Best Russian Short Stories

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"Undoubtedly the dismal darkness."

"Then one should seek for light. Perchance you will find here the
great law--that mortals must in darkness seek the source of life. Do
you not think it is better so to seek than to remain sitting in one
spot? _I_ think it is, therefore I keep walking. Farewell!"

"Oh, good Socrates, abandon me not! You go with sure steps through the
pathless chaos in Hades. Hold out to me but a fold of your mantle--"

"If you think it is better for you, too, then follow me, friend
Elpidias."

And the two shades walked on, while the soul of Ctesippus, released by
sleep from its mortal envelop, flew after them, greedily absorbing the
tones of the clear Socratic speech.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"Are you here, good Socrates?" the voice of the Athenian again was
heard. "Why are you silent? Converse shortens the way, and I swear, by
Hercules, never did I have to traverse such a horrid way."

"Put questions, friend Elpidias! The question of one who seeks
knowledge brings forth answers and produces conversation."

Elpidias maintained silence for a moment, and then, after he had
collected his thoughts, asked:

"Yes, this is what I wanted to say--tell me, my poor Socrates, did
they at least give you a good burial?"

"I must confess, friend Elpidias, I cannot satisfy your curiosity."

"I understand, my poor Socrates, it doesn't help you cut a figure. Now
with me it was so different! Oh, how they buried me, how magnificently
they buried me, my poor fellow-Wanderer! I still think with great
pleasure of those lovely moments after my death. First they washed me
and sprinkled me with well-smelling balsam. Then my faithful Larissa
dressed me in garments of the finest weave. The best mourning-women of
the city tore their hair from their heads because they had been
promised good pay, and in the family vault they placed an amphora--a
crater with beautiful, decorated handles of bronze, and, besides, a
vial.--"

"Stay, friend Elpidias. I am convinced that: the faithful Larissa
converted her love into several minas. Yet--"

"Exactly ten minas and four drachmas, not counting the drinks for the
guests. I hardly think that the richest tanner can come before the
souls of his ancestors and boast of such respect on the part of the
living."

"Friend Elpidias, don't you think that money would have been of more
use to the poor people who are still alive in Athens than to you at
this moment?"

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"Admit, Socrates, you are speaking in envy," responded Elpidias,
pained. "I am sorry for you, unfortunate Socrates, although, between
ourselves, you really deserved your fate. I myself in the family
circle said more than once that an end ought to be put to your impious
doings, because--"

"Stay, friend, I thought you wanted to draw a conclusion, and I fear
you are straying from the straight path. Tell me, my good friend,
whither does your wavering thought tend?"

"I wanted to say that in my goodness I am sorry for you. A month ago I
myself spoke against you in the assembly, but truly none of us who
shouted so loud wanted such a great ill to befall you. Believe me, now
I am all the sorrier for you, unhappy philosopher!"

"I thank you. But tell me, my friend, do you perceive a brightness
before your eyes?"

"No, on the contrary such darkness lies before me that I must ask
myself whether this is not the misty region of Orcus."

"This way, therefore, is just as dark for you as for me?"

"Quite right."

"If I am not mistaken, you are even holding on to the folds of my
cloak?"

"Also true."

"Then we are in the same position? You see your ancestors are not
hastening to rejoice in the tale of your pompous burial. Where is the
difference between us, my good friend?"

"But, Socrates, have the gods enveloped your reason in such obscurity
that the difference is not clear to you?"

"Friend, if your situation is clearer to you, then give me your hand
and lead me, for I swear, by the dog, you let me go ahead in this
darkness."

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"Cease your scoffing, Socrates! Do not make sport, and do not compare
yourself, your godless self, with a man who died in his own bed----".

"Ah, I believe I am beginning to understand you. But tell me,
Elpidias, do you hope ever again to rejoice in your bed?"

"Oh, I think not."

"And was there ever a time when you did not sleep in it?"

"Yes. That was before I bought goods from Agesilaus at half their
value. You see, that Agesilaus is really a deep-dyed rogue----"

"Ah, never mind about Agesilaus! Perhaps he is getting them back, from
your widow at a quarter their value. Then wasn't I right when I said
that you were in possession of your bed only part of the time?"

