"Oh, Petka, Petka," he said, "you are a bad, bad son. Look at the mischief you have done. My, my, my! And what could have been better than to live on quietly and peacefully, nicely and easily with father and old granny? But no! Crash! Bang! I am my own master, I've got a head on my shoulders, too! Well, there's your head! My, what trouble!"
Not a muscle quivered in his wooden face, not a note in his voice sounded like an appeal to a prodigal son. But, then, there was nobody to hear his words, for Arina Petrovna was the only one beside himself in the room, and as a result of the shock she had just gone through she seemed to have lost all vitality, and sat near the samovar, her mouth open, looking straight ahead, without hearing anything, without a single thought in her mind.
Then life flowed on as usual, full of idle bustle and babbling. Contrary to Petenka's expectations, Porfiry Vladimirych took the maternal curse quite coolly and did not recede a hair's breadth from the decision that had come from his head full-formed, as it were.
It is true he turned slightly pale and rushed toward his mother with a cry:
"Mother, dear! Darling! Lord be with you! Be calm, dear! God is merciful. All will be well."
But his words were expressive of alarm for her rather than for himself. Her act had been so unexpected that Yudushka even forgot to pretend to be frightened. Only last night his mother had been affectionate, had jested, and played fool with Yevpraksia. Evidently, then, it had all happened in a moment of sudden anger, and there was nothing premeditated, nothing real about it all.
Indeed, he had been very much afraid of his mother's curse but he had pictured it quite differently. In his idle mind he had built an elaborate staging for the occasion, ikons, burning candles, his mother standing in the center of the room, terrible, with a darkened face as she hurled the curse. Then, thunder, candles going out, the veil tearing asunder, darkness covering the earth, and above, amidst the clouds the wrathful countenance of Jehovah illumined by a flash of lightning. But nothing of the sort had happened, so his mother had simply done something rash and silly. And she had had no reason to curse him in earnest, because of late there had been no cause for quarreling. Many changes had occurred since Yudushka expressed his doubt as to whether a certain coach belonged to his mother dear (Yudushka admitted to _himself_ that _then_ he had been wrong and deserved damnation). Arina Petrovna had become more submissive, and Porfiry Vladimirych had but one thought in his head: how to placate his mother dear.