The party ended late.
Vasya Chesnokov, tired and perspiring, with an executive bow on his tunic, stood in front of Mashenka and spoke in an imploring tone:
Wait, my joy... Wait for the first tram. Where are you, by God, really ... Here you can sit, and wait, and all that, but you go ... Wait for the first tram, by God. And then you, for example, sweating, and I sweating ... So after all, you can fall ill in the cold ...
No, - said Mashenka, putting on galoshes. - And what kind of gentleman are you who cannot see a lady out in the cold?
So I'm sweating, - said Vasya, almost crying.
Well, wake up!
Basya Chesnokov dutifully put on a fur coat and went out with Mashenka into the street, firmly taking her by the arm.
It was cold. Luminous light. And the snow crunched underfoot.
Oh, what a restless lady you are, - said Vasya Chesnokov, admiringly examining Mashenka's profile. - If it weren't for you, and the other one, I wouldn't go to see you off for anything. Here, by God, really. Only because of love and went.
Mashenka laughed.
Here you are laughing and baring your teeth, - said Vasya, - but I really, Marya Vasilievna, adore and love you dearly. Tell me: lie down, Vasya Chesnokov, on tram track, on the rails and lie down to the first tram - and I will lie down. Oh god...
Come on, - said Mashenka, - look better, what a wonderful beauty is around when the moon is shining. Which beautiful city at night! What a wonderful beauty!
Yes, wonderful beauty, - said Vasya, looking with some amazement at the peeling plaster of the house. - Indeed, very beautiful ... That beauty, too, Marya Vasilyevna, works if you really have feelings ... Many scientists and party people deny feelings of love, but I, Marya Vasilyevna, do not deny it. I can have feelings for you until death and self-sacrifice. By God ... Tell me: hit, Vasya Chesnokov, with the back of your head against that wall - I'll hit.
Well, let's go, - said Mashenka, not without pleasure.
Oh god, I'm going to hit. Would you like?
The couple went to the Kryukov Canal.
By God, - Vasya said again, - do you want to throw myself into the canal? And, Marya Vasilievna? You don't believe me, but I can prove...
Vasya Chesnokov took hold of the railing and pretended to climb.
Oh! Mashenka screamed. - Vasya! What do you!
Some gloomy figure suddenly emerged from around the corner and stopped at the lantern.
What broke? the figure said quietly, examining the couple in detail.
Masha screamed in horror and clung to the bars.
The man came closer and pulled Vasya Chesnokov by the sleeve.
Well, you, mymra, - the man said in a dull voice. - Take off your coat. Yes alive. And if you make a sound, I'll hit the bulldozer, and you're gone. Got it, you bastard? Throw it off!
Pa-pa-pa, - said Vasya, wanting to say by this: excuse me, how is it?
Well! - the man pulled the fur coat overboard.
Vasya unbuttoned his fur coat with trembling hands and took it off.
And take off your boots too! - said the man. - I need boots.
Pa-pa-pa, - said Vasya, - let me ... frost ...
You don’t touch the lady, but take off your boots for me, ”Vasya said in an offended tone,“ she has both a fur coat and galoshes, and I take off my boots.
The man calmly looked at Mashenka and said:
Take it off, carry it in a bundle - and fall asleep.
I know what I'm doing. Stripped off?
Mashenka looked at the man in horror and did not move. Vasya Chesnokov sat down on the snow and began unlacing his boots.
She has a fur coat, - Vasya said again, - and galoshes, and I take the rap for everyone ...
The man put on Vasya's fur coat, stuffed his boots into his pockets, and said:
Sit and don't move and don't prick with your teeth. And if you shout or move, you are gone. Got it, you bastard?
And you, lady...
The man hurriedly wrapped his fur coat and suddenly disappeared.
Vasya was limp, sour and sacked, sitting in the snow, looking in disbelief at his feet in white socks.
We waited,” he said, glancing angrily at Mashenka. - I'll see her off, I'll lose my property. Yes?
When the robber's footsteps became completely inaudible, Vasya Chesnokov suddenly shifted his feet in the snow and shouted in a shrill, shrill voice:
Guard! Robbery!
Then he took off and ran across the snow, jumping up and down in horror and twitching his legs. Mashenka remained at the grate.
The party ended late.Vasya Chesnokov, tired and sweaty, with a manager's bow on his tunic, stood in front of Mashenka and spoke in an imploring tone:
Wait, my joy... Wait for the first tram. Where are you, by God, really ... Here you can sit, and wait, and all that, and you go. Wait for the first tram, by golly. And then you, for example, sweat, and I sweat ... So after all, you can fall ill in the cold ...
No, - said Mashenka, putting on galoshes. - And what kind of gentleman are you who cannot see a lady out in the cold?
So I'm sweating, - said Vasya, almost crying.
Well, get dressed!
Vasya Chesnokov dutifully put on a fur coat and went out with Masha into the street, firmly taking her by the arm.
It was cold. The moon shone. And the snow crunched underfoot.
Oh, what a restless lady you are, - said Vasya Chesnokov, admiringly examining Mashenka's profile. Here, by God, really. Only because of love and went.
Mashenka laughed.
Here you are laughing and baring your teeth, - said Vasya, - but I really, Marya Vasilyevna, adore and love you dearly. Tell me: lie down, Vasya Chesnokov, on the tram track, on the rails and lie down to the first tram - and I will lie down. Oh god...
Come on, - said Mashenka, - look better, what a wonderful beauty is around when the moon is shining. What a beautiful city at night! What a wonderful beauty!
Yes, wonderful beauty,” said Vasya, looking with some astonishment at the peeling plaster of the house. “Indeed, very beautiful ... Beauty, too, Marya Vasilievna, works if you really nurture feelings ... Here are many scientists and party people they deny feelings of love, but I, Marya Vasilievna, do not deny them. I can have feelings for you until death and self-sacrifice. By God ... Tell me: hit, Vasya Chesnokov, with the back of your head against that wall - I will hit.
Well, let's go, - said Mashenka, not without pleasure.
Oh god, I'm going to hit. Would you like?
The couple went to the Kryukov Canal.
By God, - Vasya said again, - do you want to throw myself into the canal? And, Marya Vasilievna? You don't believe me, but I can prove...
Vasya Chesnokov took hold of the railing and pretended to climb.
Oh! - Shouted Mashenka. - Vasya! What do you!
Some gloomy figure suddenly emerged from around the corner and stopped at the lantern.
What broke? the figure said quietly, examining the couple in detail.
Mashenka screamed in horror and clung to the bars.
The man came closer and pulled Vasya Chesnokov by the sleeve.
Well, you, mumra, - said the man in a dull voice. - Throw off your coat. Yes alive. And if you make a sound, I'll hit the bulldozer, and you're gone. Got it, you bastard? Throw it off!
Pa-pa-pa, - said Vasya, wanting to say by this: excuse me, how is it?
Well! - the man pulled the fur coat overboard.
Vasya unbuttoned his fur coat with trembling hands and took it off.
