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Часть текста: from under the bedclothes, entreating him to let him alone. He listened to all he said about Shatov, however, and seemed for some reason extremely struck by the news that Virginsky had found no one at home. It seemed that Lyamshin knew already (through Liputin) of Fedka's death, and hurriedly and incoherently told Virginsky about it, at which the latter seemed struck in his turn. To Virginsky's direct question, “Should they go or not?” he began suddenly waving his hands again, entreating him to let him alone, and saying that it was not his business, and that he knew nothing about it. Virginsky returned home dejected and greatly alarmed. It weighed upon him that he had to hide it from his family; he was accustomed to tell his wife everything; and if his feverish brain had not hatched a new idea at that moment, a new plan of conciliation for further action, he might have taken to his bed like Lyamshin. But this new idea sustained him; what's more, he began impatiently awaiting the hour fixed, and set off for the appointed spot earlier than was necessary. It was a very gloomy place at the end of the huge park. I went there afterwards on purpose to look at it. How sinister it must have looked on that chill autumn evening! It was at the edge of an old wood belonging to the Crown. Huge ancient pines stood out as vague sombre blurs in the darkness. It was so dark that they could hardly see each other two paces off, but Pyotr Stepanovitch, Liputin, and afterwards Erkel, brought lanterns with them. At some unrecorded date in the past a rather absurd-looking grotto had for some reason been built here of rough unhewn stones. The table and benches in the grotto had long ago decayed and fallen. Two hundred paces to the right was the bank of the third pond of the park. These three ponds stretched one after another for a mile from the house to the very end of the park. One...

2. Dostoevsky. The Insulted and Injured (English. Униженные и оскорбленные). Part II. Chapter I

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Часть текста: news. But the dignified air he assumed in his naive pride at the possession of such news tickled Natasha at once. I could not help laughing too. And the angrier he was with us the more we laughed. Alyosha's vexation and then childish despair reduced us at last to the condition of Gogol's midshipman who roared with laughter if one held up one's finger. Mavra, coming out of the kitchen, stood in the doorway and looked at us with grave indignation, vexed that Alyosha had not come in for a good "wigging" from Natasha, as she had been eagerly anticipating for the last five days, and that we were all so merry instead. At last Natasha, seeing that our laughter was hurting Alyosha's feelings, left off laughing. "What do you want to tell us?" she asked. "Well, am I to set the samovar?" asked Mavra, interrupting Alyosha without the slightest ceremony. "Be off, Mavra, be off!" he cried, waving his hands at her, in a hurry to get rid of her. "I'm going to tell you everything that has happened, is happening,...

3. Dostoevsky. A Raw Youth (English. Подросток). Part II. Chapter II

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Часть текста: him at Prince Sergay's. I had brought the prince and him together, but they had ties apart from me (I mean the affair abroad, and all that). Moreover, the prince had promised to divide the disputed fortune with him, giving him a third, which would mean twenty thousand at least. I remember at the time I thought it awfully strange that he was giving him only a third and not the full half; but I said nothing. Prince Sergay gave this promise of his own accord; Versilov had not said a syllable to suggest it, had not dropped a hint. Prince Sergay came forward himself and Versilov only let it pass in silence, never once alluded to it, and showed no sign that he had the least recollection of a promise. I may mention, by the way, that Prince Sergay was absolutely enchanted with him at first and still more with the things he said. He fell into positive raptures about him, and several times expressed his feelings to me. Sometimes when he was alone with me he exclaimed about himself, almost with despair, that he was "so ill-educated, that he was on the wrong track! . . ." Oh, we were still so friendly then! . . . I kept trying to impress Versilov with Prince Sergay's good points only, and excused his defects though I saw them myself; but Versilov listened in silence, or smiled. "If he has faults he has at least as many virtues as defects!" I once exclaimed to Versilov when I was alone with him. "Goodness, how you flatter him!" he said laughing. "How do I flatter him?" I said, not understanding. "As many virtues! Why he must be a saint if he has as many virtues as defects!" But, of course, that was not his opinion. In general he avoided speaking of Prince Sergay at that time, as he did indeed of everything real, but ...

