Afterwards I have only to weep.
Such am I, young Vanionsia,
This fellow whom you now see
Was once a splendid merry-maker,
Named Romodin.
These two poems, seemingly so contradictory, are the sincere expression of the situation of the man, who is now a cripple in the hospital. He gives both sides of each situation—that of freedom and that of living in a hospital.
On Saturday afternoon I went to one of the permanent fairs or markets in the town, where there are a great quantity of booths. Everything is sold here, and here the people buy their clothes. They are now buying their summer yachting caps. One man offered me a stolen gold watch for a small sum. Another begged me to buy him a pair of cheap boots. I did so; upon which he said: “Now that you have made half a man of me, make a whole man of me by buying me a jacket.” I refused, however, to make a whole man of him.
April 16th.
To-day I went out to luncheon with some friends in the “Intelligenzia.” We were a large party, and one of the guests was an officer who had been to the war. Towards the end of luncheon, when everybody was convivial, healths were drunk, and one young man, who proclaimed very loudly that he was a social revolutionary, drank to the health of the Republic. I made great friends with the social revolutionary during luncheon. When this health was drunk I was extremely alarmed as to what the officer might do. But the officer turned out to be this man’s brother. The officer himself made a speech which was, I think, the most brilliant example of compromise I have ever heard; for he expressed his full sympathy with the Liberal movement in Russia, including its representatives in the extreme parties, and at the same time he expressed his unalterable loyalty to his Sovereign.
After luncheon the social revolutionary, who had sworn eternal friendship to me, was told that I had relations in London who managed a bank. So he came up to me and said: “If you give our Government one penny in the way of a loan I shall shoot you dead.”