And take off your boots, too, - said the man. - I need boots too.
Pa-pa-pa, - said Vasya, - let me ... frost ..
You don’t touch the lady, but take off your boots for me, ”Vasya said in an offended tone,“ she has both a fur coat and galoshes, and I take off my boots.
The man calmly looked at Mashenka and said:
You take it off, carry it in a knot - and fall asleep. I know what I'm doing. Stripped off?
Mashenka looked at the man in horror and did not move. Vasya Chesnokov sat down on the snow and began unlacing his boots.
She has a fur coat, - Vasya said again, - and galoshes, and I take the rap for everyone ...
The man put on Vasya's fur coat, stuffed his boots into his pockets, and said:
Sit and don't move, and don't prick with your teeth. And if you shout or move, you are gone. Got it, you bastard? And you, lady...
The man hurriedly wrapped his fur coat and suddenly disappeared.
Vasya was limp, sour and sacked, sitting in the snow, looking in disbelief at his feet in white socks.
We waited,” he said, looking angrily at Mashenka. “I’ll see her off, I’ll lose my property.” Yes?
When the steps of the robber became completely inaudible, Vasya Chesnokov suddenly shifted his feet in the snow and shouted in a thin, piercing voice:
Guard! Robbery!
Then he took off and ran through the snow, jumping up and down in horror and twitching his legs. Mashenka remained at the bars.
Read texts of short storiesMikhail M. Zoshchenko
Love
The party ended late.
Vasya Chesnokov, tired and perspiring, with an executive bow on his tunic, stood in front of Mashenka and spoke in an imploring tone:
Wait, my joy... Wait for the first tram. Where are you, by God, really ... Here you can sit, and wait, and all that, but you go ... Wait for the first tram, by God. And then you, for example, sweating, and I sweating ... So after all, you can fall ill in the cold ...
No, - said Mashenka, putting on galoshes. - And what kind of gentleman are you who cannot see a lady out in the cold?
So I'm sweating, - said Vasya, almost crying.
Well, get dressed!
Vasya Chesnokov dutifully put on a fur coat and went out with Masha into the street, firmly taking her by the arm.
It was cold. The moon shone. And the snow crunched underfoot.
Oh, what a restless lady you are, - said Vasya Chesnokov, admiringly examining Mashenka's profile. - If it weren't for you, and the other one, I wouldn't go to see you off for anything. Here, by God, really. Only because of love and went.
Mashenka laughed.
Here you are laughing and baring your teeth, - said Vasya, - but I really, Marya Vasilievna, adore and love you dearly. Tell me: lie down, Vasya Chesnokov, on the tram track, on the rails and lie down to the first tram - and I will lie down. Oh god...
- Come on, - said Mashenka, - look better, what a wonderful beauty is around when the moon is shining. What a beautiful city at night! What a wonderful beauty!
Yes, wonderful beauty, - said Vasya, looking with some amazement at the peeling plaster of the house. - Indeed, very beautiful ... That beauty, too, Marya Vasilyevna, works if you really have feelings ... Many scientists and party people deny feelings of love, but I, Marya Vasilyevna, do not deny it. I can have feelings for you until my death and self-sacrifice. By God ... Tell me: hit, Vasya Chesnokov, with the back of your head against that wall - I'll hit.
Well, let's go, - said Mashenka, not without pleasure.
Oh god, I'm going to hit. Would you like?
The couple went to the Kryukov Canal.
By God, - Vasya said again, - do you want to throw myself into the canal? And, Marya Vasilievna? You don't believe me, but I can prove...
Vasya Chesnokov took hold of the railing and pretended to climb.
Oh! Mashenka screamed. - Vasya! What do you!
Some gloomy figure suddenly emerged from around the corner and stopped at the lantern.
What broke? the figure said quietly, examining the couple in detail.
Masha screamed in horror and clung to the bars. The man came closer and pulled Vasya Chesnokov by the sleeve.
Well, you, mymra, - the man said in a dull voice. - Take off your coat. Yes alive. And if you make a sound, I'll hit the bulldozer, and you're gone. Got it, you bastard? Throw it off!
Pa-pa-pa, - said Vasya, wanting to say by this: excuse me, how is it?
Well! - The man pulled the fur coat overboard.
Vasya unbuttoned his fur coat with trembling hands and took it off.
And take off your boots too! - said the man. - I need boots.
Pa-pa-pa, - said Vasya, - let me ... frost ...
You don’t touch the lady, but take off your boots for me, ”Vasya said in an offended tone,“ she has both a fur coat and galoshes, and I take off my boots.
The man calmly looked at Mashenka and said:
Take it off, carry it in a bundle - and fall asleep. I know what I'm doing. Stripped off?
Mashenka looked at the man in horror and did not move. Vasya Chesnokov sat down on the snow and began unlacing his boots.
She has a fur coat, - Vasya said again, - and galoshes, and I take the rap for everyone ...
The man put on Vasya's fur coat, stuffed his boots into his pockets, and said:
Sit and don't move and don't prick with your teeth. And if you shout or move, you are gone. Got it, you bastard? And you, lady...
The man hurriedly wrapped his fur coat and suddenly disappeared. Vasya was limp, sour and sacked, sitting in the snow, looking in disbelief at his feet in white socks.
We waited,” he said, glancing angrily at Mashenka. - I'll see her off, I'll lose my property. Yes?
When the robber's footsteps became completely inaudible, Vasya Chesnokov suddenly shifted his feet in the snow and shouted in a thin, piercing voice:
Guard! Robbery!
Then he took off and ran across the snow, jumping up and down in horror and twitching his legs. Mashenka remained at the grate.
Groom
Egorka Basov got married the other day. He took a woman for himself, healthy, muzzy, five pounds in weight. Generally lucky man.
Before that, Yegorka Basov had been a widower for three years - no one followed him. And Yegorka got married to almost everyone. Even to the lame soldier from Mestechko. Yes, the case was upset because of trifles.
Yegorka Basov liked to talk about this matchmaking. At the same time, he lied incredibly, each time reporting new and surprising details.
All the peasants knew this story by heart, but at every opportunity they begged Yegorka to tell him first, choking with laughter in advance.
So how did you, Yegorka, get married? the men asked, winking.
Yes, that’s right, ”said Yegorka,“ he messed up.
Hurry up, right?
I hurried, - said Yegorka. - The time was, of course, hot - here and mow, here and carry, and collect bread. And here, my brothers, my woman is dying. Today, let's say, she collapsed, but tomorrow she's worse. He rushes about, and raves, and falls from the stove.
Well, - I tell her, - thank you, Katerina Vasilievna, you cut me without a knife. Decided not to die at the right time. Be patient, I say, until autumn, and die in autumn.
And she brushes it off.
Well, I called, of course, the doctor. For a pood of oats. The doctor poured oats into his bag and says:
Medicine, he says, is powerless to do anything. Not otherwise than your butterfly is dying.
From what, I ask, disease? Sorry for the indiscreet question.