4. Dostoevsky. The Possessed (English. Бесы). Part II. Chapter I. Night

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Часть текста: and it was natural that many things should seem strange to us: Stepan Trofimovitch and I, anyway, shut ourselves up for the first part of the time, and looked on with dismay from a distance. I did, indeed, go about here and there, and, as before, brought him various items of news, without which he could not exist. I need hardly say that there were rumours of the most varied kind going about the town in regard to the blow that Stavrogin had received, Lizaveta Nikolaevna's fainting fit, and all that happened on that Sunday. But what we wondered was, through whom the story had got about so quickly and so accurately. Not one of the persons present had any need to give away the secret of what had happened, or interest to serve by doing so. The servants had not been present. Lebyadkinwas the only one who might have chattered, not so much from spite, for he had gone out in great alarm (and fear of an enemy destroys spite against him), but simply from incontinence of speech-But Lebyadkin and his sister had disappeared next day, and nothing could be heard of them. There was no trace of them at Filipov's house, they had moved, no one knew where, and seemed to have vanished. Shatov, of whom I wanted to inquire about Marya Timofyevna, would not open his door, and I believe sat locked up in his room for the whole of those eight days, even discontinuing his work in the town....

5. Dostoevsky. Crime and Punishment (English. Преступление и наказание). Part three. Chapter Five

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Часть текста: Преступление и наказание). Part three. Chapter Five Chapter Five RASKOLNIKOV was already entering the room. He came in looking as though he had the utmost difficulty not to burst out laughing again. Behind him Razumihin strode in gawky and awkward, shamefaced and red as a peony, with an utterly crestfallen and ferocious expression. His face and whole figure really were ridiculous at that moment and amply justified Raskolnikov's laughter. Raskolnikov, not waiting for an introduction, bowed to Porfiry Petrovitch, who stood in the middle of the room looking inquiringly at them. He held out his hand and shook hands, still apparently making desperate efforts to subdue his mirth and utter a few words to introduce himself. But he had no sooner succeeded in assuming a serious air and muttering something when he suddenly glanced again as though accidentally at Razumihin, and could no longer control himself: his stifled laughter broke out the more irresistibly the more he tried to restrain it. The extraordinary ferocity with which Razumihin received this "spontaneous" mirth gave the whole scene the appearance of most genuine fun and naturalness. Razumihin strengthened this impression as though on purpose. "Fool! You fiend," he roared, waving his arm which at once struck a little round table with an empty tea-glass on it. Everything was sent flying and crashing. "But why break chairs, gentlemen? You know it's a loss to the Crown," Porfiry Petrovitch quoted gaily. ...

6. Dostoevsky. The Insulted and Injured (English. Униженные и оскорбленные). Part III. Chapter X

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Часть текста: I don't often have supper at home. Surely you won't refuse to be my guest?" "But I've told you already that I never take supper." "But once in a way doesn't matter; especially as I'm inviting you. . ." Which meant he would pay for me. I am certain that he added that intentionally. I allowed myself to be taken, but made up my mind to pay for myself in the restaurant. We arrived. The prince engaged a private room, and with the taste of a connois- seur selected two or three dishes. They were expensive and so was the bottle of delicate wine which he ordered. All this was beyond my means. I looked at the bill of fare and ordered half a woodcock and a glass of Lafitte. The prince looked at this. "You won't sup with me! Why, this is positively ridiculous! Pardon, mon ami, but this is. . . revolting punctiliousness. It's the paltriest vanity. There's almost a suspicion of class feeling about this. I don't mind betting that's it. I assure you you're offending me." But I stuck to my point. "But, as you like," he added. "I won't insist. . . . Tell me, Ivan Petrovitch, may I speak to you as a ...

7. Dostoevsky. The Idiot (English. Идиот). Part II. Chapter VIII

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Часть текста: Antip Burdovsky. He was extremely excited; his lips trembled, and the resentment of an embittered soul was in his voice. But he spoke so indistinctly that hardly a dozen words could be gathered. "It was a princely action!" sneered Hippolyte. "If anyone had treated me so," grumbled the boxer. "I mean to say that if I had been in Burdovsky's place... I..." "Gentlemen, I did not know you were there; I have only just been informed, I assure you," repeated Muishkin. "We are not afraid of your friends, prince," remarked Lebedeff's nephew, "for we are within our rights." The shrill tones of Hippolyte interrupted him. "What right have you... by what right do you demand us to submit this matter, about Burdovsky... to the judgment of your friends? We know only too well what the judgment of your friends will be! ..." This beginning gave promise of a stormy discussion. The prince was much discouraged, but at last he managed to make himself heard amid the vociferations of his excited visitors. "If you," he said, addressing Burdovsky--"if you prefer not to speak here, I offer again to go into another room with you... and as to your waiting to see me, I repeat that I only this instant heard..." "Well, you have no right, you have no right, no right at all!... Your friends indeed!"... gabbled Burdovsky, defiantly examining the faces round him, and becoming more and more excited. "You have no right!..." As he ended thus abruptly, he leant forward, staring at the prince with his short-sighted, bloodshot eyes. The latter was so astonished, that he did not reply, but looked steadily at him in return. "Lef Nicolaievitch!" interposed Madame Epanchin, suddenly, "read this at once, this very moment! It is about this business." She held out a weekly comic paper, pointing to an article on one of its pages. Just as the...

