“So you’re also talking about a duel!” the prince suddenly burst out laughing, to the great astonishment of Keller. He laughed his head off. Keller, who had indeed been on pins and needles, waiting until he had the satisfaction of offering himself as a second, was almost offended, seeing how merrily the prince laughed.
“Nevertheless, Prince, you seized him by the arms. For a noble person, it’s hard to suffer that in public.”
“And he shoved me in the chest!” the prince exclaimed, laughing. “We have nothing to fight about! I’ll apologize to him and that’s that. But if it’s a fight, it’s a fight. Let him shoot; I even want it. Ha, ha! I know how to load a pistol now! Do you know how to load a pistol, Keller? First you have to buy powder, gunpowder, not damp and not the coarse kind used for cannons; and then you start by putting in some powder, you get felt from a door somewhere, and only then drop in the bullet, not the bullet before the powder, because it won’t fire. Do you hear, Keller: because it won’t fire. Ha, ha! Isn’t that a splendid reason, friend Keller? Ah, Keller, you know, I’m going to embrace you and kiss you now. Ha, ha, ha! How was it that you so suddenly turned up in front of him today? Call on me sometime soon and we’ll have champagne. We’ll all get drunk! Do you know that I have twelve bottles of champagne in Lebedev’s cellar? Lebedev offered it to me as a ‘bargain’ two days ago, the day after I moved to his place, so I bought it all! I’ll get the whole company together! And you, are you going to sleep this night?”
“Like every other, Prince.”
“Well, sweet dreams then! Ha, ha!”
The prince crossed the road and disappeared into the park, leaving the somewhat puzzled Keller pondering. He had never seen the prince in such a strange mood, and could not have imagined it till then.
“A fever, maybe, because he’s a nervous man, and all this has affected him, but he certainly won’t turn coward. His kind doesn’t turn coward, by God!” Keller thought to himself. “Hm, champagne! Interesting news, by the way. Twelve bottles, sir, a tidy dozen; that’s a decent stock. I’ll bet Lebedev took it in pledge from somebody. Hm … he’s a sweet enough fellow, though, this prince; I really like that sort; there’s no time to waste, though, and … if there’s champagne, then this is the moment …”
That the prince was as if in a fever was certainly correct.
For a long time he wandered through the dark park and finally “found himself” pacing along a certain alley. His consciousness retained the memory that he had already walked along that alley, from the bench to a certain old tree, tall and conspicuous, about a hundred steps, some thirty or forty times up and down. He would have been quite unable to remember what he had thought about during that whole hour, at least, in the park, even if he had wanted to. He caught himself, however, in a certain thought, which made him suddenly rock with laughter; though there was nothing to laugh at, he still wanted to laugh. He imagined that the supposition of a duel might not have been born in Keller’s head alone, and that, therefore, the story about loading a pistol might not have been accidental … “Hah!” he stopped suddenly, as another idea dawned on him, “she came down to the terrace tonight when I was sitting in the corner, and was terribly surprised to find me there, and—laughed so … talked about tea; but at that time she already had this note in her hand, which means she must have known I was sitting on the terrace, so why was she surprised? Ha, ha, ha!”
He snatched the note from his pocket and kissed it, but at once stopped and pondered.
“How strange! How strange!” he said after a moment, even with a sort of sadness: he always felt sad at moments of great joy, he did not know why himself. He looked around intently and was surprised that he had come there. He was very tired, went over to the bench and sat down. It was extremely quiet all around. The music in the vauxhall was over. There was probably no one in the park now; it was certainly at least half-past eleven. The night was quiet, warm, bright—a Petersburg night at the beginning of the month of June—but in the thick, shady park, in the alley where he was, it was almost completely dark.
