Chapter 34

Chapter 342,096 wordsCompleted

The chapter opens with Vasaris still bruised by the recent Naujapolio indulgences. Although Kapelionas Laibys’s bold words and Liucija’s gentle femininity had initially lifted his spirits, Vasaris now sits in his cell, unable to write a single poem. He tries repeatedly to grasp any motive that could spark his imagination, but every attempt feels empty; he concludes that he has been unable to write for two years.

Desperate for a reason, he ponders his loss of energy, recalling that his poetic “strength” still exists but his consciousness feels dead. He reflects on Liudas Vasaris’s theory that poetry draws from both a strong, unified self and a lived, vivid world—both of which he now lacks.

At night, around midnight, Vasaris puts on a cloak and hat and silently opens the garden gate of the seminary. The cloister is dark, the chapel’s windows dim, and the whole complex is shrouded in silence. He walks aimlessly, feeling an inexplicable compulsion to go deeper into the garden. The path leads him past a statue of a saint, through a wilted grove, and finally to the chapel’s inner sanctuary. Inside, he notices a black cross on the altar and a grave of a dead priest, a “klebonas” who had built the church. The sight of the grave and the chill of the stone overwhelm him; he feels a sudden, almost tactile sensation on his face like a feather and a fierce, convulsive gasp, yet he presses on.

Leaving the chapel, he returns to the garden, passes through the iron‑grated cemetery, and emerges onto a path leading toward the manor (dvaras). The cold autumn wind bites his face, and his cloak flutters. He approaches the manor’s illuminated windows and sees a woman—Baronienė—standing at a balcony, her silhouette against the light. Her gaze meets his for a fleeting moment; she appears both seductive and threatening, embodying a “sinful” allure contrasted with the earlier gentle Liucija. Vasaris’s mind races with conflicting images: the baroness’s cold, aristocratic menace versus Liucija’s warm, humane kindness.

While moving toward the manor’s gate, Vasaris hears fragments of conversation about “Stripaičio” and “Girvydas,” and recalls that Girvydas had high expectations of him, while Laibys’s words had once sparked his courage. Yet now he feels “cold, without feeling or imagination,” unable to produce any verse. He continues walking, passing the manor’s courtyard, hearing distant laughter, and finally reaches the seminary’s outer wall, where he pauses, breathless, contemplating returning to his cell.

The chapter ends with Vasaris back in his modest room, lying down, and drifting into sleep. In his half‑dream he resolves that, after visiting the manor, he will speak again with the baroness—whom he now sees as a symbol of the forbidden, alluring world that his priestly life denies him—hinting at a future encounter that may challenge his vows and his poetic aspirations.