It seems that the Regent Sophia, whom, indeed, some have pronounced to
be a wonderful woman for her ability in the management of affairs both
great and little--though for my part I give all the credit to Galitsin,
who was for ever at her right hand to advise, restrain, and even to
speak for her when her Highness lacked words--it seems that Sophia had
so far impressed her will upon the Tsar Ivan that he was now willing to
be married.
How she performed this magician’s trick I am not able to guess; neither
can I say whether any of the ordinary spirit of a man had begun to stir
in that poor creature at sight of all the womanly beauty which had been
placed before him during those last few days.
It may be that somewhere within him there lurked the unmatured embryo of
a man’s nature, which had at this time quickened into a kind of
half-life, so that he at last consented to gaze with interest upon those
fair maidens, and to accept the idea of matrimony without anger and
loathing.
I do not doubt that if Vera had not, in her wisdom, turned from him with
disgust, but had feigned admiration for him, and even love, as some of
the others did, she could have awakened in him a kind of mild
love-ardour which would have been a nearer approach to a man’s passion
for a woman than any that her sisters awakened in him; yet it is certain
that he accepted Vera’s attitude towards him with resignation and turned
from her to seek his bride elsewhere without any great show of
indignation or of regret.
The morning after Olga’s quarrel with Praskovia Soltikof was practically
the deciding hour in the matter of Ivan’s choice of a bride, and
doubtless that quarrel had something to do with the result, though for
my part I am persuaded that--Vera not being reckoned as available--he
would in any case have chosen as he did.
There entered the _terem_ that morning a little procession of three--the
Regent, the Tsar Ivan, and Galitsin.
Maria Apraxin was passed without a glance by the Tsar and by Sophia, but
Galitsin stopped and spoke with her. It was his duty to receive her
report, and this day I doubt not she had an interesting one to give.
Meanwhile the Tsar was passing Olga Panief, but Sophia drew him back.
‘Glance at this one, _Golúbchick_,’ she said; ‘she is one you have never
well examined, yet she is as beautiful as any, and has the very
appearance of a Tsaritsa.’
Ivan glanced at her. ‘She frightens me,’ he said; ‘she has a cruel
eye--I like her not. I would rather she were not here.’
‘Here is the minx, Vera Kurbatof,’ said the Regent, smiling nevertheless
kindly upon Vera, and shaking her finger at her; ‘she who shrinks from
us, Ivan. Dost know why she has done this? Because she knows that a
bride is the more valued the more difficult has been her wooing and her
winning. Doubt not she pines for thee, _Golúbchick_; she longs to be
Tsaritsa and to sit beside thee in the highest seat.’
Vera said not a word, but stood with her eyes upon the floor at her
feet.
‘Is it so, Vera?’ said the Tsar. ‘Speak truth and fear not. I would
rather choose thee than all the rest, but to me it seems that thou art
not willing, thou art afraid of me. When I touched thee thy head swam
and thy knees failed; was it not so?’
‘It is true, Tsar,’ said Vera; ‘I fear thee.’
‘And why?’
‘God knows! I shall always fear thee, and I can never love thee; believe
that I am speaking truth.’
‘I do believe----’ began the Tsar; but Sophia interrupted him.
‘See, Vera,’ she said, ‘it is possible that in knowing the Tsar better
and seeing him oftener, this feeling of thine may change for a gentler
one. He is kind of heart, believe me, and will make a more indulgent
husband than many a man to whom God has given better health and a
handsomer face. Ivan loves you the best of all--can you not see it?
Come, smile upon him, child, and give him thy hand, and by all the
saints of Heaven thou shalt be Tsaritsa in a month, and as fair and as
happy a one as ever sat beside a Tsar upon the highest seat.’
‘Madam, do not entreat me,’ said poor Vera. ‘It is the truth that I am
afraid of the Tsar; I could not sit beside him. If I were not afraid to
death of him I should not have hid myself from him. Do not press
me--Tsar, on my knee, I beseech thee. I should be a sorry Tsaritsa that
feared the touch and the very sight of thee. Let me go my way; there are
those here who long for thee to exalt them to thy side.’
‘Bah!’ said the Regent, tugging at his arm; ‘leave her then,
_Golúbchick_, if she insists upon being a fool. If she truly fears thee
she will hate thee if we marry thee to her; let her go, fool and minx
that she is.’
The Tsar obeyed. He followed his sister, though he turned and gazed at
Vera once more as he went.