If anyone had told him at that moment that he had fallen in love, that he was passionately in love, he would have rejected the idea with astonishment and perhaps even with indignation. And if anyone had added that Aglaya’s note was a love letter, setting up a lovers’ tryst, he would have burned with shame for that man and might have challenged him to a duel. All this was perfectly sincere, and he never once doubted it or allowed for the slightest “second” thought about the possibility of this girl loving him or even the possibility of him loving this girl. The possibility of loving him, “a man like him,” he would have considered a monstrous thing. He vaguely thought that it was simply a prank on her part, if there indeed was anything to it; but he was somehow all too indifferent to the prank itself and found it all too much in the order of things; he himself was concerned and preoccupied with something completely different. He fully believed the words that had escaped the agitated general earlier, that she was laughing at everyone and especially at him, the prince. He had not felt insulted by it in the least; in his opinion, it had to be so. The main thing for him was that tomorrow he would see her again, early in the morning, would sit beside her on the green bench, listen to how a pistol is loaded, and look at her. He needed nothing more. The question of what it was that she intended to tell him, and what the important matter was that concerned him directly, also flashed once or twice in his head. Besides, he had never doubted even for a minute the actual existence of this “important matter” for which he had been summoned, but he almost did not think of this important matter now, to the point that he even did not feel the slightest urge to think about it.
The crunch of quiet steps on the sand of the alley made him raise his head. A man, whose face it was difficult to make out in the darkness, came up to the bench and sat down beside him. The prince quickly moved close to him, almost touching him, and made out the pale face of Rogozhin.
“I just knew you’d be wandering about here somewhere, I didn’t have to look long,” Rogozhin muttered through his teeth.
It was the first time they had come together since their meeting in the corridor of the inn. Struck by Rogozhin’s sudden appearance, the prince was unable to collect his thoughts for some time, and a painful sensation rose again in his heart. Rogozhin evidently understood the impression he had made; but though at first he kept getting confused, spoke as if with the air of a sort of studied casualness, it soon seemed to the prince that there was nothing studied in him and not even any particular embarrassment; if there was any awkwardness in his gestures and conversation, it was only on the outside; in his soul this man could not change.
“How … did you find me here?” asked the prince, in order to say something.
“I heard from Keller (I went by your place) that ‘he went to the park.’ Well, I thought, so there it is.”
“There what is?” the prince anxiously picked up the escaped remark.
Rogozhin grinned, but gave no explanation.
“I got your letter, Lev Nikolaich; you don’t need all that … what do you care!… And now I’m coming to you from her: she told me to be sure and invite you; she needs very much to tell you something. She asks you to come tonight.”
“I’ll come tomorrow. Right now I’m going home; will you … come with me?”
“Why? I’ve told you everything. Good-bye.”
“You won’t come?” the prince asked softly.
“You’re a queer one, Lev Nikolaich, you really amaze me.”
Rogozhin grinned sarcastically.
“Why? What makes you so spiteful towards me now?” the prince picked up sadly and ardently. “You know now that everything you were thinking was not true. I did think, however, that your spite towards me had still not gone away, and do you know why? Because you raised your hand against me, that’s why your spite won’t go away. I tell you that I remember only the Parfyon Rogozhin with whom I exchanged crosses that day as a brother; I wrote that
to you in my letter yesterday, so that you’d forget to think about all that delirium and not start talking with me about it. Why are you backing away from me? Why are you hiding your hand from me? I tell you, I consider all that happened then as nothing but delirium: all that you went through that day I now know as well as I know my own self. What you were imagining did not and could not exist. Why, then, should our spite exist?”
“What spite could you have!” Rogozhin laughed again in response to the prince’s ardent, unexpected speech. He was indeed standing back from him, two steps to the side, and hiding his hands.
“It’s not a right thing for me to come to you at all now, Lev Nikolaich,” he added in conclusion, slowly and sententiously.
“Do you really hate me so much?”