This, he says, is again unknown to medicine.
All the same, the doctor gave powders and left.
We put powders behind the image - it doesn't help. Brandit is a woman, and rushes about, and falls from the stove. And dies at night.
I howled, of course. Time, I think, is hot - here you can wear it, here you can mow it, but without a woman it is unthinkable. What to do is unknown. And if, for example, to marry, then again, whom is it to marry? Which, maybe, would have gone, but it’s embarrassing for her hastily. And I need it fast.
I pawned the horse, put on new trousers, washed my feet and rode off.
I'm coming to the town. I go to friends.
Time, - I say, - is hot, you don’t have to talk much, isn’t it, - I say, - among you there is some kind of seedy butterfly, even a little blind. I am interested, - I say, - in marriage.
There are, - they say, - of course, but the time is hot, no one is interested in marriage. Go, - they say, - to Anisya, to the soldier's, maybe you will break off that one.
So I went.
I'm coming. I look - a woman is sitting on a chest and scratching her leg.
Hello, I say. - Stop, - I say, - scratching your leg - it's there.
This, - answers, - one does not interfere with the other.
Well, - I say, - the time is hot, I don’t have much to argue with you, you and I - there are two of us, a third is not required, we’ll turn around, - I say, - and tomorrow go to work to knit sheaves.
You can, - he says, - if you are interested in me.
I looked at her. I see - the butterfly is nothing that is needed, dense and can work.
Yes, - I say, - I'm interested, of course. But, - I say, - answer me, all the same as on the questionnaire, how old are you?
And years, - answers, - not so much as it seems. My summers are not counted. And the year of birth, to say - do not lie, one thousand eight hundred and eighty-six.
Well, - I say, - the time is hot, you don’t have to count for a long time. If you're not lying, then fine.
No, - he says, - I'm not lying, God will punish you for lying. Gather, right?
Yes, I say, get ready. Do you have many things?
Little things, - he says, - not so much: a hole in his pocket and a louse on the lasso. Chest and feather bed.
We took a chest and a feather bed on a cart. I grabbed another pot and two logs, and off we went.
I’m driving a horse, in a hurry, and my butterfly is shaking on the chest and deciding plans - how she will live and what she will cook, but it wouldn’t hurt, they say, to go to the bathhouse - she hasn’t gone for three years.
Finally arrived.
Get out, I say.
A butterfly gets out of the cart. Yes, I look, it somehow uninteresting crawls out - sideways and seems to be limping on both legs. Fu-you, I think, what nonsense!
What are you, - I say, - a butterfly, you seem to be lame?
No, - he says, - I'm just flirting.
How about, please, right? This is a serious matter if you are lame. I, - I say, - do not need to limp in the household.
No, - he says, - it's a little on the left leg. Half the top, - he says, - everything and the lack.
Paul, - I say, - an inch or an inch, - this, - I say, - is not speech. Time, - I say, - is hot - it is not necessary to measure. But, I say, this is unthinkable. You will carry this and water - you will splash it. Sorry, I say, I messed up.
No, he says, the matter is closed.
No, I say, I can't. Everything, - I say, - fits: I like your muzzle, and summer - one thousand eight hundred and eighty-six, but I can’t. Sorry - blinked his leg.
Here the butterfly began to scream and curse, to fight, of course, climbed, not without it. In the meantime, I'm taking out the property gently in the yard.
She went to me once or twice in the face - she didn’t count, and then she says:
Well, - says, - pod, your luck to have noticed. Take it, - he says, - back.
We got into the cart and drove off.
We just hadn’t reached, maybe seven versts, when a terrible rage took me.
“The time, I think, is hot, you don’t have to talk much, but here you are welcome to take the brides home.”
I threw off her property from the cart and see what will happen. But the butterfly did not sit still and jumped off after the property. And I turned the filly - and towards the forest.
And that was the end of the matter.
How she got home with a chest and a feather bed, I do not know. But just arrived. And a year later she got married. And now on the loose.
1924
* * *
Have you read the texts different stories Mikhail M. Zoshchenko, Russian (Soviet) writer, classic of satire and humor, known for his funny stories, satirical works and novels. During his life, Mikhail Zoshchenko wrote many humorous texts, with elements of irony, satire, and folklore.This collection contains the best stories of Zoshchenko different years: "Aristocrat", "On live bait", "Honest citizen", "Bath", "Nervous people", "Charms of culture", "Cat and people", "Marriage of convenience" and others. Many years have passed, but we still laugh when we read these stories, written by the great master of satire and humor, M.M. Zoshchenko. His prose has long become an integral part of the classics of Russian (Soviet) literature and culture.
This site contains, perhaps, all the stories of Zoshchenko (content on the left), which you can always read online and once again be surprised by the talent of this writer unlike others and laugh at his stupid and funny characters (just don't confuse them with the author himself :)
Thank you for reading!
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Copyright: Mikhail Mikhailovich Zoshchenko
Born July 29 (August 9), 1894 in St. Petersburg in the artist's family. As a child, he began to write poetry and stories.
In 1913 Zoshchenko entered the Faculty of Law Petersburg University, but a year later he was expelled due to non-payment of tuition. In 1915, Zoshchenko volunteered for the front, commanded a battalion, and became a holder of 4 military orders. literary work however, did not stop. In 1917, Zoshchenko was demobilized due to heart disease that arose after gas poisoning, and returned to Petrograd.
In 1918, despite his illness, Zoshchenko volunteered for the Red Army.
Returning in 1919 to Petrograd, he earned a living, different professions- a shoemaker, a carpenter, a carpenter, an actor, a rabbit breeding instructor, a policeman, a criminal investigation officer, etc.
In 1920–1921 Zoshchenko began to publish.
By the mid-1920s, Zoshchenko had become one of the most popular writers. The stories "Bath", "Aristocrat", "History of the disease" and others, which he himself often read to numerous audiences, were known and loved in all sectors of society.
Zoshchenko died in Leningrad on July 22, 1958. He was not allowed to be buried in Leningrad, he was buried in Sestroretsk.
LOVE (story, 1924)
The party ended late.
Vasya Chesnokov, tired and sweaty, with a manager's bow on his tunic, stood in front of Mashenka and spoke in an imploring tone:
- Wait, my joy ... Wait for the first tram. Where are you, by God, really ... Here you can sit, and wait, and all that, and you go. Wait for the first tram, by golly. And then you, for example, sweat, and I sweat ... So after all, you can fall ill in the cold ...
- No, - said Mashenka, putting on galoshes. - And what kind of gentleman are you who cannot see a lady out in the cold?
- So I'm sweating, - said Vasya, almost crying.
- Well, get dressed!
Vasya Chesnokov dutifully put on a fur coat and went out with Masha into the street, firmly taking her by the arm.
It was cold. The moon shone. And the snow crunched underfoot.
- Oh, what a restless lady you are, - said Vasya Chesnokov, admiringly examining Mashenka's profile. Here, by God, really. Only because of love and went.
