I had several opportunities of seeing the two young Tsars, as well as
the Regent, at this time. The contrast between the elder and younger
sovereign was almost incredible--Ivan, the elder, a puny, unwholesome,
puffy, sickly-looking lad of some fifteen years, timid and inclined to
weep when spoken to, glad to retire from the public eye; Peter, the
younger, upright, and very tall for his age--he was scarcely more than
ten, indeed, but he was already taller than his brother--fearless,
dominant, gazing round with the proud and defiant air of the lion,
answering boldly and with dignity both to the questions which were
addressed to himself and also those to which Ivan should have replied.
For when Ivan was addressed he would flush and hesitate and look as
though he must presently burst into tears. Then he would glance at his
brother, and the child Peter would speak for him, unless indeed the
Regent were present, in which case she would reply for both.
The two princes occupied a double throne, which consisted of two chairs
separated by a space of a foot or two, which space was covered or veiled
by a silken screen, behind which sat and listened, and sometimes
prompted, the Regent Sophia.
I soon conversed with the little Tsar Peter, whose frank manner
captivated me. Seeing that I was a Cossack officer, he questioned me
closely as to the feats of horsemanship for which our tribes are famous,
bidding me describe some of these, which, to the best of my power, I
did.
‘When I am older you shall come up to Moscow and teach me,’ he said: ‘I
shall learn all these tricks of riding. What are the qualities necessary
for one who will excel?’
‘First, patience in practice, Highness,’ said I; ‘then suppleness of
body, and, chief of all, courage or nerve, and the determination to
laugh when you tumble and not to be deterred by a little pain or even a
broken bone.’
‘Well, you shall show me one day,’ said the Prince, ‘and afterwards I
will decide whether it is worth while to learn.’
Mazeppa was very friendly with both Sophia and her favourite friend and
counsellor, Galitsin, one of the ablest men that Russia has yet
produced, though a poor general, as we shall soon learn. Between these
three there were held many secret councils, and I have little doubt that
Mazeppa at this time arranged many things both to his own satisfaction
and to theirs with regard to the future politics of our tribes. He
learned his lesson well, indeed, for I know that he was never afterwards
in doubt when any point arose for discussion as to the wishes of our
suzerain power--Russia.
Mazeppa had resigned his ambitious matrimonial project without, as it
seemed, a pang of regret. But, as though to console himself for the
sacrifice, he bestowed much time to the society of one who could
scarcely have been more different in every respect from the Regent
Sophia, a little maiden--daughter of a well-to-do Boyar, one Kurbatof,
by a French wife--Vera Kurbatof, who by virtue of her semi-foreign birth
was not condemned to the seclusion of the _terem_, or ‘woman’s
department,’ in which most maidens of her day were obliged to pass their
existence.
Vera was very young and very beautiful, and there is no doubt that
Mazeppa soon lost his heart to her, delighting in her society and
spending all the time that he could spare in the endeavour to make
himself agreeable to her. Vera, it seemed to me, was less fascinated by
Mazeppa than he by her, a circumstance which I was glad to perceive,
for throughout our long friendship it has been my habit to pity any lady
upon whom Mazeppa is disposed to bestow the illusory boon of his
affections. Mazeppa’s heart was ever soft and susceptible, and ever
inconstant. Woe to every maiden who should listen to the voice of this
most fickle of wooers, for his love was a hostage for many tears.
It were wasted time indeed to dwell upon the tale of this as of any
other of Mazeppa’s excursions in love, but that in this particular
matter there is much to be told that concerns others besides himself,
for this Vera is to occupy a large space in these records.
And the first intimation I had that there might be more in this than in
others of the countless love affairs in which I have seen my friend
involved was that one day--shortly before we left Moscow to return to
the Ukraine--the Princess Sophia bade me, with a laugh, ‘look whereto
converge the eyes of thy friend and of another.’
I followed the gaze of the Princess: she was looking at Vera Kurbatof
and glanced at Mazeppa. ‘That is one pair,’ she said; ‘now seek for
thyself the other.’
I looked round at the roomful of courtiers and others, for there were
many present--taking the oath of allegiance some, and others spectators
and officials--but I could see none who seemed to stare, like Mazeppa,
at this fair young girl.
‘Look higher!’ the Princess said, smiling.
Then it occurred to me to glance at the two Tsars, seated upon their
twin throne, and to my wonder I perceived that the eyes of Ivan were
riveted upon Vera. His pale, puffed face was somewhat flushed and
animated--more so than I had yet seen it--and he seemed for once
interested and absorbed, instead of listless and weary and worried.
