AntonChekhov_TheBet.docx

**[The Bet]{.smallcaps}** [**Anton Chekhov**](https://www.eastoftheweb.com/cgi-bin/read_db.pl?search_field=author_id&search_for=AntonChekhov&order_by=author_last,title&page=1) +-----------------------------------------------------------------------+ | It was a dark autumn night. The old banker was...

**[The Bet]{.smallcaps}** [**Anton Chekhov**](https://www.eastoftheweb.com/cgi-bin/read_db.pl?search_field=author_id&search_for=AntonChekhov&order_by=author_last,title&page=1) +-----------------------------------------------------------------------+ | It was a dark autumn night. The old banker was walking up and down | | his study and remembering how, fifteen years before, he had given a | | party one autumn evening. There had been many clever men there, and | | there had been interesting conversations. Among other things they had | | talked of capital punishment. The majority of the guests, among whom | | were many journalists and intellectual men, disapproved of the death | | penalty. They considered that form of punishment out of date, | | immoral, and unsuitable for Christian States. In the opinion of some | | of them the death penalty ought to be replaced everywhere by | | imprisonment for life. \"I don\'t agree with you,\" said their host | | the banker. \"I have not tried either the death penalty or | | imprisonment for life, but if one may judge *a priori*, the death | | penalty is more moral and more humane than imprisonment for life. | | Capital punishment kills a man at once, but lifelong imprisonment | | kills him slowly. Which executioner is the more humane, he who kills | | you in a few minutes or he who drags the life out of you in the | | course of many years?\" | | | |      \"Both are equally immoral,\" observed one of the guests, \"for | | they both have the same object - to take away life. The State is not | | God. It has not the right to take away what it cannot restore when it | | wants to.\" | | | |      Among the guests was a young lawyer, a young man of | | five-and-twenty. When he was asked his opinion, he said: | | | |      \"The death sentence and the life sentence are equally immoral, | | but if I had to choose between the death penalty and imprisonment for | | life, I would certainly choose the second. To live anyhow is better | | than not at all.\" | | | |      A lively discussion arose. The banker, who was younger and more | | nervous in those days, was suddenly carried away by excitement; he | | struck the table with his fist and shouted at the young man: | | | |      \"It\'s not true! I\'ll bet you two million you wouldn\'t stay | | in solitary confinement for five years.\" | | | |      \"If you mean that in earnest,\" said the young man, \"I\'ll | | take the bet, but I would stay not five but fifteen years.\" | | | | [**[\]**](https://www.eas | | toftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Bet.shtml#3) | | | |      \"Fifteen? Done!\" cried the banker. \"Gentlemen, I stake two | | million!\" | | | |      \"Agreed! You stake your millions and I stake my freedom!\" said | | the young man. | | | |      And this wild, senseless bet was carried out! The banker, spoilt | | and frivolous, with millions beyond his reckoning, was delighted at | | the bet. At supper he made fun of the young man, and said: | | | |      \"Think better of it, young man, while there is still time. To | | me two million is a trifle, but you are losing three or four of the | | best years of your life. I say three or four, because you won\'t stay | | longer. Don\'t forget either, you unhappy man, that voluntary | | confinement is a great deal harder to bear than compulsory. The | | thought that you have the right to step out in liberty at any moment | | will poison your whole existence in prison. I am sorry for you.\" | | | |      And now the banker, walking to and fro, remembered all this, and | | asked himself: \"What was the object of that bet? What is the good of | | that man\'s losing fifteen years of his life and my throwing away two | | million? Can it prove that the death penalty is better or worse than | | imprisonment for life? No, no. It was all nonsensical and | | meaningless. On my part it was the caprice of a pampered man, and on | | his part simple greed for money \...\" | | | |      Then he remembered what followed that evening. It was decided | | that the young man should spend the years of his captivity under the | | strictest supervision in one of the lodges in the banker\'s garden. | | It was agreed that for fifteen years he should not be free to cross | | the threshold of the lodge, to see human beings, to hear the human | | voice, or to receive letters and newspapers. He was allowed to have a | | musical instrument and books, and was allowed to write letters, to | | drink wine, and to smoke. By the terms of the agreement, the only | | relations he could have with the outer world were by a little window | | made purposely for that object. He might have anything he wanted - | | books, music, wine, and so on - in any quantity he desired by writing | | an order, but could only receive them through the window. The | | agreement provided for every detail and every trifle that would make | | his imprisonment strictly solitary, and bound the young man to stay | | there *exactly* fifteen years, beginning from twelve o\'clock of | | November 14, 1870, and ending at twelve o\'clock of November 14, | | 1885. The slightest attempt on his part to break the conditions, if | | only two minutes before the end, released the banker from the | | obligation to pay him the two million. | | | | [**[\]**](https://www.eas | | toftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Bet.shtml#4) | | | |      For the first year of his confinement, as far as one could judge | | from his brief notes, the prisoner suffered severely from loneliness | | and depression. The sounds of the piano could be heard continually | | day and night from his lodge. He refused wine and tobacco. Wine, he | | wrote, excites the desires, and desires are the worst foes of the | | prisoner; and besides, nothing could be more dreary than drinking | | good wine and seeing no one. And tobacco spoilt the air of his room. | | In the first year the books he sent for were principally of a light | | character; novels with a complicated love plot, sensational and | | fantastic stories, and so on. | | | |      In the second year the piano was silent in the lodge, and the | | prisoner asked only for the classics. In the fifth year music was | | audible again, and the prisoner asked for wine. Those who watched him | | through the window said that all that year he spent doing nothing but | | eating and drinking and lying on his bed, frequently yawning and | | angrily talking to himself. He did not read books. Sometimes at night | | he would sit down to write; he would spend hours writing, and in the | | morning tear up all that he had written. More than once he could be | | heard crying. | | | |      In the second half of the sixth year the prisoner began | | zealously studying languages, philosophy, and history. He threw | | himself eagerly into these studies - so much so that the banker had | | enough to do to get him the books he ordered. In the course of four | | years some six hundred volumes were procured at his request. It was | | during this period that the banker received the following letter from | | his prisoner: | | | |      \"My dear Jailer, I write you these lines in six languages. Show | | them to people who know the languages. Let them read them. If they | | find not one mistake I implore you to fire a shot in the garden. That | | shot will show me that my efforts have not been thrown away. The | | geniuses of all ages and of all lands speak different languages, but | | the same flame burns in them all. Oh, if you only knew what unearthly | | happiness my soul feels now from being able to understand them!