11
At the table a man unlike ordinary people was sitting motionless. He was a skeleton with the skin drawn tight over his bones, with long curls like a woman’s, and a shaggy beard. His face was yellow with an earthy tint in it, his cheeks were hollow, his back long and narrow, and the hand on which his shaggy head was propped was so thin and delicate that it was dreadful to look at it. His hair was already streaked with silver, and seeing his emaciated, aged-looking face, no one would have believed that he was only forty. He was asleep. . . . In front of his bowed head there lay on the table a sheet of paper, on which there was something written in fine handwriting.
“Poor creature!” thought the banker, “he is asleep and most likely dreaming of the millions. And I have only to take this half-dead man, throw him on the bed, stifle him a little with the pillow, and the most conscientious expert would find no sign of a violent death. But let us first read what he has written here. . . .”
The banker took the page from the table and read as follows:
“Tomorrow at twelve o’clock I regain my freedom and the right to associate with other men, but before I leave this room and see the sunshine, I think it necessary to say a few words to you. With a clear conscience I tell you, as before God, who beholds me, that I despise freedom and life and health and all that in your books is called the good things of the world.
12
“For fifteen years I have been intently studying earthly life. It is true I have not seen the earth or men, but in your books I have drunk fragrant wine, I have sung songs, I have hunted stags and wild boars in the forests, I have loved women. . . . Beauties as ethereal as clouds, created by the magic of your poets and geniuses, have visited me at night and have whispered in my ears wonderful tales that have set my brain in a whirl. In your books I have climbed to the peaks of Elburz and Mont Blanc, and from there I have seen the sun rise and have watched it at evening flood the sky, the ocean, and the mountaintops with gold and crimson. I have watched from there the lightning flashing over my head and cleaving the storm clouds. I have seen green forests, fields, rivers, lakes, towns. I have heard the singing of the sirens, and the strains of the shepherds’ pipes; I have touched the wings of comely devils who flew down to converse with me of God. . . . In your books I have flung myself into the bottomless pit, performed miracles, slain, burned towns, preached new religions, conquered whole kingdoms. . . .
13
“Your books have given me wisdom. All that the unresting thought of man has created in the ages is compressed into a small compass in my brain. I know that I am wiser than all of you.
“And I despise your books, I despise wisdom and the blessings of this world. It is all worthless, fleeting, illusory, and deceptive, like a mirage. You may be proud, wise, and fine, but death will wipe you off the face of the earth as though you were no more than mice burrowing under the floor, and your posterity, your history, your immortal geniuses will burn or freeze together with the earthly globe.
“You have lost your reason and taken the wrong path. You have taken lies for truth and hideousness for beauty. You would marvel if, owing to strange events of some sort, frogs and lizards suddenly grew on apple and orange trees instead of fruit or if roses began to smell like a sweating horse; so I marvel at you who exchange heaven for earth. I don’t want to understand you.
14
“To prove to you in action how I despise all that you live by, I renounce the two million of which I once dreamed as of paradise and which now I despise. To deprive myself of the right to the money, I shall go out from here five minutes before the time fixed and so break the compact. . . .”
When the banker had read this, he laid the page on the table, kissed the strange man on the head, and went out of the lodge, weeping. At no other time, even when he had lost heavily on the Stock Exchange, had he felt so great a contempt for himself. When he got home, he lay on his bed, but his tears and emotion kept him for hours from sleeping.
Next morning the watchmen ran in with pale faces and told him they had seen the man who lived in the lodge climb out of the window into the garden, go to the gate, and disappear. The banker went at once with the servants to the lodge and made sure of the flight of his prisoner. To avoid arousing unnecessary talk, he took from the table the writing in which the millions were renounced and, when he got home, locked it up in the fireproof safe.
Making Meanings
The Bet
Reading Check
a. Explain the terms of the bet.
b. At the end of fifteen years, what has happened to the banker?
c. After the same period, what has happened to the lawyer?
d. Why does the banker go to the lodge on the last night of the lawyer’s captivity?
e. What decision does the lawyer announce in a letter, and why?
First Thoughts
1. Who do you think won the bet, and what did he win? Compare answers with your classmates.
Shaping Interpretations
2. Imagine you are a psychologist observing the lawyer periodically during his confinement. Write a year-by-year summary of how he spends his time and what his emotional state appears to be. Use a time line like the one to the right.
3. After making the bet, the banker tells himself that “greed for money” was the lawyer’s motivation for betting. Do you agree or disagree? Look for evidence in the text to support your view.
4. For fifteen years, the lawyer lives in exile. How does this experience affect him? How do your Quickwrite responses compare with his experience?
5. Looking back, the banker believes he took the bet on “the caprice of a pampered man.” How does he feel about himself at the end of the fifteen years? What do you think this reveals about Chekhov’s view of what is important in life?
6. Identify what you think is the story’s most important passage. How would you interpret the story’s theme? Discuss your statement of theme with other readers. Are several thematic focuses possible?
Connecting with the Text
7. At the story’s end, would you rather be the banker or the lawyer? Why?
Extending the Text
8. Russian history has been a long and troubled search for freedom. (See Literature and History.) How do you think the political problems in the last years of the czar’s reign might have influenced Chekhov’s—and his characters’—ideas on freedom, materialism, and personal sacrifice?
9. Do you believe there is such a thing as “internal freedom”—the kind of freedom the lawyer comes to know in prison? Think of people imprisoned for their beliefs. Are they freer than their jailers? If so, how?