Letters of Anton Chekhov (Tchekhov) - Penn State University

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Letters of Anton Chekhov to His Family and Friends with biographical sketchNAPLES, April 7, 1891.Yesterday I went to Pompeii and went over it. As you know, it is aRoman town buried under the lava and ashes of Vesuvius in 79A.D. I walked about the streets of the town and saw the houses, thetemples, the theatre, the squares …. I saw and marvelled at thefaculty of the Romans for combining simplicity with convenienceand beauty. After viewing Pompeii, I lunched at a restaurant andthen decided to go to Vesuvius. The excellent red wine I had drunkhad a great deal to do with this decision. I had to ride on horsebackto the foot of Vesuvius. I have in consequence to-day a sensation insome parts of my mortal frame as though I had been in the ThirdDivision, and had there been flogged. What an agonising businessit is climbing up Vesuvius! Ashes, mountains of lava, solid waves ofmolten minerals, mounds of earth, and every sort of abomination.You take one step forward and fall half a step back, the soles of yourfeet hurt you, your breathing is oppressed …. You go on and on andon, and it is still a long way to the top. You wonder whether to turnback, but you are ashamed to turn back, you would be laughed at.The ascent began at half-past two, and ended at six. The crater ofVesuvius is a great many yards in diameter. I stood on its edge andlooked down as into a cup. The soil around, covered by a layer ofsulphur, was smoking vigorously. From the crater rose white stinkingsmoke; spurts of hot water and red-hot stones fly out whileSatan lies snoring under cover of the smoke. The noise is rathermixed, you hear in it the beating of breakers and the roar of thunder,and the rumble of the railway line and the falling of planks. It isvery terrible, and at the same time one has an impulse to jump rightinto the crater. I believe in hell now. The lava has such a high temperaturethat copper coins melt in it.Coming down was as horrid as going up. You sink up to yourknees in ashes. I was fearfully tired. I went back on horseback througha little village and by houses; there was a glorious fragrance and themoon was shining. I sniffed, gazed at the moon, and thought ofher—that is, of Lika L.All the summer, noble gentlemen, we shall have no money, andthe thought of that spoils my appetite. I have got into debt for a238
Anton Chekhovthousand for a tour, which I could have made solo for three hundredroubles. All my hopes now are in the fools of amateurs who aregoing to act my “Bear.”Have you taken a house for the holidays, signori? You treat mepiggishly, you write nothing to me, and I don’t know what’s goingon, and how things are at home.Humble respects to you all. Take care of yourselves, and don’tcompletely forget me.239
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Letters of Anton Chekhov (Tchekhov) - Penn State University

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