Then they came to where Praskovia Soltikof stood and waited for them,
all blushes, and her splendid eyes ablaze as they sent a speaking glance
at the Tsar before screening themselves beneath her marvellous black
lashes, long and arched, and lying now upon her cheeks like two lovely
fringes of delicate feathered lacework.
Ivan stopped suddenly as his eyes fell upon this picture. He half turned
towards Vera as though he would compare the two; but the figure of
Praskovia seemed to have captured his gaze, and his eyes remained fixed
upon her.
“Holy Mother! there stands a Tsaritsa indeed!’ exclaimed Galitsin. ‘See,
Sophia, such loveliness is surely peerless!’
‘Yes, but----’ began the Regent, and drew Galitsin aside so that Maria
Apraxin (from whom Mazeppa received all that has been told of this
scene) could not hear what they said. If one may guess, it is probable
that Sophia would much have preferred Vera for Tsaritsa, partly because
the Tsar seemed more attracted by her than by the rest, but chiefly
because she fancied that Vera Tsaritsa would be more easily managed than
Praskovia Tsaritsa; for the Regent Sophia did not intend to see the
power go from her own hands, and the wife of Ivan should be one who
would consent to take the second place in the realm.
But Galitsin had ever the ruling word of these two, and doubtless he
persuaded the Regent that matters must go forward now as Ivan would,
having gone thus far, and that since Vera was obstinately determined
against marriage with him, and he seemed to have accepted her refusal
with resignation, the better way now was to encourage him in his obvious
admiration for Praskovia. Therefore the two soon returned to the spot
where Ivan still stood and gazed, speechless, at Praskovia Soltikof,
from whose figure he had not once withdrawn his eyes during these
moments of waiting.
‘See, her hand is bound up as though it were hurt,’ said the Tsar as
they joined him. ‘What ails her, think you, sister?’
‘Ask her, _Golúbchick_, for yourself. She is not an image of wax, she is
warm flesh and blood, made for love and for caresses; ask her, my
dove!’
‘What ails thee?’ stammered Ivan, blushing to the roots of his hair.
‘It is nothing, Tsar,’ said Praskovia, glancing at Olga and attempting
to hide her hand.
Here Maria Apraxin stepped forward.
‘There is a dog in the _terem_ that bites, Highness,’ she laughed; ‘poor
Praskovia has been bitten.’
‘A dog?’ exclaimed Ivan, recoiling--‘a dog that bites--he may be mad,
sister, let us depart!’
‘A dog on two legs was this, Tsar,’ said Maria; ‘one who is called Olga
Panief.’
‘What mean you, Maria?’ asked Sophia sternly. ‘Do you say her hand is
bitten, and by this Cossack minx?’
‘So it was, Highness. There was a quarrel, which Olga began and ended,
began with insult and ended with biting.’
‘Fie, Panief!’ cried the Regent. ‘Go forth, minx, we will have no biters
here. Was thy mother a wolf, that thou must tear thy companions with
tooth and claw? Shame, wench--go forth, I say!’
‘Drive her away quickly, Galitsin, I am afraid of her,’ said Ivan
whimpering. ‘Who can tell? she may turn and bite us all; let her go
quickly and return no more!’
Olga left the _terem_ in tears, but she turned at the door and shook
her fist at Praskovia and at Maria, neither of whom took any further
notice of her.
Then the Regent raised Praskovia’s wounded hand and looked at it.
‘See the poor wounded hand!’ she said. ‘See, Ivan, where the cruel teeth
went in! How shall we cure it for her?’
‘Kiss it with thy lips, Ivan Alexeyevitch!’ cried Galitsin with a laugh.
‘I warrant that will heal the wound better than all the herbs and
medicines the leech can give her!’
‘Yes, kiss it, _Golúbchik_!’ said Sophia.
And the Tsar obediently, though shyly withal, took the wounded hand and
kissed it.
‘Oh, Tsar, I am not worthy!’ exclaimed Praskovia, sinking on her knees
and catching at the edge of his kaftan to raise it to her lips.
But when the Regent bade Ivan kiss Praskovia’s forehead and tell her she
was the most beautiful of all his maidens, the Tsar’s eyes were fixed
upon Vera--and this is not to be wondered at, for indeed at this moment
she looked so radiantly lovely--in the light, I suppose, of happiness
secured--that those who observed her declared they never saw so much
beauty in any face as in hers at this moment.