"Has he come to remain long, do you know?"
"Yes, I think he will be obliged to stay here more than a fortnight."
And Kiríll Matvyéevitch ran off to dress.
I paced up and down the hall several times. I do not remember that
Prince N***'s arrival produced any special impression on me at the time,
except that unpleasant sensation which usually takes possession of us at
the appearance of a new face in our domestic circle. Perhaps that
feeling was mingled with something in the nature of envy of the timid
and obscure Moscow man for the brilliant officer from Petersburg.--"The
Prince,"--I thought,--"is a dandy of the capital; he will look down on
us."... I had not seen him for more than a minute, but I had managed to
note that he was handsome, alert, and easy-mannered.
After pacing the hall for a while, I came to a halt, at last, in front
of a mirror, pulled from my pocket a tiny comb, imparted to my hair a
picturesque disorder and, as sometimes happens, suddenly became
engrossed in the contemplation of my own visage. I remember that my
attention was concentrated with particular solicitude on my nose; the
rather flabby and undefined outline of that feature was affording me no
special gratification--when, all of a sudden, in the dark depths of the
inclined glass, which reflected almost the entire room, the door opened,
and the graceful figure of Liza made its appearance. I do not know why I
did not stir and kept the same expression on my face. Liza craned her
head forward, gazed attentively at me and, elevating her eyebrows,
biting her lips, and holding her breath, like a person who is delighted
that he has not been seen, cautiously retreated, and softly drew the
door to after her. The door creaked faintly. Liza shuddered, and stood
stock-still on the spot.... I did not move.... Again she pulled at the
door-handle, and disappeared. There was no possibility of doubt: the
expression of Liza's face at the sight of my person denoted nothing
except a desire to beat a successful retreat, to avoid an unpleasant
meeting; the swift gleam of pleasure which I succeeded in detecting in
her eyes, when she thought that she really had succeeded in escaping
unperceived,--all that said but too clearly: that young girl was not in
love with me. For a long, long time I could not withdraw my gaze from
the motionless, dumb door, which again presented itself as a white spot
in the depths of the mirror; I tried to smile at my own upright
figure--hung my head, returned home, and flung myself on the divan. I
felt remarkably heavy at heart, so heavy that I could not weep .... and
what was there to weep about?.... "Can it be?"--I kept reiterating
incessantly, as I lay, like a dead man, on my back, and with my hands
folded on my breast:--"Can it be?".... How do you like that "Can it be?"
March 26. A thaw.
When, on the following day, after long hesitation and inward quailing, I
entered the familiar drawing-room of the Ozhógins', I was no longer the
same man whom they had known for the space of three weeks. All my former
habits, from which I had begun to wean myself under the influence of an
emotion which was new to me, had suddenly made their appearance again,
and taken entire possession of me like the owners returning to their
house.
People like myself are generally guided not so much by positive facts,
as by their own impressions; I, who, no longer ago than the previous
evening, had been dreaming of "the raptures of mutual love," to-day
cherished not the slightest doubt as to my own "unhappiness," and was in
utter despair, although I myself was not able to discover any reasonable
pretext for my despair. I could not be jealous of Prince N***, and
whatever merits he might possess, his mere arrival was not sufficient
instantly to extirpate Liza's inclination for me.... But stay!--did
that inclination exist? I recalled the past. "And the stroll in the
forest?" I asked myself. "And the expression of her face in the
mirror?"--"But," I went on,--"the stroll in the forest, apparently....
Phew, good heavens! What an insignificant being I am!" I exclaimed
aloud, at last. This is a specimen of the half-expressed, half-thought
ideas which, returning a thousand times, revolved in a monotonous
whirlwind in my head. I repeat,--I returned to the Ozhógins' the same
mistrustful, suspicious, constrained person that I had been from my
childhood....
I found the whole family in the drawing-room; Bizmyónkoff was sitting
there also, in one corner. All appeared to be in high spirits: Ozhógin,
in particular, was fairly beaming, and his first words were to
communicate to me that Prince N*** had spent the whole of the preceding
evening with them.--"Well," I said to myself, "now I understand why you
are in such good humour." I must confess that the Prince's second call
puzzled me. I had not expected that. Generally speaking, people like me
expect everything in the world except that which ought to happen in the
ordinary run of things. I sulked and assumed the aspect of a wounded,
but magnanimous man; I wanted to punish Liza for her ungraciousness;
from which, moreover, it must be concluded, that, nevertheless, I was
not yet in utter despair. They say, in some cases when you are really
beloved, it is even advantageous to torture the adored object; but in my
position, it was unutterably stupid. Liza, in the most innocent manner,
paid no attention whatever to me. Only old Madame Ozhógin noticed my
solemn taciturnity, and anxiously inquired after my health. Of course I
answered her with a bitter smile that "I was perfectly well, thank God."