Mashenka laughed.
- Here you are laughing and baring your teeth, - said Vasya, - but I really, Marya Vasilyevna, dearly adore and love you. Tell me: lie down, Vasya Chesnokov, on the tram track, on the rails and lie down to the first tram - and I will lie down. Oh god...
- Come on, - said Mashenka, - look better, what a wonderful beauty is around when the moon is shining. What a beautiful city at night! What a wonderful beauty!
"Yes, wonderful beauty," said Vasya, looking with some astonishment at the peeling plaster of the house. people deny feelings of love, but I, Marya Vasilievna, do not. I can have feelings for you until death and self-sacrifice. By God ... Tell me: hit, Vasya Chesnokov, with the back of your head against that wall - I will hit.
"Well, let's go," said Masha, not without pleasure.
- Oh my God, I'm going to hit. Would you like?
The couple went to the Kryukov Canal.
“Honest to God,” Vasya said again, “do you want to throw myself into the canal?” And, Marya Vasilievna? You don't believe me, but I can prove...
Vasya Chesnokov took hold of the railing and pretended to climb.
- Ah! - Shouted Mashenka. - Vasya! What do you!
Some gloomy figure suddenly emerged from around the corner and stopped at the lantern.
- What broke? the figure said quietly, examining the couple in detail.
Mashenka screamed in horror and clung to the bars.
The man came closer and pulled Vasya Chesnokov by the sleeve.
- Well, you, mymra, - the man said in a hollow voice. - Throw off your coat. Yes alive. And if you make a sound, I'll hit the bulldozer, and you're gone. Got it, you bastard? Throw it off!
- Pa-pa-pa, - said Vasya, wanting to say by this: excuse me, how is it?
- Well! - the man pulled the fur coat overboard.
Vasya unbuttoned his fur coat with trembling hands and took it off.
- And take off your boots, too, - said the man. - I need boots too.
- Pa-pa-pa, - said Vasya, - let me ... frost ..
- Well!
“Don’t touch the lady, but take off my boots,” Vasya said in a touchy tone, “she has both a fur coat and galoshes, and I take off my boots.”
The man calmly looked at Mashenka and said:
- Take it off, carry it in a bundle - and fall asleep. I know what I'm doing. Stripped off?
Mashenka looked at the man in horror and did not move. Vasya Chesnokov sat down on the snow and began unlacing his boots.
“She has a fur coat,” Vasya said again, “and galoshes, and I take the rap for everyone ...
The man put on Vasya's fur coat, stuffed his boots into his pockets, and said:
- Sit and don't move, and don't prick with your teeth. And if you shout or move, you are gone. Got it, you bastard? And you, lady...
The man hurriedly wrapped his fur coat and suddenly disappeared.
Vasya was limp, sour and sacked, sitting in the snow, looking in disbelief at his feet in white socks.
“Wait,” he said, looking angrily at Mashenka. “I’ll see her off, I’ll lose my property.” Yes?
When the steps of the robber became completely inaudible, Vasya Chesnokov suddenly shifted his feet in the snow and shouted in a thin, piercing voice:
- Guard! Robbery!
Then he took off and ran through the snow, jumping up and down in horror and twitching his legs. Mashenka remained at the bars.
1. That's when the lady of death comes with inaudible feet to our headboard and, saying "aha", begins to take away a precious and still sweet life - we will probably most of all regret the one feeling that we will have to lose in this case. Of all the wondrous phenomena and feelings scattered by the generous hand of nature, I think it will probably be the most pitiful thing for us to part with love. and will begin to humiliate herself, saying that she has not yet seen everything that can be seen, and that she would like to see something else from this. But this is nonsense. She saw everything. And these are empty excuses that depict the greatness of our feelings and aspirations rather than anything else.3. Of course, besides this, there are various exceptional and worthy occasions and feelings, about which we, too, will probably sigh bitterly at parting. We, no doubt, will be sorry not to hear spiritual and spiritual music. symphony orchestras, do not swim, for example, by sea on a steamboat and do not collect fragrant lilies of the valley in the forest. It will be very sad for us to leave our glorious work and not lie on the seashore in order to rest. Yes, these are all glorious things, and we, of course, will regret all this, too, when we part. And maybe even cry. But special and bitterest tears will be shed about love. And when we say goodbye to this feeling, before us, probably, the whole world will fade in its grandeur, and it will seem to us empty, cold and of little interest. As one poet says: Love adorns life Love is the charm of nature. replacing love is insignificant. You see, the French poet Musset said that everything is insignificant in comparison with this feeling. But, of course, he was partly wrong. He, of course, slightly intercepted over the edge.4. Moreover, we must not forget that these lines were said by a Frenchman. That is, a person by nature is extremely sensual and, forgive me, probably a womanizer, who, from his excessively agitated feelings, can really blurt out God knows what from this area. They, the French, will go out to the boulevard in the evening , and, apart from various beauties, whom they call "chickens", at first they see absolutely nothing else. That's what they are lovers female beauty and grace! .. So we have reason to slightly extinguish the amazing ardor of these poetic lines.5. But look at the Russian poet. So the Russian poet does not lag behind the ardent Gallic mind. And even more. Not only about love, but even about falling in love, these are the amazing lines we find in him: Oh love, you are stricter than fate, More commanding than the ancient laws of the fathers ... Sweeter than the sounds of a military trumpet. From which we can conclude that our illustrious poet considered this feeling to be something higher on earth, for something that cannot even be equaled by a line of criminal laws, or orders from a father or mother. Nothing, in a word, he says, affected him in comparison with this feeling. The poet even hints at something here about conscription for military service - that this, too, seemed to be nothing to him. In general, the poet apparently harbored something in his mind. He spoke allegorically about the military trumpet and immediately obscured it. Probably, he once said something from military service. That's probably why he set off on allegory. In this sense, it's much easier to deal with prose. There can be no such nebulae in prose. Everything is clear there. And yet, poetry, as you see, can be explained.6. In another Russian poet, we also find no less strong lines. This poet, it must be said, once burned down the house in which he was born and where he spent better days of his childhood. And it is curious to see how this poet consoled himself after the fire. He talks about it like this. He describes it in a poem. Here is how he writes: It seemed that all the joys of childhood Burned down in the lost house, And I wanted to die, And I leaned towards the water, But the woman in the boat slipped By the second reflection of the moon, And if she wishes, And if the moon allows, I will build myself a new house In an unknown heart her. And so on, something like that.7. That is, in other words, making a free translation from proud poetry to democratic prose, one can partly understand that the poet, mad with grief, wanted to throw himself into the water, but in this very critical moment he suddenly saw a pretty woman riding in a boat. And so he unexpectedly fell in love with her at first sight, and this love covered, so to speak, all his incredible suffering and even temporarily distracted him from worries about finding himself new apartment. Moreover, the poet, judging by the poem, apparently simply wants to seem to move in with this lady. Or he wants to make some kind of extension in her house, if, as he vaguely says, she wishes, and if the moon and house management allow. Well, about the moon - the poet dragged it in to enhance, perhaps, a poetic impression. The moon, one might say, has little to do with it. As for the house management, of course, it may not allow it, even if the lady in the boat herself wishes it, since these lovers are not registered and in general, maybe there is some kind of unacceptable combination