“I don’t like you, Lev Nikolaich, so why should I come to you? Eh, Prince, you’re just like some child, you want a toy, you’ve got to have it right now, but you don’t understand what it’s about. Everything you’re saying now is just like what you wrote in your letter, and do you think I don’t believe you? I believe every word of yours, and I know you’ve never deceived me and never will in the future; but I still don’t like you. You write that you’ve forgotten everything and only remember your brother Rogozhin that you exchanged crosses with, and not the Rogozhin who raised a knife against you that time. But how should you know my feelings?” (Rogozhin grinned again.) “Maybe I never once repented of it afterwards, and you’ve gone and sent me your brotherly forgiveness. Maybe that evening I was already thinking about something completely different, and …”
“Forgot all about it!” the prince picked up. “What else! And I’ll bet you went straight to the train that time, and here in Pavlovsk to the music, and watched and searched for her in the crowd just as you did today. Some surprise! But if you hadn’t been in such a state then that you could only think of one particular thing, maybe you wouldn’t have raised a knife at me. I had a presentiment that morning, as I looked at you; do you know how you were then? When we were exchanging crosses, this thought began to stir in me. Why did you take me to see the old woman then? Did you want to restrain your hand that way? But it can’t be that you thought of it, you just sensed it, as I did … We sensed it word for word then. If you hadn’t raised your hand against me (which God warded off), how would I come out before you now? Since I suspected you of it anyway, our sin is the same, word for word! (And don’t make a wry face! Well, and what are you laughing for?) ‘I’ve never repented!’ But even if you wanted to, maybe you wouldn’t be able to repent, because on top of it all you don’t like me. And if I were as innocent as an angel before you, you still wouldn’t be able to stand me, as long as you think it’s not you but me that she loves. That’s jealousy for you. Only I was thinking about it this week, Parfyon, and I’ll tell you: do you know that she may now love you most of all, and so much, even, that the more she torments you, the more she loves you? She won’t tell you that, but you must be able to see it. Why in the end is she going to marry you all the same? Someday she’ll tell you herself. There are women who even want to be loved in that way, and that’s precisely her character! And your character and your love had to strike her! Do you know that a woman is capable of torturing a man with her cruelties and mockeries, and will not feel remorse even once, because she thinks to herself each time she looks at you: ‘Now I’ll torture him to death, but later I’ll make up for it with my love …’ ”
Rogozhin, having listened to the prince, burst out laughing.
“And have you happened upon such a woman yourself, Prince? I’ve heard a little something about you, if it’s true!”
“What, what could you have heard?” the prince suddenly shook and stopped in extreme embarrassment.
Rogozhin went on laughing. He had listened to the prince not without curiosity and perhaps not without pleasure; the prince’s joyful and ardent enthusiasm greatly struck and encouraged him.
“I’ve not only heard it, but I see now that it’s true,” he added. “Well, when did you ever talk the way you do now? That kind of talk doesn’t seem to come from you at all. If I hadn’t heard as much about you, I wouldn’t have come here; and to the park, at midnight, besides.”
“I don’t understand you at all, Parfyon Semyonych.”
“She explained to me about you long ago, and now today I saw it myself, the way you were sitting at the music with the other one. She swore to me by God, yesterday and today, that you’re in love like a tomcat with Aglaya Epanchin. It makes no difference to me, Prince, and it’s none of my business: even if you don’t love her anymore, she still loves you. You know, she absolutely wants you to marry that girl, she gave me her word on it, heh, heh! She says to me: ‘Without that I won’t marry you, they go to church, and we go to church.’ What it’s all about, I can’t understand and never could: either she loves you no end, or … but if she loves you, why does she want you to marry another woman? She says: ‘I want to see him happy’—so that means she loves you.”
“I told you and wrote to you that she’s … not in her right mind,” said the prince, having listened to Rogozhin with suffering.
“Lord knows! You may be mistaken about that … anyhow, today she set the date for me, when I brought her home from the music: in three weeks, and maybe sooner, she says, we’ll certainly get married; she swore to me, took down an icon, kissed it. So, Prince, now it’s up to you, heh, heh!”
“That’s all raving! What you’re saying about me will never, never happen! I’ll come to you tomorrow …”
“What kind of madwoman is she?” observed Rogozhin. “How is it she’s in her right mind for everybody else, and for you alone she’s crazy? How is it she writes letters there? If she’s a madwoman, it would have been noticed there from her letters.”
