Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (431 page)

[Margaret smiles.]

Donna Dolores: If you only knew how afraid I am. . . . [Don Rafael sighs.] Come Sundays, to the convent. I am there sometimes — with my husband.

Don Rafael [aside]: Your humble servant has passed his sixteenth birthday. [Aloud.] Senora! You don’t know me yet. This is what I intend to do: I intend to get up on this stone — [He does everything as he says — get hold of this fence . . .

Donna Dolores [terrified and almost screaming]: For Heaven’s sake, what are you doing?

Don Rafael [very coldly]: If you scream, Senora, people will gather. They will get hold of me and, perhaps, kill me. And you will be the cause of my death! [He climbs up on the fence.]

Donna Dolores [with increased terror]: Why have you climbed up on the fence?

Don Rafael: Why? I am going to jump into your garden. I am going to hunt for your pretty little footprints on the sand paths. [To himself.] Aha, I am getting pretty eloquent! [Aloud.] I’ll pluck a flower as a souvenir. How

ever, good - bye, — that is, au revoir. It is awfully hard to sit on the top of a fence. [Aside.] There is no one in the garden. I’ll get down. [Jumps off the fence.]

Donna Dolores: He is crazy! He is running into the garden, knocking at the door! Oh, I am lost, I am lost! I’ll run and shut myself up in my room. Maybe no one will see me. No, I positively don’t want any unusual occurrences. [Goes away.]

[Margaret disappears too. Presently, Don Balthazar enters.]

Don Balthazar: It is quite pleasant to walk around a little bit in the evening. . . . Ah, here I am at home. It’s time, it’s time to be home. I have walked a little too long. I think it must be ten o’clock now. However, I will sleep all the better for it. Upstairs, my dear, incomparable, priceless wife is waiting for me. It is quite pleasant. So help me God, it is delightful. I never have liked to enjoy myself in any old way. . . . Why, thank God, I have lots of time, and a long lease on life. Why should I hurry then? I have never liked to hurry, even as a child. I remember, when a good juicy, ripe pear was given to me, I did not eat it right away, as the other foolish boys and madcaps used to do. I would sit down, stealthily take the pear out of my pocket, examine it on all sides, kiss it, pat it, put it to my lips and take it away again. I would admire it from near and far; then I would close my eyes and bite into it. ... I really ought to have been born a cat. I do the same tricks even now. For instance, I could go in to my wife at once, — to my amiable, dear young wife. But why? I’d rather wait a little while. I know that she is safe, and unhurt. Margaret looks after her, and Pepe doesn’t take his eyes off her, either. My dear little wife really ought to be watched closely. And Sangre!

He is a real friend, a priceless treasure. People say that there is no friendship in this world. That’s all nonsense; idle talk. For instance, I, — I have a rather cowardly disposition, but what can I do? I confess . . . and though I get angry at those impudent fellows, at those weathercocks, who look insolently at every woman, even when they’re in church, still, I strengthen my heart and I keep quiet about it. I suffer it in silence. But my Pablo ... oh, my Pablo! — Just let any one dare to look once too many times at my Dolores! And he does all that just on account of his friendship for me. At first, I thought — [Laughs.] — the saying true: that old husbands are very jealous. I even thought that Sangre himself . . . [Laughs still louder.] — but now, I am very calm. He doesn’t say even a word to her; he doesn’t even look at her. He is always scowling and she is afraid of him. Oh, Lord, how afraid she is of him! I keep telling him: “Pablo, listen. Be a little kinder, Pablo.” And he retorts: “You be kind. That’s your business. You are old; you can please her with kindness. I am surly, and the better for it. I am surly, and you are jolly. I am bitters; you are honey.” Sometimes, he tells me some bitter truths, — that dear Pablo of mine. He does it because he is sincerely attached to me. He is a rare man. . . . However, it is time for me to go in. [He turns around, sees Margaret before him.] How are you, how are you, Margaret? Well, is the Madam in good health? Is she? I have come back. Take my cane.

Margaret: Senor Don Balthazar d’Esturiz!

Don Balthazar: Well?

Margaret: My master! Senor!

Don Balthazar: Have you lost your mind, woman? What’s the matter with you? What do you want?

Margaret: Don Balthazar! A young man got into your house.

Don Balthazar; What . . . Wait . . . Hold . . . Trrrrrr ... A young man . . . You are lying, you witch!

Margaret: A young, handsome stranger, in a blue mantle, with a white feather.

Don Balthazar [hardly able to catch his breath]: A white man ... in a mantle . . . with a strange feather! [Grabs her hand.] Where? How? No, stop! Wait! Yell! Scream! . . . [She starts to scream, but he puts his hand on her mouth.] No, don’t yell. Bun. Where? Sangre! Where is Sangre? How is that, — in my house? Oh, help me, Mar - , garet, help me! I think I am going to die.

[Sangre enters.]

Don Pablo [beholding the scene]: What does this mean? Balthazar!

Don Balthazar [jumping up and embracing him]: Is that you! Is that you! Oh, my saviour! Sangre, save me. Help me. Quick! Catch him, catch him. Just imagine . • • [To Margaret.] How did he get in here, eh? Why didn’t you scream, huh? I think you were in a plot with him, yourself, you old witch!

Margaret [whispering]: Stop hollering! He might hear you. [To Sangre.] This is what happened. As soon as Don Balthazar had gone away, I started to get ready to go to see my aunt. I was told that she was on her dying bed. I don’t know what delayed me, but suddenly, I heard someone talking in the street. Then the same person began to sing rather loud. ... I knew that Donna Dolores was sitting alone on the balcony. ... I went up to the window and I saw a young man in front of the house. [Looking laughingly at Don Balthazar.] He was quite a handsome young man.