"Yes, you were right."

"Well, and I, too, was in possession of the bed in which I died part
of the time. Proteus, the good guard of the prison, lent it to me for
a period."

"Oh, if I had known what you were aiming at with your talk, I wouldn't
have answered your wily questions. By Hercules, such profanation is
unheard of--he compares himself with me! Why, I could put an end to
you with two words, if it came to it----"

"Say them, Elpidias, without fear. Words can scarcely be more
destructive to me than the hemlock."

"Well, then, that is just what I wanted to say. You unfortunate man,
you died by the sentence of the court and had to drink hemlock!"

"But I have known that since the day of my death, even long before.
And you, unfortunate Elpidias, tell me what caused your death?"

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"Oh, with me, it was different, entirely different! You see I got the
dropsy in my abdomen. An expensive physician from Corinth was called
who promised to cure me for two minas, and he was given half that
amount in advance. I am afraid that Larissa in her lack of experience
in such things gave him the other half, too----"

"Then the physician did not keep his promise?"

"That's it."

"And you died from dropsy?"

"Ah, Socrates, believe me, three times it wanted to, vanquish me, and
finally it quenched the flame of my life!"

"Then tell me--did death by dropsy give you great pleasure?"

"Oh, wicked Socrates, don't make sport of me. I told you it wanted to
vanquish me three times. I bellowed like a steer under the knife of
the slaughterer, and begged the Parcæ to cut the thread of my life as
quickly as possible."

"That doesn't surprise me. But from what do you conclude that the
dropsy was pleasanter to you than the hemlock to me? The hemlock made
an end of me in a moment."

"I see, I fell into your snare again, you crafty sinner! I won't
enrage the gods still more by speaking with you, you destroyer of
sacred customs."

Both were silent, and quiet reigned. But in a short while Elpidias was
again the first to begin a conversation.

"Why are you silent, good Socrates?"

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"My friend; didn't you yourself ask for silence?"

"I am not proud, and I can treat men who are worse than I am
considerately. Don't let us quarrel."

"I did not quarrel with you, friend Elpidias, and did not wish to say
anything to insult you. I am merely accustomed to get at the truth of
things by comparisons. My situation is not clear to me. You consider
your situation better, and I should be glad to learn why. On the other
hand, it would not hurt you to learn the truth, whatever shape it may
take."

"Well, no more of this."

"Tell me, are you afraid? I don't think that the feeling I now have
can be called fear."

"I am afraid, although I have less cause than you to be at odds with
the gods. But don't you think that the gods, in abandoning us to
ourselves here in this chaos, have cheated us of our hopes?"

"That depends upon what sort of hopes they were. What did you expect
from the gods, Elpidias?"

"Well, well, what did I expect from the gods! What curious questions
you ask, Socrates! If a man throughout life brings offerings, and at
his death passes away with a pious heart and with all that custom
demands, the gods might at least send some one to meet him, at least
one of the inferior gods, to show a man the way. ... But that reminds
me. Many a time when I begged for good luck in traffic in hides, I
promised Hermes calves----"

"And you didn't have luck?"

"Oh, yes, I had luck, good Socrates, but----".

"I understand, you had no calf."

"Bah! Socrates, a rich tanner and not have calves?"

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"Now I understand. You had luck, had calves, but you kept them for
yourself, and Hermes received nothing."

"You're a clever man. I've often said so. I kept only three of my ten
oaths, and I didn't deal differently with the other gods. If the same
is the case with you, isn't that the reason, possibly, why we are now
abandoned by the gods? To be sure, I ordered Larissa to sacrifice a
whole hecatomb after my death."

"But that is Larissa's affair, whereas it was you, friend Elpidias,
who made the promises."

"That's true, that's true. But you, good Socrates, could you, godless
as you are, deal better with the gods than I who was a god-fearing
tanner?"

"My friend, I know not whether I dealt better or worse. At first I
brought offerings without having made vows. Later I offered neither
calves nor vows."

"What, not a single calf, you unfortunate man?"

"Yes, friend, if Hermes had had to live by my gifts, I am afraid he
would have grown very thin."