Ozhógin continued to dilate on the subject of his visitor; but,
observing that I answered him reluctantly, he addressed himself chiefly
to Bizmyónkoff, who was listening to him with great attention, when a
footman entered and announced Prince N***. The master of the house
instantly sprang to his feet, and rushed forth to welcome him! Liza, on
whom I immediately darted an eagle glance, blushed with pleasure, and
fidgeted about on her chair. The Prince entered, perfumed, gay,
amiable....
As I am not composing a novel for the indulgent reader, but simply
writing for my own pleasure, there is no necessity for my having
recourse to the customary devices of the literary gentlemen. So I will
say at once, without further procrastination, that Liza, from the very
first day, fell passionately in love with the Prince, and the Prince
fell in love with her--partly for the lack of anything to do, but also
partly because Liza really was a very charming creature. There was
nothing remarkable in the fact that they fell in love with each other.
He, in all probability, had not in the least expected to find such a
pearl in such a wretched shell (I am speaking of the God-forsaken town
of O***), and she, up to that time, had never beheld, even in her
dreams, anything in the least like this brilliant, clever, fascinating
aristocrat.
After the preliminary greetings, Ozhógin introduced me to the Prince,
who treated me very politely. As a rule, he was polite to every one, and
despite the incommensurable distance which existed between him and our
obscure rural circle, he understood not only how to avoid embarrassing
any one, but even to have the appearance of being our equal, and of only
happening to live in St. Petersburg.
That first evening.... Oh, that first evening! In the happy days of our
childhood, our teachers used to narrate to us and hold up to us as an
example of manly fortitude the young Lacedæmonian who, having stolen a
fox and hidden it under his cloak, never once uttered a sound, but
permitted the animal to devour all his entrails, and thus preferred
death to dishonour.... I can find no better expression of my unutterable
sufferings in the course of that evening, when, for the first time, I
beheld the Prince by Liza's side. My persistent, constrained smile, my
anguished attention, my stupid taciturnity, my painful and vain longing
to depart, all this, in all probability, was extremely noticeable in its
way. Not one fox alone was ravaging my vitals--jealousy, envy, the
consciousness of my own insignificance, and impotent rage were rending
me. I could not but admit that the Prince was really a very amiable
young man.... I devoured him with my eyes; I really believe that I
forgot to wink as I gazed at him. He did not chat with Liza exclusively,
but, of course, he talked for her alone. I must have bored him
extremely..... He probably soon divined that he had to do with a
discarded lover, but, out of compassion for me, and also from a profound
sense of my perfect harmlessness, he treated me with extraordinary
gentleness. You can imagine how that hurt me!
I remember that, in the course of the evening, I tried to efface my
fault; I (do not laugh at me, whoever you may be under whose eyes these
lines may chance to fall, especially as this was my final dream) .... I
suddenly took it into my head, God is my witness, among the varied
torments, that Liza was trying to punish me for my arrogant coldness at
the beginning of my visit; that she was angry with me, and was flirting
with the Prince merely out of vexation at me. I seized a convenient
opportunity, and approaching her with a meek but caressing smile, I
murmured: "Enough, forgive me ... however, I do not ask it because I am
afraid"--and without awaiting her answer, I suddenly imparted to my face
an unusually vivacious and easy expression, gave a wry laugh, threw my
hand up over my head in the direction of the ceiling (I remember that I
was trying to adjust my neckcloth), and was even on the point of
wheeling round on one foot, as much as to say: "All is over, I 'm in
fine spirits, let every one be in fine spirits!" but I did not wheel
round, nevertheless, because I was afraid of falling, owing to an
unnatural stiffness in my knees... Liza did not understand me in the
least, looked into my face with surprise, smiled hurriedly, as though
desirous of getting rid of me as promptly as possible, and again
approached the Prince. Blind and deaf as I was, I could not but inwardly
admit that she was not at all angry nor vexed with me at that moment;
she simply was not thinking about me. The blow was decisive, my last
hopes crumbled to ruin with a crash--as a block of ice penetrated with
the spring sun suddenly crumbles into tiny fragments. I had received a
blow on the head at the first assault, and, like the Prussians at Jena,
in one day I lost everything. No, she was not angry with me!...