\" The | | prisoner\'s desire was fulfilled. The banker ordered two shots to be | | fired in the garden. | | | | [**[\]**](https://www.eas | | toftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Bet.shtml#5) | | | |      Then after the tenth year, the prisoner sat immovably at the | | table and read nothing but the Gospel. It seemed strange to the | | banker that a man who in four years had mastered six hundred learned | | volumes should waste nearly a year over one thin book easy of | | comprehension. Theology and histories of religion followed the | | Gospels. | | | |      In the last two years of his confinement the prisoner read an | | immense quantity of books quite indiscriminately. At one time he was | | busy with the natural sciences, then he would ask for Byron or | | Shakespeare. There were notes in which he demanded at the same time | | books on chemistry, and a manual of medicine, and a novel, and some | | treatise on philosophy or theology. His reading suggested a man | | swimming in the sea among the wreckage of his ship, and trying to | | save his life by greedily clutching first at one spar and then at | | another. | | | |   | | | | The old banker remembered all this, and thought: | | | |      \"To-morrow at twelve o\'clock he will regain his freedom. By | | our agreement I ought to pay him two million. If I do pay him, it is | | all over with me: I shall be utterly ruined.\" | | | |      Fifteen years before, his millions had been beyond his | | reckoning; now he was afraid to ask himself which were greater, his | | debts or his assets. Desperate gambling on the Stock Exchange, wild | | speculation and the excitability whic h he could not get over even in | | advancing years, had by degrees led to the decline of his fortune and | | the proud, fearless, self-confident millionaire had become a banker | | of middling rank, trembling at every rise and fall in his | | investments. \"Cursed bet!\" muttered the old man, clutching his head | | in despair \"Why didn\'t the man die? He is only forty now. He will | | take my last penny from me, he will marry, will enjoy life, will | | gamble on the Exchange; while I shall look at him with envy like a | | beggar, and hear from him every day the same sentence: \'I am | | indebted to you for the happiness of my life, let me help you!\' No, | | it is too much! The one means of being saved from bankruptcy and | | disgrace is the death of that man!\" | | | | [**[\]**](https://www.eas | | toftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Bet.shtml#6) | | | |      It struck three o\'clock, the banker listened; everyone was | | asleep in the house and nothing could be heard outside but the | | rustling of the chilled trees. Trying to make no noise, he took from | | a fireproof safe the key of the door which had not been opened for | | fifteen years, put on his overcoat, and went out of the house. | | | |      It was dark and cold in the garden. Rain was falling. A damp | | cutting wind was racing about the garden, howling and giving the | | trees no rest. The banker strained his eyes, but could see neither | | the earth nor the white statues, nor the lodge, nor the trees. Going | | to the spot where the lodge stood, he twice called the watchman. No | | answer followed. Evidently the watchman had sought shelter from the | | weather, and was now asleep somewhere either in the kitchen or in the | | greenhouse. | | | |      \"If I had the pluck to carry out my intention,\" thought the | | old man, \"Suspicion would fall first upon the watchman.\" | | | |      He felt in the darkness for the steps and the door, and went | | into the entry of the lodge. Then he groped his way into a little | | passage and lighted a match. There was not a soul there. There was a | | bedstead with no bedding on it, and in the corner there was a dark | | cast-iron stove. The seals on the door leading to the prisoner\'s | | rooms were intact. | | | |      When the match went out the old man, trembling with emotion, | | peeped through the little window. A candle was burning dimly in the | | prisoner\'s room. He was sitting at the table. Nothing could be seen | | but his back, the hair on his head, and his hands. Open books were | | lying on the table, on the two easy-chairs, and on the carpet near | | the table. | | | |      Five minutes passed and the prisoner did not once stir. Fifteen | | years\' imprisonment had taught him to sit still. The banker tapped | | at the window with his finger, and the prisoner made no movement | | whatever in response. Then the banker cautiously broke the seals off | | the door and put the key in the keyhole. The rusty lock gave a | | grating sound and the door creaked. The banker expected to hear at | | once footsteps and a cry of astonishment, but three minutes passed | | and it was as quiet as ever in the room. He made up his mind to go | | in. | | | | [**[\]**](https://www.eas | | toftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Bet.shtml#7) | | | |      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: | | | |      \"To-morrow 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. | | | |      \"For fifteen years I have been intently studying earthly life. | | It is true I have not seen the earth nor men, but in your books I | | have drunk fragrant wine, I have sung songs, I have hunted stags and | | wild boars in the forests, 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 mountain-tops 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 \... | | | | [**[\]**](https://www.eas | | toftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Bet.shtml#8) | | | |      \"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 sorts, 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. | | | |      \"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 hours 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. | +=======================================================================+ | | +-----------------------------------------------------------------------+