"I understand. You did not traffic in cattle, so you offered articles
of some other trade--probably a mina or so of what the pupils paid
you."

"You know, my friend, I didn't ask pay of my pupils, and my trade
scarcely sufficed to support me. If the gods reckoned on the sorry
remnants of my meals they miscalculated."

"Oh, blasphemer, in comparison with you I can be proud of my piety. Ye
gods, look upon this man! I did deceive you at times, but now and then
I shared with you the surplus of some fortunate deal. He who gives at
all gives much in comparison with a blasphemer who gives nothing.
Socrates, I think you had better go on alone! I fear that your
company, godless one, damages me in the eyes of the gods."

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"As you will, good Elpidias. I swear by the dog no one shall force his
company on another. Unhand the fold of my mantle, and farewell. I will
go on alone."

And Socrates walked forward with a sure tread, feeling the ground,
however, at every step.

But Elpidias behind him instantly cried out:

"Wait, wait, my good fellow-citizen, do not leave an Athenian alone in
this horrible place! I was only making fun. Take what I said as a
joke, and don't go so quickly. I marvel how you can see a thing in
this hellish darkness."

"Friend, I have accustomed my eyes to it."

"That's good. Still I, can't approve of your not having brought
sacrifices to the gods. No, I can't, poor Socrates, I can't. The
honourable Sophroniscus certainly taught you better in your youth, and
you yourself used to take part in the prayers. I saw you.

"Yes. But I am accustomed to examine all our motives and to accept
only those that after investigation prove to be reasonable. And so a
day came on which I said to myself: 'Socrates, here you are praying to
the Olympians. Why are you praying to them?'"

Elpidias laughed.

"Really you philosophers sometimes don't know how to answer the
simplest questions. I'm a plain tanner who never in my life studied
sophistry, yet I know why I must honour the Olympians."

"Tell me quickly, so that I. too, may know why."

"Why? Ha! Ha! It's too simple, you wise Socrates."

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"So much the better if it's simple. But don't keep your wisdom from,
me. Tell me--why must one honour the gods?"

"Why. Because everybody does it."

"Friend, you know very well that not every one honours the gods.
Wouldn't it be more correct to say 'many'?"

"Very well, many."

"But tell me, don't more men deal wickedly than righteously?"

"I think so. You find more wicked people than good people."

"Therefore, if you follow the majority, you ought to deal wickedly and
not righteously?"

"What are you saying?"

"_I'm_ not saying it, _you_ are. But I think the reason that men
reverence the Olympians is not because the majority worship them. We
must find another, more rational ground. Perhaps you mean they deserve
reverence?"

"Yes, very right."

"Good. But then arises a new question: Why do they deserve reverence?"

"Because of their greatness."

"Ah, that's more like it. Perhaps I will soon be agreeing with you. It
only remains for you to tell me wherein their greatness consists.
That's a difficult question, isn't it? Let us seek the answer
together. Homer says that the impetuous Ares, when stretched flat on
the ground by a stone thrown by Pallas Athene, covered with his body
the space that can be travelled in seven mornings. You see what an
enormous space."

[Dark Saint Alaick]

"Is that wherein greatness consists?"

"There you have me, my friend. That raises another question. Do you
remember the athlete Theophantes? He towered over the people a whole
head's length, whereas Pericles was no larger than you. But whom do we
call great, Pericles or Theophantes?"

"I see that greatness does not consist in size of body. In that you're
right. I am glad we agree. Perhaps greatness consists in virtue?"

"Certainly."

"I think so, too."

"Well, then, who must bow to whom? The small before the large, or
those who are great in virtues before the wicked?"

"The answer is clear."

"I think so, too. Now we will look further into this matter. Tell me
truly, did you ever kill other people's children with arrows?"

"It goes without saying, never! Do you think so ill of me?"

"Nor have you, I trust, ever seduced the wives of other men?"

"I was an upright tanner and a good husband. Don't forget that,
Socrates, I beg of you!"

"You never became a brute, nor by your lustfulness gave your faithful
Larissa occasion to revenge herself on women whom you had ruined and
on their innocent children?"

"You anger me, really, Socrates."

"But perhaps you snatched your inheritance from your father and threw
him into prison?"