Alas! on the contrary! She herself--I could see that--was being
undermined, as with a billow. Like a young sapling, which has already
half deserted the bank, she bent eagerly forward over the flood, ready
to surrender to it both the first blossoming of her spring, and her
whole life. Any one to whose lot it has fallen to be a witness to such
an infatuation has lived through bitter moments, if he himself loved and
was not beloved. I shall forever remember the devouring attention,
the tender gaiety, the innocent self-forgetfulness, the glance,
half-childish and already womanly, the happy smile which blossomed
forth, as it were, and never left the half-parted lips and the blushing
cheeks.... Everything of which Liza had had a dim foreboding during our
stroll in the grove had now come to pass--and she, surrendering herself
wholly to love, had, at the same time, grown quiet and sparkling like
young wine which has ceased to ferment, because its time has come....
I had the patience to sit out that first evening, and the evenings which
followed .... all, to the very end! I could cherish no hope whatsoever.
Liza and the Prince grew more and more attached to each other with every
day that passed..... But I positively lost all sense of my own dignity,
and could not tear myself away from the spectacle of my unhappiness. I
remember that one day I made an effort not to go, gave myself my word of
honour in the morning that I would remain at home,--and at eight o'clock
in the evening (I usually went out at seven), I jumped up like a
lunatic, put on my hat, and ran, panting, to Kiríll Matvyéevitch's.
My position was extremely awkward; I maintained obdurate silence, and
sometimes for days at a stretch never uttered a sound. I have never been
distinguished for eloquence, as I have already said; but now every bit
of sense I had seemed to fly away in the presence of the Prince, and I
remained as poor as a church mouse. Moreover, in private, I forced my
unhappy brain to toil to such a degree, slowly pondering over everything
I had marked or noted in the course of the preceding day, that when I
returned to the Ozhógins', I hardly had enough strength left to continue
my observations. They spared me as they would a sick man, I saw that.
Every morning I reached a fresh, definitive decision, which had chiefly
been hatched out during a sleepless night. Now I prepared to have an
explanation with Liza, to give her some friendly advice ... but when I
happened to be alone with her, my tongue suddenly ceased to act, as
though it had congealed, and we both painfully awaited the appearance of
a third person; then, again, I wanted to flee, for good and all, leaving
behind me, for the object of my affections of course, a letter filled
with reproaches; and one day I set about that letter, but the sense of
justice had not yet quite vanished from within me; I understood that I
had no right to upbraid any one for anything, and flung my note into
the fire; again I suddenly offered the whole of myself as a sacrifice,
in magnanimous fashion, and gave Liza my blessing, wishing her happiness
in her love, and smiled in a gentle and friendly way on the Prince from
a corner. But the hard-hearted lovers not only did not thank me for my
sacrifice, they did not even perceive it, and evidently stood in no need
either of my blessings or of my smiles.... Then, with vexation, I
suddenly passed over into the diametrically opposite frame of mind. I
promised myself, as I swathed myself in my cloak, Spanish fashion, to
cut the lucky rival's throat from round a corner, and with the joy of a
wild beast, I pictured to myself Liza's despair.... But, in the first
place, in the town of O*** there were very few such corners, and, in the
second place, a board fence, a street-lantern, a policeman in the
distance.... No! at such a corner as that it would be more seemly to
peddle rings of bread than to shed human blood. I must confess that,
among other means of deliverance,--as I very indefinitely expressed it
when holding a conference with myself,--I thought of appealing straight
to Mr. Ozhógin .... of directing the attention of that nobleman to the
dangerous position of his daughter, to the sad consequences of her
frivolity.... I even began to talk with him one day on the very ticklish
subject, but framed my speech so craftily and obscurely, that he
listened and listened to me, and suddenly, as though awaking from sleep,
swiftly rubbed the palm of his hand all over his face, not sparing even
his nose, snorted, and walked away from me.