‘It will be desirable and most necessary that my brother should one day
choose for himself a wife,’ said Sophia, ‘and in a year, or at most two
years, his marriage may be arranged. It would be a matter for which to
praise God if he should show any desire to enter the wedded state, and a
mercy for which we have scarcely dared to hope.’
Being somewhat slow of wit, especially when in conversation with great
people, for at such moments a certain shyness often assails me, I did
not at once comprehend why her Highness favoured me with this
communication.
‘Your friend Mazeppa should be warned,’ she continued, ‘that he treads
on dangerous ground.’
Then I understood, and laughed together with her Highness.
‘My friend does not take seriously the affairs of the heart,’ I said.
‘In two days he will leave Moscow, and in three he will forget that he
has seen this lady.’
‘And she? That is also important. My poor brother should have, if
possible, a heart that is untainted. Mazeppa is a handsome man.’
‘As to that, Highness,’ I said, ‘I cannot judge, for I have neither
spoken to Mazeppa of the matter nor yet watched it for myself. But at
any rate I will warn my friend.’
‘Do so,’ said her Highness, ‘but not as from me.’
I did warn Mazeppa, telling him that I had observed the Tsar Ivan look
in such a manner at the girl that one might suppose he was attracted by
her. Mazeppa laughed much when I told him.
‘The youth is one of God’s afflicted,’ he said. ‘There is not life
enough in his veins to warm him into admiration for the charms of a
maiden. What, would the Regent have Vera marry that dolt? As soon let a
maiden mate with a figure of clay.’
‘See for yourself how he gazes at her and flushes, even now!’ I said.
Mazeppa looked and laughed scornfully.
‘Bah!’ he said. ‘He is gazing at the jewel that hangs at her neck; it
moves with her breathing, and he stares at it as a cat would. You are a
fool, Chelminsky, to speak of that imbecile and of love in the same
breath.’
This was certainly possible, though it appeared to me that the fact was
otherwise, and that this unfortunate prince had actually found a face
which it pleased him to gaze upon.
‘Nevertheless,’ I said, ‘without doubt they will one day cause this
youth to marry someone, for the succession’s sake!’
‘Then Heaven have pity upon the lady,’ he laughed, ‘for imagine what it
would be for a woman to be mated with a thing no more beautiful and
man-like than this, even though they should call him Tsar of Russia!
Moreover, my friend, look on this prince and on that--which is the
likelier to dominate when both are grown out of leading-strings? Peter
is ten times the better man already, ay, and better now than the other
will ever be!’
‘She is a beautiful girl, however,’ I said, ‘and it is no wonder that
even a half-man, like Ivan, should gaze upon her face with admiration!’
‘Oh, I grant that,’ said Mazeppa, flushing; ‘the best and highest of men
might so gaze upon her and thank his God for the eyes that were given
him to see so fair a sight withal!’
‘Ha!’ I said. ‘Mazeppa, that is more than thy usual praise for a woman:
is it possible that thou hast it in thy mind to run a race with the Tsar
for a pretty wench? That would endanger thy favour with her Highness!’
‘Bah!’ said Mazeppa. ‘I tell you that he gazes at the jewel at her
throat because it flashes in the sun: set a light dancing upon the wall,
and he will stare at that. As for the girl, it is not my habit to do
things in a hurry, and least of all will I marry in haste; but she is
certainly one of the fairest of women that I have yet seen! Think you
such as she would mate with an Ivan, even though he be half a Tsar? I
think she would die first!’
As to that I knew nothing, for I did not pretend to understand the heart
of woman. But I knew this, that Russian Tsars marry whom they will, be
they devils like Ivan the Terrible, or unsightly, unwholesome things
like this other Ivan; for either the maidens must, though they would
not, or else they consider that the man matters little so long as there
is a crown to be worn, and one may call herself Tsaritsa!
I became somewhat friendly with Vera Kurbatof, and before I left Moscow
I took occasion to ask her how she liked my friend Mazeppa.
‘He is handsome,’ she said, ‘and has a good manner, and he is cleverer
than all these together except Galitsin; but he is cunning, and I am
afraid of him; also he looks as though he might be treacherous. On the
whole, I do not like him! Yet, if I should ever need such help as the
wit or cunning of a man might furnish me withal, I should trust his wit
sooner than another’s, so long as I knew that he lost nothing by helping
me.’
I laughed much at the time over Vera’s saying. But afterwards, that is
when next Vera’s destiny crossed my own, I remembered it, for I had then
reason to believe that Mazeppa had somehow compacted with the girl to
stand her friend in certain contingencies. And that Mazeppa was one who
would never work without pay I knew well!