here. That is, I don’t know, maybe our rough soldier’s mind, fired upon by heavy artillery in two wars, does not quite understand the finest and most delicate poetic interweaving of lines and feelings. But we dare to think approximately so thanks to some knowledge of life and understanding of the urgent needs of people whose life is not all time is running in the course of flowery poetry. In short, the poet here also speaks of love as the highest feeling, which, with a certain amount of frivolity, can replace the most essential things for a person, even up to apartment affairs. What last statement we leave entirely on the conscience of the poet. But this, of course, is not the opinion of only three ardent poets. And all the rest, too, rattling, as they say, even on the most rattling lyres, love words, even more striking and shameless than these.9. Something like this comes to mind from Apukhtin: The heart has risen, loving again, Tram-ta-ra-ram, tam-tam ... Everything that is dear, holy in the soul ... Tram-ta-ra-ram ... And it was not written by a boy of about eighteen. And this was written by a respectable uncle of about forty-eight, very incredibly fat and unhappy in his personal life. Nevertheless, as you can see, he also believes that everything is dead and lifeless until love arose in his heart. Here are some frantic lines that come to mind: What is love? O love! Oh love! This is the sun in the blood, this is the blood in the flame... Something like that, damn it... yes... This is a paradise, found again. Death reigns over the world, and love reigns over death.10. Here even French poetry , perhaps a little behind - they, one might say, do not have such a frenzied onslaught, as, for example, in these lines. And this was written by a Russian poetess. She lived at the beginning of our century and was, they say, quite interesting. In any case, with great poetic temperament. In general, the lady, you see, was trembling when she composed this poem. The fact, one might say, is more, of course, biographical than an example of poetry ... Poor husband must have been hit hard ... Probably capricious. The fool is playing. The whole day, probably, lying in bed with an unwashed muzzle. And he reads his poems aloud all the time. And the foolish husband sits: "Oh, - exclaims, - this is amazing, navel, brilliant!" And she says: "Really?"... Fools! And then they took it and both died. She seems to be from tuberculosis, and he, too, must have been infected with something.11. Here, no doubt, many skeptics, scientists and pedants, whose hearts have iced over in lonely wanderings through the polar countries of science, having read these poetic lines, perhaps shrug their shoulders and say: they say, this is some kind of immoderate opinion of some too ardent hearts, cheeky souls and a perverse outlook. And they will be surprised that there is such an opinion about this feeling, and such verses, and such words that they did not know at all, and did not even allow the thought that anything like this had ever been And, perhaps, it’s true, it’s surprising that this is so and that we have such poetry, but one prose book recently fell into our hands. Its author is a singer. Fedor Ivanovich Chaliapin. So in this book he admits with complete frankness that everything he did in his life, he did mainly for love and for a woman. These are the opinions about the love of poetically minded people.12. As for sober and reasonable people, as for philosophers and various thinkers, whose minds have shed much light on the most mysterious and complex phenomena of life, as for these people, in general they said little about this feeling, but sometimes , of course, they reckoned with him, laughed at him, and even uttered at another time some aphorisms of their worldly wisdom. Of the more melancholy sayings, we can, if you like, quote to you the words of Schopenhauer, one of the most gloomy philosophers the world has ever known. This gloomy the philosopher, whose wife undoubtedly cheated on him at every turn, said these words about love: "Love is a blind will to live. It lures a person with the ghosts of individual happiness and makes him an instrument for his own purposes." 13. From the more stupid old sayings, we can cite the following: "Love is like a combination of heavenly sounds." From the more poetic: "You can never hit a woman, even with a flower." advantages that the lover appreciates the more, the less he owns them. "The notorious philosopher Plato even proposed the following theorem:" The essence of love lies in the polar difference of the greatest possible opposites. : The time has come, she fell in love. So the fallen grain of Spring was revived with fire. But this is, so to speak, the philosophy and mechanics of love. As for more precise research in this area, we know little about it. And maybe you don't even need to know about it. Since consciousness spoils and darkens almost everything it touches. As Dostoevsky very correctly said: "Too much consciousness and even any consciousness is a disease." And another poet said: "Woe from the mind." And we believe that this phrase was not said by chance. In general, how love arises - whether from psychic ideas or most likely there is some exact formula from the unknown field of electricity - we do not know and definitely do not want to know. So, realizing that we know little about love, but at the same time recognizing something important and even grandiose behind this tender feeling, we take the heavy volumes of history into our hands with special trepidation and heartfelt excitement. We want to quickly see the worthy role that this feeling played in the life of peoples. We want to see grandiose events that happened because of love, or there magnificent deeds of individual citizens. We know what we want to see. And therefore, in order to indulge our souls, we sit comfortably in an armchair and, lighting a fragrant cigar, begin to turn over the yellowed pages of history with a confident hand. And this is what we see there. At first, all some goddamn petty love affairs and nonsense, nonsense affairs from Everyday life- there are various marriages, proposals and weddings concluded by businesslike and reasonable minds. Here, we see, some kind of duke ... Something like that ... He marries the daughter of the king, having hopes for the throne. a person, wishing to cut a number of cities to his possessions, also makes an offer to some fit princess ... Russian grand dukes ... Something like that ... From the era Tatar yoke... "They strive (as the historian writes) to marry the daughters of the khan in order to ingratiate themselves with his location ..." Here's another, imagine, Chilperic I ... The Frankish king ... Marries the daughter of the king Spanish ... As history literally writes: "in order to strike a blow to his enemy, Prince Siegebert."16. Moreover, historians write about these love affairs on a commercial lining without any, one might say, enthusiasm, in a sort of languid clerical tone, as about the most empty, familiar objects. Historians do not even add any exclamations from themselves, like there: "Ai-yay!", Or "That's the prince", or "Fu, how ugly!", Or at least "Look, another scoundrel more!" No, nothing such impartial historians do not exclaim. Although, it is true, if you start exclaiming, then, perhaps, no exclamations will be enough, since in the course of world history we see a whole sea of \u200b\u200bsuch cases. But we, perhaps, will not list these commercial enterprises in detail. We want to touch more interesting questions. Although, of course, in this area, too, there were various striking cases and anecdotes worthy of the attention of the modern reader.17. Here is a very funny fact. We liked it for its, so to speak, clarity of the plot. It is very characteristic, that fact. It is taken from ancient Russian life. From the era of Ivan the Terrible. And at that time a German duke, a certain Holstein, came to Russia. It is not known what he did there in this Germany of his, only historians became aware that he arrived in Russia in order to marry his daughter for political reasons cousin Ivan IV. And so he arrived. Probably overdressed. Some silk pants. Bows. Tapes. The sword on the side is probably long-knit. A sort of muzzle is red, with red mustaches. A drunkard, maybe a screamer and a hand. So he arrived in Russia, and, since everything had already been agreed in writing, they