“What letters?” the prince asked in alarm.
“She writes there, to that one, and she reads them. Don’t you know? Well, then you will; she’s sure to show you herself.”
“That’s impossible to believe!” cried the prince.
“Eh, Lev Nikolaich, it must be you haven’t gone very far down that path yet, as far as I can see, you’re just at the beginning. Wait a while: you’ll hire your own police, you’ll keep watch yourself day and night, and know every step they make there, if only …”
“Drop it and never speak of it again!” cried the prince. “Listen, Parfyon, I was walking here just now before you came and suddenly began to laugh, I didn’t know what about, but the reason was that I remembered that tomorrow, as if on purpose, is my birthday. It’s nearly midnight now. Let’s go and meet the day! I have some wine, we’ll drink wine, you must wish me something I myself don’t know how to wish for now, and it’s precisely you who must wish it, and I’ll wish you your fullest happiness. Or else give me back my cross! You didn’t send it back to me the next day! You’re wearing it? Wearing it even now?”
“I am,” said Rogozhin.
“Come on, then. I don’t want to meet my new life without you, because my new life has begun! Don’t you know, Parfyon, that my new life begins today?”
“Now I myself see and know that it’s begun; and I’ll report it to her. You’re not yourself at all, Lev Nikolaich!”
IV
AS HE APPROACHED his dacha with Rogozhin, the prince noticed with extreme astonishment that a noisy and numerous society had gathered on his brightly lit terrace. The merry company was laughing, shouting; it seemed they were even arguing loudly; one would have suspected at first glance that they were having quite a joyful time of it. And indeed, going up onto the terrace, he saw that they were all drinking, and drinking champagne, and it seemed they had been at it for quite a while, so that many of the revelers had managed to become quite pleasantly animated. The guests were all acquaintances of the prince, but it was strange that they had all gathered at once, as if they had been invited, though the prince had not invited anyone, and he himself had only just chanced to remember about his birthday.
“You must have t
old somebody you’d stand them to champagne, so they came running,” Rogozhin muttered, following the prince up onto the terrace. “That point we know; just whistle to them …” he added almost with spite, remembering, of course, his recent past.
They all met the prince with shouts and good wishes, and surrounded him. Some were very noisy, others much quieter, but they all hastened to congratulate him, having heard about his birthday, and each one waited his turn. The prince found the presence of some persons curious, Burdovsky’s, for instance; but the most astonishing thing was that amidst this company Evgeny Pavlovich suddenly turned up. The prince could hardly believe his eyes and was almost frightened when he saw him.
Meanwhile Lebedev, flushed and nearly ecstatic, ran up to him with explanations; he was rather well loaded. From his babble it turned out that they had all gathered quite naturally and even accidentally. First of all, towards evening, Ippolit had come and, feeling much better, had wanted to wait for the prince on the terrace. He had settled himself on the sofa; then Lebedev had come down to see him, and then his whole family, that is, his daughters and General Ivolgin. Burdovsky had come with Ippolit as his escort. Ganya and Ptitsyn, it seemed, had dropped in not long ago, while passing by (their appearance coincided with the incident in the vauxhall); then Keller had turned up, told them about the birthday, and asked for champagne. Evgeny Pavlovich had come only about half an hour ago. Kolya had also insisted with all his might on champagne and that a celebration be arranged. Lebedev readily served the wine.
“But my own, my own!” he babbled to the prince. “At my own expense, to glorify and celebrate, and there’ll be food, a little snack, my daughter will see to that; but if you only knew, Prince, what a theme we’ve got going. Remember in Hamlet: ‘To be or not to be’? A modern theme, sir, modern! Questions and answers … And Mr. Terentyev is in the highest degree … unwilling to sleep! He had just a sip of champagne, a sip, nothing harmful … Come closer, Prince, and decide! Everybody’s been waiting for you, everybody’s only been waiting for your happy wit …”
The Idiot Page 47
