupted his speech and turned to the offender and violator of order. This was a still very young student, totally crocked and arousing enormous suspicion. He had been hollering for a long time and even broke a glass and two plates, insisting that that was what was done at weddings. At the same moment that Ivan Ilyich turned to him, the officer began to reprimand the shouter sternly.
“What’s with you, why are you hollering? You ought to be taken out, that’s what!”
“It’s not about you, Your Excellency, it’s not about you! Do continue!” shouted the merrymaking schoolboy, sprawling on his chair. “Do continue, I’m listening and I’m very, ve-ry, ve-ry pleased with you! Pra-aiseworthy, pra- aiseworthy!”
“A drunken brat!” Pseldonymov prompted in a whisper.
“I can see he’s drunk, but…”
“It’s that I just told an amusing anecdote, Your Excellency!” the officer began. “About a certain lieutenant of our command, who had exactly that way of talking to superiors; so now he’s imitating him. To every word of his superior, he would add: pra-aiseworthy, pra-aiseworthy! He was expelled from the service for it ten years ago.”
“Wha-what lieutenant is that?”
“From our command, Your Excellency, he went mad over this praiseworthy. First they admonished him with milder measures, then they put him under arrest… His superior officer admonished him like a father; and all he said was: pra-aiseworthy, pra-aiseworthy! And it’s strange: he was a courageous officer, six foot six. They wanted to court-martial him, but noticed that he was crazy.”
“Meaning… a prankster. For prankishness they shouldn’t be so severe… I, for my part, am ready to forgive…”
“There was medical evidence, Your Excellency.”
“What! an autopsy?”
“Good heavens, he was perfectly alive, sir.”
A loud and almost general burst of laughter came from the guests, who in the beginning had behaved themselves decorously. Ivan Ilyich became furious.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen!” he cried, at first almost without stammering, “I am quite well able to distinguish that autopsies are not performed on the living. I thought that in his madness he was no longer living… that is, already dead… that is, already dead… that is, I mean to say… that you don’t love me… And yet I love you all… yes, and I love Por… Porfiry… I humiliate myself by saying so…”
At that moment an enormous spit flew out of Ivan Ilyich’s mouth and spattered on the tablecloth in a most conspicuous place. Pseldonymov rushed to wipe it up with his napkin. This last disaster finally crushed him.
“Gentlemen, this is too much!” he cried out in despair.
“A drunk man, Your Excellency,” Pseldonymov prompted again.
“Porfiry! I see that you… all… yes! I say that I hope… yes, I challenge you all to say: how have I humiliated myself?”
Ivan Ilyich was on the verge of tears.