8. Dostoevsky. The Idiot (English. Идиот). Part II. Chapter X

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Часть текста: so outrageous that even Lizabetha Prokofievna will not be able to stand it." Muishkin looked at him inquiringly. "You do not care if he does?" added Evgenie Pavlovitch. "Neither do I; in fact, I should be glad, merely as a proper punishment for our dear Lizabetha Prokofievna. I am very anxious that she should get it, without delay, and I shall stay till she does. You seem feverish." "Never mind; by-and-by; yes, I am not feeling well," said the prince impatiently, hardly listening. He had just heard Hippolyte mention his own name. "You don't believe it?" said the invalid, with a nervous laugh. "I don't wonder, but the prince will have no difficulty in believing it; he will not be at all surprised." "Do you hear, prince--do you hear that?" said Lizabetha Prokofievna, turning towards him. There was laughter in the group around her, and Lebedeff stood before her gesticulating wildly. "He declares that your humbug of a landlord revised this gentleman's article--the article that was read aloud just now--in which you got such a charming dressing-down." The prince regarded Lebedeff with astonishment. "Why don't you say something?" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna, stamping her foot. "Well," murmured the prince, with his eyes still fixed on Lebedeff, "I can see now that he did." "Is it true?" she asked eagerly....

9. Dostoevsky. The Gambler (English. Игрок). Chapter VII

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Часть текста: perhaps, riches awaited me. It was a curious fact, that, though I had not yet won anything at play, I nevertheless acted, thought, and felt as though I were sure, before long, to become wealthy-- since I could not imagine myself otherwise. Next, I bethought me, despite the earliness of the hour, of going to see Mr. Astley, who was staying at the Hotel de l'Angleterre (a hostelry at no great distance from our own). But suddenly De Griers entered my room. This had never before happened, for of late that gentleman and I had stood on the most strained and distant of terms--he attempting no concealment of his contempt for me (he even made an express, point of showing it), and I having no reason to desire his company. In short, I detested him. Consequently, his entry at the present moment the more astounded me. At once I divined that something out of the way was on the carpet. He entered with marked affability, and began by complimenting me on my room. Then, perceiving that I had my hat in my hands, he inquired whither I was going so early; and, no sooner did he hear that I was bound for Mr. Astley's than he stopped, looked grave, and seemed plunged in thought. He was a true Frenchman insofar as that, though he could be lively and engaging when it suited him, he became insufferably dull and wearisome as soon as ever the need for being lively and engaging had passed. Seldom is a Frenchman NATURALLY ...

10. Dostoevsky. The Brothers Karamazov (English. Братья Карамазовы). Part IV. Book XI. Ivan. Chapter 8. The Third and Last Interview with Smerdyakov

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Часть текста: 8 The Third and Last Interview with Smerdyakov WHEN he was half-way there, the keen dry wind that had been blowing early that morning rose again, and a fine dry snow began falling thickly. It did not lie on the ground, but was whirled about by the wind, and soon there was a regular snowstorm. There were scarcely any lamp-posts in the part of the town where Smerdyakov lived. Ivan strode alone in the darkness, unconscious of the storm, instinctively picking out his way. His head ached and there was a painful throbbing in his temples. He felt that his hands were twitching convulsively. Not far from Marya Kondratyevna's cottage, Ivan suddenly came upon a solitary drunken little peasant. He was wearing a coarse and patched coat, and was walking in zigzags, grumbling and swearing to himself. Then suddenly he would begin singing in a husky drunken voice: Ach, Vanka's gone to Petersburg; I won't wait till he comes back. But he broke off every time at the second line and began swearing again; then he would begin the same song again. Ivan felt an intense hatred for him before he had thought about him at all. Suddenly he realised his presence and felt an irresistible impulse to knock him down. At that moment they met, and the peasant with a violent lurch fell full tilt against Ivan, who pushed him back furiously. The peasant went flying backwards and fell like a log on the frozen ground. He uttered one plaintive "O -- oh!" and then was silent. Ivan stepped up to him. He was lying on his back, without movement or consciousness....

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "TONE"

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Cлово "TONE"