It is needless to say that, on adopting that decision, I assured myself
that I was acting from the most disinterested motives, that I was
desirous of the universal welfare, that I was fulfilling the duty of a
friend of the family.... But I venture to think that even if Kiríll
Matvyéevitch had not cut short my effusions, I should still have lacked
the courage to finish my monologue. I sometimes undertook, with the
pompousness of an ancient sage, to weigh the Prince's merits; I
sometimes comforted myself with the hope that it was merely a passing
fancy, that Liza would come to her senses, that her love was not genuine
love.... Oh, no! In a word, I do not know of a thought over which I did
not brood at that time. One remedy alone, I frankly confess, never
entered my head; namely, it never once occurred to me to commit suicide.
Why that did not occur to me, I do not know.... Perhaps even then I had
a foreboding that I had not long to live in any case.
It is easy to understand that, under such untoward conditions, my
conduct, my behaviour toward other people, was more characterised by
unnaturalness and constraint than ever. Even old lady Ozhógin--that
dull-witted being--began to shun me, and at times did not know from
which side to approach me. Bizmyónkoff, always courteous and ready to be
of service, avoided me. It also seemed to me then that in him I had a
fellow-sufferer, that he also loved Liza. But he never replied to my
hints, and, in general, talked to me with reluctance. The Prince behaved
in a very friendly manner to him; I may say that the Prince respected
him. Neither Bizmyónkoff nor I interfered with the Prince and Liza; but
he did not shun them as I did, he did not look like a wolf nor like a
victim--and gladly joined them whenever they wished it. He did not
distinguish himself particularly by jocularity on such occasions, it is
true; but even in times past there had been a quiet element in his
mirth.
In this manner about two weeks passed. The Prince was not only
good-looking and clever: he played on the piano, sang, drew very
respectably, and knew how to narrate well. His anecdotes, drawn from the
highest circles of society in the capital, always produced a strong
impression on the hearers, which was all the more powerful because he
himself did not seem to attribute any particular importance to them....
The consequence of this guile, if you choose to call it so, on the
Prince's part was, that in the course of his brief sojourn in the town
of O*** he absolutely bewitched the whole of society there. It is
always very easy for a man from the highest circles to bewitch us
steppe-dwellers. The Prince's frequent calls on the Ozhógins (he spent
his evenings at their house), as a matter of course, aroused the envy of
the other nobles and officials; but the Prince, being a man of the world
and clever, did not neglect a single one of them, called on all of them,
said at least one pleasant word to all the dames and young ladies,
permitted himself to be stuffed with laboriously-heavy viands and
treated to vile wines with magnificent appellations; in a word, behaved
himself admirably, cautiously, and cleverly. Prince N*** was,
altogether, a man of cheerful disposition, sociable, amiable by
inclination, and as a matter of calculation also: how was it possible
for him to be otherwise than a complete success in every way?
From the time of his arrival, every one in the house had thought that
the time flew by with remarkable swiftness; everything went splendidly;
old Ozhógin, although he pretended not to notice anything, was, in all
probability, secretly rubbing his hands at the thought of having such a
son-in-law. The Prince himself was conducting the whole affair very
quietly and decorously, when, all of a sudden, an unforeseen event ....
Until to-morrow. To-day I am weary. These reminiscences chafe me, even
on the brink of the grave. Teréntievna thought to-day that my nose had
grown even more pointed; and that 's a bad sign, they say.
March 27. The thaw continues.
Matters were in the above-described condition: the Prince and Liza loved
each other, the elder Ozhógins were waiting to see what would happen;
Bizmyónkoff was present also--nothing else could be said of him; I was
flopping like a fish on the ice, and keeping watch to the best of my
ability,--I remember that at that time I appointed to myself the task of
at least not allowing Liza to perish in the snare of the seducer, and in
consequence thereof, I had begun to pay particular attention to the
maid-servants and the fatal "back" entrance--although, on the other
hand, I sometimes dreamed for whole nights together about the touching
magnanimity with which, in the course of time, I would extend my hand to
the deluded victim and say to her: "The wily man has betrayed thee;
but I am thy faithful friend.... let us forget the past and be
happy!"--when, suddenly, a joyful piece of news was disseminated
throughout the town: the Marshal of Nobility for the county intended to
give a large ball in honour of the respected visitor, at his own estate
Gornostáevka, also called Gubnyakóva. All the hierarchies and powers of
the town of O*** received invitations, beginning with the chief of
police and ending with the apothecary, a remarkably pimple-faced
German, with cruel pretensions to the ability to speak Russian purely,
in consequence of which, he was constantly using violent expressions
with absolute inappropriateness, as, for instance: "Devil take me, I
feel a dashing fine fellow to-day."[10]... Terrible preparations began,
as was fitting. One cosmetic-shop sold sixteen dark-blue jars of pomade,
with the inscription, "à la jesmin" with the Russian character denoting
the hard pronunciation after the _n_. The young ladies supplied
themselves with stiff gowns, torturingly tight at the waist-line, and
with promontories on the stomach; the mammas erected on their own heads
formidable decorations, under the pretext that they were caps; the
bustling fathers lay without their hind legs, as the saying is.[11]...