immediately scheduled a wedding.18. Well, fuss, probably, swindle. Mom is running. Chickens are cut. The bride is taken to the bath. The groom is sitting with his father. Swishing vodka. Lying, probably from three boxes. Say, here in Germany... Say, we are dukes, and all that. And now such a rather sad thing happens. The bride, alas, dies unexpectedly. She, poor thing, returns from the bathhouse, gets a damn cold and dies within three days. The groom, of course, in indescribable grief, wants to go back to Germany. And in disheveled feelings he is already saying goodbye to his relatives, when suddenly they say to him: - Comrade Duke! Feel free to leave. We also, fortunately for you, have one young lady. Her sister. She really older than that, and she is less interesting of herself, but still, maybe she will suit you. Moreover, such a path was made from Germany - it's a shame to return with a bare nose. The Duke says: - Of course, it will do. Why were you silent before? Obviously it will fit. What are we talking about! Well, show me. In general, despite the mourning, the wedding was soon played.19. But maybe, damn it, such facts and actions happened only among kings and among dukes? Maybe only in the royal halls there was such rude prudence and marriage without any love, due to the force there, maybe, different, well, I don’t know , diplomacy, chronic lack of money, or the unimportant conditions of royal life there. Maybe, for mere mortals, just the opposite: love flowed naturally, and did it amuse and delight the hearts of others? This question will have to be answered in the negative. Some categories of mere mortals generally seemed not for love. As you know, the ruling lords married their faithful slaves as they pleased. We recently read that Russian landowners very often married their peasants in this way: they lined up their peasants in height and recorded them with anyone: tall peasants - with tall women, low - with low. And such a record was sent to the priest for execution. Here, one might say, there was no time for love. And as for various officials, speculators, bagmen, and so on, these gentlemen also, apparently, understood little about love . Their marriages were sort of like commercial affairs. And without a dowry, they didn’t have the habit of walking at all.20. Well, if we touch upon the life of a higher flight and take different counts, barons and merchants there, then these gentlemen, for all their idle lives, also had little idea of what color love is. there were. In France, under Louis XV (1720), a speculator amassed a huge fortune through dark scams. He has achieved everything. And he had everything. But he still wanted by all means to intermarry with the most ancient an aristocratic surname, - he flashed such a fantasy. And he, with his wealth, knowing no barriers, decided to marry his daughter to an impoverished marquis of famous surname d "Wow. And his daughter at that time was only three years old. And the marquis was about thirty. Moreover, the impoverished marquis, despite the largest dowry, had no intention of waiting for twelve years at all. Gracefully spreading his arms and sparkling with a golden lorgnette, he probably , said to his father-speculator in a hoarse voice: "Listen, I would be glad to intermarry with you, and the amount suits me perfectly, but your bride is too small. Let her grow up a little, then it will be clear - I may be getting married. 21. But the ambitious father wished to immediately become a relative of the marquis. He thereby, so to speak, wanted to touch the highest aristocracy. And then he concluded such an agreement with the marquis. He pays the marquis a huge salary every month until the bride comes of age. In twelve years, the marquis undertakes to marry her. And now, for nine years, the marquis carefully received his salary and indulged in all the joys of life. And in the tenth year, the young, twelve-year-old bride, fell ill with diphtheria, died. Firstly, of course, the girl is insanely sorry, and secondly, just think how much money wasted in vain! And, of course, there is no hope of getting at least a particle back from Monsieur the Marquis. And he, probably rubbing his hands, said to the distressed dad: they say, about money, of course, you yourself understand. Once the girl has squandered - my happiness.22. But that's more! There were also more amazing cases on the love front. For example, it is very strange to read how men - various handsome men, barons, brave knights, cavaliers, merchants, landowners and kings - got married without seeing their brides. And it was a fairly common occurrence. And this is for us modern readers, to some extent surprising. They only found out what kind of affairs, and finances, and what property status the bride has, who dad serves or where he reigns - and that’s all. not a humpbacked one, and that’s all. They gave their consent and got married, so to speak, in the dark, behind the eyes. And the bride only in last moment seen. No, in our time - it's hard to even imagine how it could be with us! We would probably have screams, nervous cries, refusals, confusion, scuffle and the devil knows what. And there somehow it managed.23. Of course, there were troubles and outrages. For example, two of the world's scandals are known. One is a famous case that even in theaters is played as a monstrous tragedy and drama from royal life. Philip II of Spain, an old man of about sixty, decided to marry his son and heir, the famous Don Carlos. He decided to marry him to the French princess Isabella, which was beneficial and necessary, according to high politics. He himself did not see this princess. He knew that she was young and was striving to get married, but what kind of person she was, he did not know. But when, after the betrothal, he saw her, he fell in love with her and married her himself, to the great chagrin of his son, who was also not indifferent to his lovely bride . After that, as you know, there was a drama between father and son.24 The second case was in Persia. The Persian king Cambyses (son of the famous Cyrus) proposed to the daughter of the Egyptian pharaoh Amasis II (529 BC). Cambyses made this proposal without seeing the bride. At that time, traveling and moving was a very difficult matter. And it was necessary to spend several months on a trip to Egypt. And according to rumors, it became known that the daughter of the Egyptian pharaoh is distinguished by outstanding beauty and good looks. And here is the powerful Persian king, whose father conquered almost the whole world, took and sent an offer to the daughter of the Egyptian king. Pharaoh, who loved his only daughter extremely, did not want to let her go to unknown lands. But at the same time, he was afraid to offend the sovereign of the world by refusing. And then he chose the most beautiful girl from a slave and sent her to Persia instead of his daughter. Moreover, he sent her as his daughter, and for this purpose she was given the appropriate instruction. The story says that Cambyses, having married her, fell in love with her extremely, but when the deceit was accidentally revealed, he mercilessly killed her and, offended in the best feelings, went war on Egypt. It was perhaps one of the strongest love dramas from which one can see how love sometimes arises and how it ends.25. Ah, we vividly imagine this dramatic episode and this tragic moment when the whole deception was revealed! Here they are sitting, embracing, on a Persian ottoman. On a low bench are, imagine, oriental sweets and drinks - there is Turkish delight, gingerbread and so on. A sort of fat Persian with a fan in his hands drives away flies from these sweets. The Persian king Cambyses, having drunk a glass of some sheri brandy, admiringly admires his lovely wife and mutters various comforting words to her: they say, "Oh, you are my Egyptian girl! .. Well, how is it with you in Egypt?.. Papa Pharaoh must have spoiled you too much. your regal gait, and so on."26. Then either she relied on her feminine charms, or it’s already unknown what happened in her feminine heart, only she, laughing with a silvery laugh, said that, they say, what an absurd case: the pharaoh’s daughter exists on her own in Egypt, and he, the Persian king Cambyses, fell in love with her madly, having nothing to do with the daughter of the pharaoh. He fell in love with a simple slave girl. That's what love does to a