Alexei Alexandrovich, seeing Vronsky's tears, felt a rush of that nervous emotion always produced in him by the sight of other people's sufferings, and, turning away his face, he moved hurriedly to the door, without hearing the rest of the words. From the bedroom came the sound of Anna's voice saying something. Her voice was lively, animated, with exceedingly distinct intonations. Alexei Alexandrovich went into the bedroom, and walked up to the bed. She was lying with her face turned toward him. Her cheeks were flushed crimson, her eyes glittered, her little white hands thrust out from the cuffs of her dressing gown were playing with the quilt, twisting it about. It seemed as though she were not only well and blooming, but in the happiest frame of mind. She was talking rapidly, musically, and with exceptionally correct articulation and expressive intonation.
`Because Alexei - I am speaking of Alexei Alexandrovich (what a strange and awful thing that both are Alexeis, isn't it?) - Alexei would not refuse me. I should forget, he would forgive... But why doesn't he come? He's so good, he doesn't know himself how good he is. Ah, my God, what pangs! Give me some water, quick! Oh, that will be bad for her - my little girl! Oh, very well then, give her to a nurse. Yes, I agree, it's better in fact. He'll be coming; it will hurt him to see her. Give her to the nurse.'
`Anna Arkadyevna, he has come. Here he is!' said the midwife, trying to attract her attention to Alexei Alexandrovich.
`Oh, what nonsense!' Anna went on, not seeing her husband. `No, give her to me; give me my little one! He has not come yet. You say he won't forgive me, because you don't know him. No one knows him. I'm the only one, and it was hard for me even. I ought to know his eyes - Seriozha has just such eyes - and I can't bear to see them because of it. Has Seriozha had his dinner? I know everyone will forget to do it. He would not forget.
Seriozha must be moved into the corner room, and Mariette must be asked to sleep with him.'
All of a sudden she shrank back, and was silent; and in terror, as though expecting a blow, as though to defend herself, she raised her hands to her face. She had seen her husband.
`No, no!' she began. `I am not afraid of him; I am afraid of death.
Alexei, come here. I am in a hurry, because I've no time, I haven't long left to live; the fever will begin directly and I shall understand nothing more. Now I understand, I understand it all - I see it all!'
Alexei Alexandrovich's wrinkled face wore an expression of suffering;he took her by the hand and tried to say something, but he could not utter it; his lower lip quivered, but he still went on struggling with his emotion, and only now and then glanced at her. And each time he glanced at her, he saw her eyes gazing at him with such passionate and exultant tenderness as he had never yet seen in them.
`Wait a minute, you don't know... Stay a little, stay!...' She stopped, as though collecting her ideas. `Yes,' she began, `yes, yes, yes!
This is what I wanted to say. Don't be surprised at me. I'm still the same...
But there is another woman in me - I'm afraid of her: she loved that man, and I tried to hate you, and could not forget about her that used to be.
That woman isn't myself. Now I'm my real self. I'm dying now, I know Ishall die - ask him. Even now I feel - see here, the weights on my feet, on my hands, on my fingers. My fingers - see how huge they are! But this will soon be all over... Only one thing I want: forgive me, forgive me quite. I'm terrible, but my nurse would tell me - the holy martyr - what was her name? She was worse. And I'll go to Rome; there's a wilderness, and there I shall be no trouble to anyone, only I'll take Seriozha and the little one.... No, you can't forgive me! I know, it can't be forgiven!
No, no, go away, you're too good!' She held his hand in one burning hand, while she pushed him away with the other.
The nervous agitation of Alexei Alexandrovich kept increasing, and had by now reached such a point that he ceased to struggle with it.
He suddenly felt that what he had regarded as nervous agitation was on the contrary a blissful spiritual condition that gave him all at once a new happiness he had never known. He did not think that the Christian law, which he had been all his life trying to follow, enjoined on him to forgive and love his enemies; but a joyous feeling of love and forgiveness for his enemies filled his heart. He knelt down, and laying his head in the curve of her arm, which burned him as with fire through the sleeve, he sobbed like a little child. She put her arm around his head, which was beginning to grow bald, moved toward him, and with defiant pride lifted up her eyes.
`That is he. I knew him! Now, good-by, everyone, good-by!... They've come again; why don't they go away?... Oh, take these fur coats off me!'
The doctor unloosed her hands, carefully laying her on the pillow, and covered her up to the shoulders. She lay back submissively, and looked before her with beaming eyes.
`Remember one thing, that I needed nothing but forgiveness, and I want nothing more.... Why doesn't he come?' she said, turning to the door, toward Vronsky. `Do come, do come! Give him your hand.'
Vronsky came to the side of the bed, and seeing Anna, again hid his face in his hands.
`Uncover your face - look at him! He's a saint,' she said. `Oh!
uncover your face, do uncover it!' she said angrily. `Alexei Alexandrovich, do uncover his face! I want to see him.'
Alexei Alexandrovich took Vronsky's hands and drew them away from his face, which was awful with the expression of agony and shame upon it.
`Give him your hand. Forgive him.'
Alexei Alexandrovich gave him his hand, not attempting to restrain the tears that streamed from his eyes.
`Thank God, thank God!' she said, `now everything is ready. Only to stretch my legs a little. There, that's capital. How badly these flowers are done - not a bit like a violet,' she said, pointing to the hangings.
`My God, my God! when will it end? Give me some morphine. Doctor, give me some morphine! Oh, my God, my God!'