He is a real friend, a priceless treasure. People say that there is no friendship in this world. That’s all nonsense; idle talk. For instance, I, — I have a rather cowardly disposition, but what can I do? I confess . . . and though I get angry at those impudent fellows, at those weathercocks, who look insolently at every woman, even when they’re in church, still, I strengthen my heart and I keep quiet about it. I suffer it in silence. But my Pablo ... oh, my Pablo! — Just let any one dare to look once too many times at my Dolores! And he does all that just on account of his friendship for me. At first, I thought — [Laughs.] — the saying true: that old husbands are very jealous. I even thought that Sangre himself . . . [Laughs still louder.] — but now, I am very calm. He doesn’t say even a word to her; he doesn’t even look at her. He is always scowling and she is afraid of him. Oh, Lord, how afraid she is of him! I keep telling him: “Pablo, listen. Be a little kinder, Pablo.” And he retorts: “You be kind. That’s your business. You are old; you can please her with kindness. I am surly, and the better for it. I am surly, and you are jolly. I am bitters; you are honey.” Sometimes, he tells me some bitter truths, — that dear Pablo of mine. He does it because he is sincerely attached to me. He is a rare man. . . . However, it is time for me to go in. [He turns around, sees Margaret before him.] How are you, how are you, Margaret? Well, is the Madam in good health? Is she? I have come back. Take my cane.

Margaret: Senor Don Balthazar d’Esturiz!

Don Balthazar: Well?

Margaret: My master! Senor!

Don Balthazar: Have you lost your mind, woman? What’s the matter with you? What do you want?

Margaret: Don Balthazar! A young man got into your house.

Don Balthazar: What . . . Wait . . . Hold . . . Trrrrrr ... A young man . . . You are lying, you witch!

Margaret: A young, handsome stranger, in a blue mantle, with a white feather.

Don Balthazar [hardly able to catch his breath]: A white man ... in a mantle . . . with a strange feather! [Grabs her hand.] Where? How? No, stop! Wait! Yell! Scream! . . . [iSTie starts to scream, but he puts his hand on her mouth.] No, don’t yell. Bun. Where? Sangr6! Where is Sangre? How is that, — in my house? Oh, help me, Margaret, help me! I think I am going to die.

[Sangre enters.]

Don Pablo [beholding the scene]: What does this mean? Balthazar!

Don Balthazar [jumping up and embracing him]: Is that you! Is that you! Oh, my saviour! Sangr6, save me. Help me. Quick! Catch him, catch him. Just imagine . . . [To Margaret.] How did he get in here, eh? Why didn’t you scream, huh? I think you were in a plot with him, yourself, you old witch!

Margaret [whispering]: Stop hollering! He might hear you. [To Sangre.] This is what happened. As soon as Don Balthazar had gone away, I started to get ready to go to see my aunt. I was told that she was on her dying bed. I don’t know what delayed me, but suddenly, I heard someone talking in the street. Then the same person began to sing rather loud. ... I knew that Donna Dolores was sitting alone on the balcony. ... I went up to the window and I saw a young man in front of the house. [Looking laughingly at Don Balthazar.] He was quite a handsome young man.

He paced, stopped, and conversed with Donna Dolores quite amiably. Then, I think that it was with her consent, he jumped over the fence into the garden. Donna Dolores went into her room. I shut the door of the Madam’s room at once, closed the garden gate, and didn’t say a word to Pepe. Now, you can do as you like, and deal with him as you think best.

Don Pablo [flashing up and stammering]: And so she . . . [Catches Balthazar’s hand.] My dear, dear friend! C - calm yourself. We’ll think the thing up presently. Margaret, I should like to promote you to colonel, for you certainly were a brave woman; you didn’t lose your head. I love you for that. You shut both of them up! Bravo! Let me embrace you for that. Listen, friends! Let’s talk the matter over modestly, quietly, without any superfluous agitation, as though we were only talking about some trifling household affair.

Don Balthazar: But for Heaven’s sake
          

Don Pablo: Balthazar! In the first place, quiet yourself; secondly, hide your face. You are so pale, and so nervous, that they will guess at once what we are talking about.

Don Balthazar: They
  

Don Pablo: Well, yes. He and she — the Lord knows — maybe they can see us somehow. Tell me, Margaret, are you sure you locked the door? [Margaret nods.] And she wasn’t at all uneasy?

Margaret: It isn’t the first time that I have locked her in.

Don Pablo: And he is locked in the garden?

Margaret: Yes.

Don Pablo: Tell me, please, my dear Margaret, has Donna Dolores’ room got windows that overlook the yard or the garden? As far as I remember

Mabgaeet: Overlooking the garden, but they are quite high up.

Don Pablo: Excellent! That’s capital! They can’t see us.

Don Balthazar: You - are a little pale, too, Pablo.

Don Pablo: Is that so. . . . Margaret! Tell Pepe to unchain the dogs immediately. And tell him to get a club and put himself against the gate. Do you hear me? Then, give him some brandy, — strong, good old brandy, and plenty of it. Go. [Margaret starts to go.] Tell me, has Donna Dolores spoken to him? [Margaret nods.] All right. Go. [Margaret goes away.] It makes a fellow feel good to let his blood circulate occasionally, eh? What do you think, my friend? Let’s sit down on this bench here, my dear Balthazar, and talk over a plan of campaign. [They sit down.] How dark it has grown! How jolly it is to sit in the dark and to think, with delight, about revenge!