Ivan Turgenev

“ I will leave you now; you must rest; any excitement is bad for you . . . But we will talk it over another time. Go to sleep, my dear, and God grant you good health!"
"Why does he thank me like that?" thought Pavel Petrovich, when he was left alone. "As if it did not depend on himself! Then as soon as he marries I will go away somewhere, far from here, to Dresden or Florence, and I will live there till I expire." Pavel Petrovich moistened his forehead with eau de Cologne and closed his eyes. ”

“ He is such a good kind man. Don't give him up for anyone, don't listen to anyone else's talk. Only think, what can be more terrible than to love and not to be loved in return. Never leave my poor Nikolai!" Fenichka's eyes were dry and her fright had vanished--so great was her amazement. But what were her feelings when Pavel Petrovich, Pavel Petrovich of all people, pressed her hand to his lips and seemed to pierce into it without kissing it, only breathing convulsively from time to time . ”

“ Nikolai Petrovich had a careworn look. He had just heard that his wheat crop on which he had set high hopes had begun to show signs of blight, Pavel Petrovich overwhelmed everyone, even Prokovich, with his icy politeness. Bazarov began a letter to his father, but tore it up and threw it under the table. "If I die," he thought, "they will hear about it; but I shan't die; no, I shall struggle along in this world for a long time yet." He gave Pyotr an order to come to him on important business the next morning as soon as it was light. Pyotr imagined that Bazarov wanted to take him to Petersburg. ”

“ By the way, how many paces may each of us go back from the barrier? That's an important question too. It was not discussed yesterday."
"I suppose, ten," replied Pavel Petrovich, handing Bazarov both pistols. "Will you be so good as to choose?"
"I will be so good. But you must admit, Pavel Petrovich, that our duel is unusual to the point of absurdity. Only look at the face of our second."
"You are disposed to laugh at everything," answered Pavel Petrovich. "I don't deny the strangeness of our duel, but I think it is my duty to warn you that I intend to fight seriously. ”

“ We cannot endure one another. What more is necessary?"
"What more is necessary?" repeated Bazarov ironically. "As regards the conditions of the duel itself, since we shall have no seconds--for where could we get them?"
"Exactly, where could we get any?"
"I therefore have the honor to put the following proposals to you; we shall fight early tomorrow morning, at six, let us say, behind the plantation, with pistols, at a distance of ten paces . . ."
"At ten paces? That will do; we can still hate each other at that distance."
"We could make it eight," remarked Pavel Petrovich. ”

“ The Russian peasant is that mysterious unknown person about whom Mrs. Radcliffe used to say so much. Who can understand him? He doesn't understand himself."
"Ah, so that's what you think," Pavel Petrovich began, then suddenly exclaimed, "Look what your fool of a Pyotr has done! Here's my brother galloping towards us."
Bazarov turned round and saw Nikolai Petrovich sitting in a droshky, his face pale. He jumped out before it had stopped and ran up to his brother. ”

“ Nikolai Petrovich rushed over to embrace his brother. "You have really opened my eyes," he exclaimed. "I was right in always maintaining that you are the kindest and wisest man in the world, and now I see you are just as reasonable as you are generous-minded."
"Softly, softly," Pavel Petrovich interrupted him. "Don't knock the leg of your reasonable brother who at close on fifty has been fighting a duel like a young lieutenant. So, then, the matter is settled; Fenichka is to be my . ”

“ What do you suppose that man thinks about us now?" continued Pavel Petrovich, pointing at the same peasant who had driven the hobbled horses past Bazarov a few minutes before the duel, and who was now going back again along the same road and took off his cap at the sight of the "masters." ”

“ He'll be enthusiastic, of course! Marriage is not a principle for him, but on the other hand his sentiment of equality will be gratified. Yes, and after all what is the good of caste divisions au dix-neuvième siècle? ”

“ Bazarov remarked coolly. "That is entirely correct. You have no need to insult me; indeed it would not be quite safe . . . you can remain a gentleman . . . I accept your challenge also like a gentleman."
"Excellent," observed Pavel Petrovich, and put his stick down in the corner. "We will say a few words now about the conditions of our duel ”