The longed-for day arrived at last. I was among those invited. The
distance from the town to Gornostáevka was reckoned at nine versts.
Kiríla Matvyéevitch offered me a seat in his carriage; but I
declined.... Thus do chastised children, desirous of revenging
themselves well on their parents, refuse their favourite viands at
table. Moreover, I felt that my presence would embarrass Liza.
Bizmyónkoff took my place. The Prince drove out in his own calash, I in
a miserable drozhky, which I had hired at an exorbitant price for this
festive occasion.
I will not describe the ball. Everything about it was as usual:
musicians with remarkably false horns in the gallery; flustered landed
proprietors with antiquated families; lilac ice-cream, slimy orgeat; men
in patched boots and knitted cotton gloves; provincial lions with
convulsively-distorted faces; and so forth, and so forth. And all this
little world circled round its sun--round the Prince. Lost in the
throng, unnoticed even by the maidens of eight-and-forty with pimples on
their brows and blue flowers on their temples, I kept incessantly gazing
now at the Prince, now at Liza. She was very charmingly dressed and very
pretty that evening. They only danced together twice (he danced the
mazurka[12] with her, 't is true!), but, at all events, so it seemed to
_me_, there existed between them a certain mysterious, unbroken
communication. Even when he was not looking at her, was not talking to
her, he seemed constantly to be addressing her, and her alone; he was
handsome and brilliant, and charming with others--for her alone. She was
evidently conscious that she was the queen of the ball--and beloved; her
face simultaneously beamed with childish joy and innocent pride, and
then suddenly was lighted up with a different, a more profound feeling.
She exhaled an atmosphere of happiness. I observed all this.... It was
not the first time I had had occasion to watch them.... At first this
greatly pained me, then it seemed to touch me, and at last it enraged
me. I suddenly felt myself remarkably malicious and, I remember, I
rejoiced wonderfully over this new sensation, and even conceived a
certain respect for myself. "Let 's show them that we have n't perished
yet!" I said to myself. When the first sounds summoning to the mazurka
thundered out, I calmly glanced around, coldly, and with much ease of
manner, approached a long-faced young lady with a red and shining nose,
an awkwardly gaping mouth, which looked as though it had been
unhooked, and a sinewy neck, which reminded one of the handle of a
bass-viol,--approached her, and curtly clicking my heels together,
invited her for the dance. She wore a pink gown, which seemed to have
faded recently and not quite completely; above her head quivered some
sort of a faded melancholy fly on a very thick brass spring; and,
altogether, the young woman was impregnated through and through, if one
may so express one's self, with a sort of sour boredom and antiquated
ill-success. From the very beginning of the evening, she had not stirred
from her seat; no one had thought of asking her to dance. One
sixteen-year-old youth, in default of any other partner, had been on
the point of appealing to this young woman, and had already taken one
step in her direction, but had bethought himself, taken one look, and
briskly concealed himself in the crowd. You can imagine with what joyful
surprise she accepted my proposal!
I solemnly led her the whole length of the hall, found two chairs, and
seated myself with her in the circle of the mazurka, the tenth pair,
almost opposite the Prince, to whom, of course, the first place had been
conceded. The Prince, as I have already said, was dancing with Liza.