man's heart. Here, without a shudder, one cannot imagine the next scene. He must have yelled in a wild voice. I jumped up from the sofa in my underpants. From one bare feet the shoe fell off. Lips whitened. Hands are shaking. The knees buckle. - How?! he shouted in Persian. - Repeat what you said! Lord ministers! Arrest the impudent one! Then the ministers came running. Ahah! What's happened? Calm down, Your Majesty! .. Look - you dropped your shoe from your foot, you lose your royal dignity. But, of course, it is not so easy to calm down, since a huge insult has been inflicted on self-esteem.27. And in the evening, after they hastily cut off the head of the unfortunate Egyptian, Cambyses probably conferred with the ministers for a long time. Waving his arms and worrying, he nervously walks around the room. - No, what a bastard Egyptian pharaoh, A? he exclaims indignantly. The ministers, sighing reverently, shake their heads and shrug their shoulders, exchanging malicious glances among themselves. “What am I going to do now, gentlemen, after such an insult? Should I go to war with this scoundrel? - Can I go to war, Your Majesty. - Only he, the dog, climbed far ... Egypt ... Africa ... It took almost a year to go there ... On camels, it seems, it is necessary ... - Nothing, your Majesty ... The troops will reach. - I caressed her, - again, irritated, said Cambyses. - I received her like an Egyptian princess, passionately fell in love, but this, it turns out, is not the same ... How, gentlemen? What am I, a dog, that his daughter is not available to me? He took and sent some riff-raff ... A? 28. The Minister of Foreign Affairs, restraining himself from an attack of internal laughter, says: - The main thing, Your Majesty, is a world scandal, sir ... - Exactly! .. I say - a scandal. Ay, well, what am I going to do? - The main thing, Your Majesty, in the world history will go down, that's what's bad ... They say, Persia ... Cambyses ... They sued the young lady ... - Ay, why are you upsetting me, you son of a bitch! .. Gather troops! .. Go marching! .. Conquer and erase Egypt to hell! .. In general, Cambyses personally moved troops to Egypt and a short time conquered him. However, the aged and miserable pharaoh Amasis had died by that time. And his nephew Psametikh, not expecting anything good for himself, committed suicide. As for the ill-fated daughter, unfortunately, we did not find any traces of her fate in history ... One familiar professor of history who lectures at the university , I was told that Cambyses allegedly gave this Egyptian to the harem of one of his ministers. But how true this is, we do not undertake to assert. But it is, of course, possible. In general, love dissipated like smoke. Which shows how much a pound of this feeling was worth.29. So what? So it's like it doesn't matter? Where is this famous love, glorified by poets and singers? Where is this feeling, sung in marvelous verses? Is it possible that half-educated poets, rhymers and lovers of all beauty and grace have allowed such an outrageous exaggeration? For some reason, when we read history, we do not find such spectacular experiences. No, of course, when we leaf through history, we come across something. But this is too little. We wanted some peerless gem to sparkle on every page. And then once a century we stumble upon some dubious lover. Here we scraped together something like this a few love stories. And for this we read with diligence decisively the whole story from different there, I apologize, Ethiopians and Chaldeans and from the creation of the world right up to our time. And that's all they scraped together what you will see now. For example, quite strong love , thanks to which one daughter ran over her dad in a chariot. That's how it was for them.30. The Roman king Servius Tulius had a daughter. And the daughter had a husband, a man of rather dubious reputation. Nevertheless, his daughter loved him exceptionally. And this gentleman planned to throw off the throne the noble father of this daughter, Servius Tulius. Of course, it was an old man - Servius Thulius, and he waged some unsuccessful wars with these, imagine, with some Etruscans. But still, it was a pity to throw it away. Moreover, it was not necessary to kill him. It was already disgusting. But this energetic son-in-law, after consulting with the old man's daughter, decided to kill her dad after all. And out of love for this bloodsucker, she agreed. And now, on the square, this energetic son-in-law, having bribed a hired killer, mercilessly kills a noble old man with a dagger. And he, without a peep, falls. And the people shout: “Who, gentlemen, will we have an emperor now?” And now the daughter of this murdered father, instead of crying out of chagrin and falling on the corpse of her dad, jumps on the chariot and, wanting to greet the new emperor - her husband , with a cry of joy, the corpse of his just murdered father moves to hell with wheels. The scene, although somewhat repulsive, is still strong. And the love of this royal daughter comes out quite meaningful. Still, one must love very much in order to move the old man at such a moment. He stands on a chariot. Whoops. Hair was tousled. The muzzle twisted. "Hooray!" - shouts to the new emperor. And he goes through everything that is horrible. And in the crowd they shout: - Look, this shameless wench did not even hesitate, it seems, to move her dad. No, after all, it was love. And partly, probably, the desire to reign itself. In general, it is not known.31. But here's an even stronger love that happened to one notorious historical lady at the end of her life. The Russian Empress Catherine II, in her declining years, having something like fifty-eight years old, fell madly in love with one young brave handsome man - Platon Zubov. He was twenty-one years old, and he was really a very interesting young man. Although his brother Valerian was even more interesting. There are two portraits of them in the Russian Museum - so it’s true: the brother was of unheard of beauty. But the old woman saw her brother later and therefore, not knowing how and what, she immediately fell in love with Plato. And when she saw Valerian, she gasped and said: “Yes, I would have liked this young man too. But since I already fell in love with Plato, I’ll probably continue like that.” impression, he sent this brother of his to the war. And the handsome man had his leg torn off by a cannon ball in the war. So the old woman became completely attached to Plato and showered him with various amazing favors. It would be interesting to know how they had an affair. Handsome was probably terribly shy at first and shy when the old lady pushed him. Naturally, you become shy: after all, a sacred person, so to speak, the Empress of All Russia, and so on, and suddenly, damn it, some rude deeds! Let's imagine this novel. - Well, hug me, fool! - said the empress. - Directly, by God, I don’t dare, your majesty, - muttered the favorite. I have, so to speak, timidity and respect for the imperial dignity. - Forget about it. Well, call me Ekaterina Vasilievna (or whatever her father is). And the boy, laughing unnaturally, respectfully touched the empress's aging shoulders. But then he got used to it and received more than he should for his love. In general, at the age of twenty-four, the handsome man was already an in-chief general, the governor of the Novorossiysk Territory and the chief commander of all artillery. The middle-aged lady, falling in love with him more and more every year, did not know , as if and with what to please him. She allowed him to look through all the secret dispatches and reports from abroad. All ministers and generals, before getting to Catherine, passed through it. The young man received ministers and courtiers, lying on a couch in a silk Bukhara robe. The old generals, trembling respectfully, stood at attention in front of the young handsome man. The old empress, in love without measure, entrusted him with all the most responsible state affairs. Love literally blinded her.33. Meanwhile, the boy had very vague ideas about life and politics. For example, his project of a new Russia is known. In this amazing project the capitals of the first degree are proudly indicated: St. Petersburg, Berlin, Astrakhan, Moscow and Constantinople. For some reason, Krakow, Taganrog and Danzig are listed among the cities of the second degree. This project