Neither my partner nor I were incommoded with invitations; consequently,
we had plenty of time for conversation. Truth to tell, my lady was not
distinguished by ability to utter words in coherent speech: she employed
her mouth more for the execution of a strange downward smile, hitherto
unbeheld by me; at the same time, she rolled her eyes upward, as though
some invisible force were stretching her face; but I had no need of her
eloquence. Fortunately, I felt vicious, and my partner did not inspire
me with timidity. I set to criticising everything and everybody in the
world, laying special stress on whipper-snappers from the capital, and
Petersburg fops, and waxed so angry, at last, that my lady gradually
ceased to smile, and instead of rolling her eyes upward, she suddenly
began--with amazement, it must have been--to look cross-eyed, and in
such a queer way, to boot, as though she had perceived, for the first
time, that she had a nose on her face; and my next neighbour, one of
those lions of whom I have spoken above, more than once scanned me with
a glance, even turned to me with the expression of an actor on the stage
who has waked up in an unknown land, as much as to say: "Art thou still
at it?" However, while I sang like a nightingale, as the saying is, I
still continued to watch the Prince and Liza. They were constantly
invited; but I suffered less when both of them were dancing; and even
when they were sitting side by side and chatting with each other, and
smiling with that gentle smile which refuses to leave the face of happy
lovers,--even then I was not so greatly pained; but when Liza was
fluttering through the hall with some gallant dandy, and the Prince,
with her blue gauze scarf on his knees, thoughtfully followed her with
his eyes, as though admiring his conquest,--then, oh, then I experienced
unbearable tortures, and in my vexation I emitted such malicious
remarks, that the pupils of my partner's eyes reclined completely from
both sides, on her nose!
In the meantime, the mazurka was drawing to a close.... They began to
execute the figure known as "la confidente." In this figure the lady
seats herself in the centre of the circle, chooses another lady for her
confidante and whispers in her ear the name of the gentleman with whom
she wishes to dance; the cavalier leads up to her the dancers, one by
one, and the confidante refuses them until, at last, the happy man who
has already been designated makes his appearance. Liza sat in the centre
of the circle, and chose the daughter of the hostess, one of those young
girls of whom it is said that they are "God bless them."[13] The Prince
began to search for the chosen man. In vain did he present about half a
score of young men (the hostess' daughter refused them all, with a
pleasant smile), and, at last, had recourse to me. Something unusual
took place in me at that moment: I seemed to wink with my whole body,
and tried to decline; nevertheless, I rose and went. The Prince
conducted me to Liza.... She did not even glance at me; the hostess'
daughter shook her head in negation, the Prince turned toward me, and,
prompted probably by the goose-like expression of my face, made me a
profound bow. This mocking reverence, this refusal, presented to me by
my triumphant rival, his negligent smile, Liza's indifferent
inattention,--all this provoked an explosion on my part. I stepped up to
the Prince and whispered in a frenzied rage: "I think you are permitting
yourself to jeer at me?"
The Prince stared at me with scornful surprise, again took me by the
hand, and with the air of leading me back to my seat, replied coldly:
"I?"
"Yes, you, you!"--I went on in a whisper, obeying him, nevertheless;
that is to say, following him to my seat;--"you! But I do not intend to
allow any frivolous Petersburg upstart ..."
The Prince smiled calmly, almost patronisingly, gripped my hand hard,
whispered: "I understand you; but this is not the proper place; we will
talk it over," turned away from me, approached Bizmyónkoff and led him
to Liza. The pale little petty official proved to be the chosen
cavalier. Liza rose to meet him.
As I sat beside my partner with the melancholy fly on her head, I felt
myself almost a hero. My heart thumped violently within me, my bosom
swelled nobly under my starched shirt-front, my breath came fast and
deep--and all of a sudden, I stared at the adjacent lion in so
magnificent a manner, that he involuntarily wiggled the leg which was
turned toward me. Having rid myself of this man, I ran my eyes over the
circle of dancers.... It seemed to me that two or three gentlemen were
gazing at me not without amazement; but, on the whole, my conversation
with the Prince had not been noticed.... My rival was already seated on
his chair, perfectly composed, and with his former smile on his face.
Bizmyónkoff led Liza to her place. She gave him a friendly nod and
immediately turned to the Prince, as it seemed to me, with a certain
anxiety; but he laughed in response, waved his hand gracefully, and must
have said something very agreeable to her, for she flushed all over with
pleasure, dropped her eyes, and then riveted them on him once more with
affectionate reproach.
The heroic frame of mind which had suddenly developed in me did not
disappear until the end of the mazurka; but I made no more jests, and
did not criticise, and merely cast a severe and gloomy glance from time
to time at my lady, who was, evidently, beginning to be afraid of me,
and was reduced to a state of complete stammering and winked
incessantly, when I led her to the natural stronghold of her mother, a
very fat woman with a red head-dress. Having handed over the frightened
young girl as behooved me, I walked off to the window, clasped my hands,
and waited to see what would happen. I waited a good while. The Prince
was constantly surrounded by the host,--precisely that, surrounded, as
England is surrounded by the sea,--not to mention the other members of
the county Marshal of the Nobility's family, and the other guests; and,
moreover, he could not, without arousing universal surprise, approach
such an insignificant man as I, and enter into conversation with him.
This insignificance of mine, I remember, was even a source of delight
to me then. "Fiddlesticks!" I thought, as I watched him turning
courteously now to one, now to another respected personage who sought
the honour of being noticed by him, if only for "the twinkling of an
eye," as the poets say:--"Fiddlesticks, my dear fellow!.... Thou wilt
come to me by and by--for I have insulted thee."
At last the Prince, having cleverly got rid of the crowd of his adorers,
strode past me, darted a glance, not exactly at the window, nor yet
exactly at my hair, was on the point of turning away, and suddenly came
to a halt, as though he had just remembered something.
"Akh, yes!"--he said, addressing me with a smile;--"by the way, I have a
little matter of business with you."
Two landed proprietors, the most persistent of all, who were obstinately
following up the Prince, probably thought that the "little matter of
business" was connected with the service, and respectfully retreated.
The Prince put his arm in mine, and led me to one side. My heart thumped
in my breast.
"You,"--he began, drawling out the word _you_, and staring at my chin
with a contemptuous expression which, strange to say, was infinitely
becoming to his fresh, handsome face,--"you said something insolent to
me, I believe."
"I said what I thought,"--I retorted, raising my voice.
"Ssssh .... speak more quietly,"--he remarked:--"well-bred men do not
shout. Perhaps you would like to fight with me?"
"That is your affair,"--I replied, drawing myself up.
"I shall be compelled to call you out,"--he said carelessly,--"if you do
not withdraw your expressions...."
"I have no intention of withdrawing anything,"--I retorted proudly.
"Really?"--he remarked, not without a sneering smile.--"In that
case,"--he went on, after a brief pause,--"I shall have the honour to
send my second to you to-morrow."
"Very well, sir,"--I said in the most indifferent tone I could muster.
The Prince bowed slightly.
"I cannot forbid you to think me a frivolous man,"--he added, arrogantly
narrowing his eyes;--"but it is impossible that the Princes N*** should
be upstarts. Farewell for the present, Mr.... Mr. Shtukatúrin."
He quickly turned his back on me, and again approached his host, who had
already begun to grow agitated.
"Mr. Shtukatúrin"!.... My name is Tchulkatúrin.... I could find no reply
to make to this last insult of his, and only stared after him in a
violent rage.--"Farewell until to-morrow," I whispered, setting my
teeth, and immediately hunted up an officer of my acquaintance, Captain
Koloberdyáeff of the uhlans, a desperate carouser and a splendid fellow,
narrated to him in a few words my quarrel with the Prince, and asked him
to be my second. He, of course, immediately consented, and I wended my
way homeward.
I could not get to sleep all night--from agitation, not from
pusillanimity. I am no coward. I even thought very little indeed about
the impending possibility of losing my life, that highest good on earth,
according to the Germans. I thought of Liza only, of my dead hopes, of
what I ought to do. "Ought I to try to kill the Prince?" I asked myself,
and, of course, wanted to kill him,--not out of vengeance, but out of a
desire for Liza's good. "But she will not survive that blow," I went on.
"No, it will be better to let him kill me!"
I confess that it was also pleasant to me to think that I, an obscure
man from the country, had forced so important a personage to fight a
duel with me.
Dawn found me engrossed in these cogitations; and later in the morning,
Koloberdyáeff presented himself.
"Well,"--he asked me, noisily entering my bedroom,--"and where 's the
Prince's second?"
"Why, good gracious!"--I replied with vexation,--"it 's only seven
o'clock in the morning now; I presume the Prince is still fast asleep."
"In that case,"--returned the irrepressible cavalry-captain,--"order
them to give me some tea. I have a headache from last night's
doings..... I have n't even been undressed. However,"--he added with a
yawn,--"I rarely do undress anyway."