contains the following phrase: "The empress of such a vast empire should be likened to the sun, with her beneficent gaze warming everything that its rays can reach." how all world politics faded in comparison with her last love. But this case rather shows us an aging person in all his sad beauty than the happy properties of love. However, here is the story of one Great love, which happened in the prime of life.34. This story is also quite well-known, bypassing theater venues. So we will not dwell on it for a particularly long time. This, you know, is about how the Roman consul Mark Antony fell in love with Egyptian queen Cleopatra. In general, let's remember this story, especially since this Touching story yet amazing in the extreme. An ambitious man who has achieved, imagine, enormous power, having fallen in love with a woman, abandoned absolutely everything. He even abandoned his troops, with whom he went to conquer. And forever stuck in Egypt. He gave Cleopatra the Roman lands, though conquered by him - Armenia, Syria, Cilicia and Phoenicia. And he elevated her to the rank of queen of kings. The Roman Senate, seeing the scandalous actions of the commander, hastily dismissed Anthony from the post of first consul. But Antony, in love, did not even want to return to his homeland. Then Rome declared war on Cleopatra. And they began a glorious struggle. Antony, together with Cleopatra, opposed the Roman army. The Roman troops were approaching Alexandria, and the Roman consul Octavian wrote a letter to Cleopatra stating that she could still save her life and the throne if she only sacrificed Antony.35. The lady queen, seeing that her affairs were unimportant, decided to sacrifice her ardent lover. And while Antony fought with Octavius, Cleopatra notified her lover through the servants that she had taken her own life. She knew that Antony, who loved her, would not survive grief. And indeed: upon learning of the death of Cleopatra, Antony pierced himself with a sword. However, the wound was not fatal. And Antony, learning that Cleopatra was alive, ordered to bring himself on a stretcher to her. And in her arms he died, forgiving her for deceit. This amazing story really speaks of a rather great love, which decisively overshadowed everything else. And Cleopatra later also committed suicide. The fact is that Octavian was going to send her to Rome as a trophy. Cleopatra wanted to captivate this leader with her coquetry, but nothing came of it, and then she, not wanting to experience shame, poisoned herself. And thirty of her servants were poisoned with her. And for some reason we feel sorry for this beauty, to whom Octavian said: "Quit, queen, your tricks, you won't catch me on this." And she was already forty years old, and she realized that her song was sung.36 But here is another big love, in which a person even forgot about his revolutionary duty. We are talking about the husband of the famous Madame Tallien. French Revolution the chief secretary of the revolutionary council, Tallien, was sent by Robespierre to Bordeaux to arrest the aristocrats who had fled there. And in prison he met an arrested young woman, Teresa Fontenay. He fell in love with her and released her from prison. Robespierre, having learned that Tallien had released the arrested woman, ordered her to be arrested again. Then Tallien, having joined with Danton's supporters, waged such a fight against Robespierre that he managed to topple him in a short time. And one of the motives for this struggle was, undoubtedly, love for Teresa Fontenay. Later Tallien married her, but she soon left him and married some prince. But this is not all that history knows. at times small and, at first glance, hardly noticeable events, but nevertheless these events literally, one might say, like the sun made its way through the jungle of forests. It was a big love.37. For example, the wives of the Decembrists, brilliant secular ladies, left everything and voluntarily, although no one sent them out, went to Siberia for their husbands. Sick Radishchev had to go into exile. Shortly before that, his wife died. Then his wife's sister followed him to the settlement... The son of a wealthy landowner, the brilliant cavalry guard Ivashov, fell in love with the governess Camilla, who served in their house. His parents, of course, refused him this marriage. But a year later, when Ivashov was exiled to Siberia for twenty years on the case of the Decembrists, a young governess voluntarily followed him. The English poet R. Browning's beloved wife died. Terribly mourning her, the poet put in the coffin the most precious thing that was for him, a notebook of his new sonnets. True, later, when the poet fell in love again, he took out this notebook, but this is not so important. Napoleon at the height of the battle in 1796 wrote to Josephine: "Far from you, the whole world is a desert in which I am alone and abandoned. You are the only thought of my whole life." Lassalle wrote to Elena Dennigues: "I have gigantic forces, and I will thousand of them to conquer you. No one in the world unable to tear you away from me. I suffer a thousand times more than Prometheus on the rock."38. Chernyshevsky, in love with his wife, wrote to Nekrasov: "It is not because of world issues that people drown, shoot themselves, become drunkards - I experienced this and I know that the poetry of the heart has the same rights as the poetry of thought." The city of Weinsberg is besieged by the enemy. The winners allowed women to leave the city before the rout. Moreover, they allowed each woman to take what was most dear to her, and what she could carry with her. And here are a few women in their arms carried their valiant husbands. Of course, this last event looks like a legend. History likes from time to time, so to speak, for moral balance to come up with something so sensitive.39. Of the sensitive anecdotes, the following is amusing. Some knight, setting out on a campaign, entrusted his wife to his friend. A friend fell in love with his wife. The wife fell in love with him. But the oath of allegiance, of course, is inviolable. And so, in order to preserve and test this fidelity, they sleep in the same bed, putting a double-edged sword between them. one bed, this historical fact we will not refute - but as for everything else, then, excuse me, we doubt it. In general, we end our historical novels on this sentimental nonsense. This is what the story of love tells. In general, it tells very little about this feeling. Say, yes, indeed, this feeling seems to exist. History, they say, sometimes had to deal with this emotion. Say, there were even some historical events and cases on this basis. And some deeds and crimes were committed. But for it to be something too grandiose, like what poets sang with their tenors, history almost does not know this. On the contrary, commercial souls completely saddled this feeling And it does not represent no danger to the silent course of history.40. No, this feeling did not prevent people from following the path they are conscientiously and patiently following. And history has the right to tell us in monotonous voices about what happened, and about how much a groom received "karbovanets" for one or another of his feelings. .Yes, of course, here we were talking about past centuries. And, perhaps, something has changed now? Unfortunately, we have not been abroad and, therefore, we cannot fully satisfy your legitimate curiosity. But we are of the opinion that it is unlikely that any major changes have taken place there. we think so, some marquis with his sonorous name is the groom of a three-year-old baby. And papa pays him a monthly salary. And, probably, some aging person, forgetting everything in the world, keeps some dancer Zubov with her and showers him with her favors. Everything, presumably, is going as it went. And what As far as we are concerned, significant changes have taken place in our country.41. And some sad things related to love, we still gradually disappear. For example, commercial settlement has almost ceased. And money accounts have been simplified and greatly reduced. And in general, it has somehow become clearer in this sense, and less troublesome, and not so burdensome. Let's see what negative things we have on the love front. And, so to speak, with the iron broom of satire, let's sweep what can be swept. So, let's move on to love stories from our life.