Tea was served to him. He drank six glasses with rum, smoked four pipes,
told me that on the preceding day he had bought for a song a horse which
the coachmen had given up as a bad job, and intended to break it in by
tying up one of its forelegs,--and fell asleep, without undressing, on
the couch, with his pipe still in his mouth. I rose, and put my papers
in order. One note of invitation from Liza, the only note I had received
from her, I was on the point of putting in my breast, but changed my
mind, and tossed it into a box. Koloberdyáeff was snoring faintly, with
his head hanging down from the leather cushions.... I remember that I
surveyed for a long time his dishevelled, dashing, care-free and kindly
face. At ten o'clock my servant announced the arrival of Bizmyónkoff.
The Prince had selected him for his second.
Together we roused the soundly-sleeping captain. He rose, stared at us
with eyes owlishly stupid from sleep, and in a hoarse voice asked for
vodka;--he recovered himself, and after having exchanged salutes with
Bizmyónkoff, went out with him into the next room for consultation. The
conference of the seconds did not last long. A quarter of an hour later
they both came to me in my bedroom; Koloberdyáeff announced to me that
"we shall fight to-day, at three o'clock, with pistols." I silently
bowed my head, in token of assent. Bizmyónkoff immediately took leave of
us, and drove away. He was somewhat pale and inwardly agitated, like a
man who is not accustomed to that sort of performance, but was very
polite and cold. I seemed, somehow, to feel ashamed in his presence, and
I did not dare to look him in the eye.
Koloberdyáeff began to talk about his horse again. This conversation was
very much to my taste. I was afraid he might mention Liza. But my good
captain was no scandal-monger, and, more than that, he despised all
women, calling them, God knows why, "salad." At two o'clock we lunched,
and at three were already on the field of action--in that same
birch-grove where I had once strolled with Liza, a couple of paces from
that cliff.
We were the first to arrive. But the Prince and Bizmyónkoff did not make
us wait long for them. The Prince was, without exaggeration, as fresh as
a rose; his brown eyes gazed out with extreme affability from beneath
the visor of his military cap. He was smoking a straw cigar, and on
catching sight of Koloberdyáeff he shook hands with him in a cordial
manner. He even bowed very charmingly to me. I, on the contrary, felt
conscious that I was pale, and my hands, to my intense vexation, were
trembling slightly;... my throat was dry... Never, up to that time, had
I fought a duel. "O God!" I thought; "if only that sneering gentleman
does not take my agitation for timidity!" I inwardly consigned my nerves
to all the fiends; but on glancing, at last, straight at the Prince's
face, and catching on his lips an almost imperceptible smile, I suddenly
became inflated with wrath, and immediately recovered my equanimity.
In the meantime, our seconds had arranged the barrier, had paced off the
distance, and loaded the pistols. Koloberdyáeff did most of the active
part; Bizmyónkoff chiefly watched him. It was a magnificent day--quite
equal to the day of the never-to-be-forgotten stroll. The dense azure of
the sky again peeped through the gilded green of the leaves. Their
rustling seemed to excite me. The Prince continued to smoke his cigar,
as he leaned his shoulder against the trunk of a linden....
"Be so good as to take your places, gentlemen; all is ready,"--said
Koloberdyáeff at last, handing us the pistols.
The Prince retreated a few paces, halted, and turning his head back
over his shoulder, asked me: "And do you still refuse to withdraw your
words?"... I tried to answer him; but my voice failed me, and I
contented myself with a disdainful motion of the hand. The Prince
laughed again, and took his place. We began to approach each other. I
raised my pistol, and was on the point of taking aim at the breast of my
enemy,--at that moment he really was my enemy,--but suddenly elevated
the barrel, as though some one had jogged my elbow, and fired. The
Prince staggered, raised his left hand to his left temple--a thin stream
of blood trickled down his cheek from beneath his white wash-leather
glove. Bizmyónkoff flew to him.
"It is nothing,"--he said, taking off his cap, which had been
perforated;--"if it did not enter my head, that means it is only a
scratch."
He calmly pulled a batiste handkerchief from his pocket, and laid it on
his curls, which were wet with blood. I looked at him as though
petrified, and did not stir from the spot.
"Please go to the barrier!"--remarked Koloberdyáeff to me with severity.