Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (433 page)

BOOK: Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)
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Donna Dolores: Well, Margaret, then go and rest yourself.

 

Margaret: How can I leave you all to yourself?

 

Donna Dolores: That’s nothing, that’s nothing. I’ll go to bed soon, myself. Go! Go, poor woman. I am really sorry for you.

 

Margaret: Well, good - bye, my angel.

 

Donna Dolores: Good - bye. [She embraces her, goes away with her, and presently reappears.] Senor! Senor! [Don Rafael comes out carefully.] Listen: can I positively depend upon you? Are you really an honest man?

 

Don Rafael: Senora! I swear
  

 

Donna Dolores: Don’t swear. Oh, if I could only look into your eyes! I would know then, exactly, the kind of a man you are.

 

Don Rafael [to himself]: You would, eh?

 

Donna Dolores: But tell me, tell me that you are incapable of offending a woman.

 

Don Rafael: Never!

 

Donna Dolores: Senor! Look! See what I have in my hand
  

 

Don Rafael [looking]: A key!

 

Donna Dolores: A key, to the door that leads to the street.

 

Don Rafael: Is that possible? How did you get that priceless key?

 

Donna Dolores: How did I get it? I took it from Margaret’s waist - band.

 

Don Rafael: Bra . . . Bravo! [To himself.] Oh, women, women! That, I didn’t expect, I confess.

 

Donna Dolores: Still, you can’t get to the street.

 

Don Rafael: Why, Senora?

 

Donna Dolores: Because, you must first get into the house.

 

Don Rafael [pleadingly]: Senora!

 

Donna Dolores: Listen: do me a favor, and go out by the same way you came.

 

Don Rafael: Please, tell me, how long since your dogs have been fed? They are barking furiously. Hungry dogs and a drunken gardener — I beg to be excused.

 

Donna Dolores: Oh, good Heavens! What shall I do then?

 

Don Rafael: What do you mean, by what shall you do? All women are alike. They like to bother themselves about nothing and invite all sorts of unheard of unpleasantnesses and hardships for themselves. While your husband is still out, and Margaret is asleep, let me into the house.

 

Donna Dolores [hesitatingly]: How shall I let you in?

 

Don Rafael: Oh, Senora! I see that you want to torment me.

 

Donna Dolores: You won’t remain in my room, in my house?

 

Don Rafael: I will get out at once.

 

Donna Dolores: And you won’t say a word to me?

 

Don Rafael: Not a syllable. I won’t even thank you.

 

Donna Dolores: Well, so be it. I am resolved.

 

Don Eafael [to himself]: At last!

 

Donna Dolores [tying a shawl to the window - sill]: Oh, God! What doesn’t necessity force one to do!

 

Don Eafael [climbing]: You . . . are right . . . what doesn’t . . . necess . . . ity . . .

 

Scene Three: Donna Dolores’ room. Discovered: Donna Dolores sitting in one corner; Don Rafael in another.

 

Donna Dolores: And you don’t want to go away?

 

Don Rafael fsighing]: Oh, Lord!

 

Donna Dolores: You are a dishonorable man.

 

Don Rafael: Quiet! They can hear us.

 

Donna Dolores: Do you want to ruin me? I am telling you that my husband will be in immediately . . . presently . . . He will kill me. Have pity on me. Moreover, Margaret may discover the loss of the key. Here you have it. Take it and go out quickly, at once. [Throws the key at his feet.]

 

Don Rafael [unwillingly getting up and picking up the key]: There is nothing to be done. I obey. But let me first come a little nearer to you. You have put out the candle on account of precaution. Very well. I can’t see you. Perhaps I am talking to you for the last time, — and you tell me to get out without even having looked at you! Don’t forget that, up to now, I have talked to you at a respectful distance.

 

Donna Dolores: Don’t come any nearer. I am afraid of you. I don’t trust you.

 

Don Rafael: Ah, you don’t trust me! You will trust me only then, I suppose, when I have left the house, — that is, when I will be unable to get anywhere near you. Listen: I am going away; I am saying good - bye to you . . .

 

Donna Dolores: But you are getting nearer to me!

 

Don Rafael: For Heaven’s sake, don’t be afraid and don’t scream! [Seeing that she is getting ready to run.] I am getting down on my knees. I am on my knees. [He gets down on his knees.] You see how respectful and timid I am?

 

Donna Dolores: But what do you want of me?

 

Don Rafael: Permit me to kiss your hand, in farewell.

 

Donna Dolores [hesitatingly]: But you won’t go away!

 

Don Rafael: Try it.

 

Donna Dolores [giving him her hand; shuddering as she sees him approaching her]: Good Heavens! I hear the footsteps of my husband. He has come. You can’t go away now. I am lost. Hide yourself; jump out of the window! Quick!

 

Don Rafael [running up to the window]: I’ll break my neck here.

 

Donna Dolores: You promised! Well, it doesn’t matter. Get in here, here! [Pushes him into the bedroom and breathlessly falls into a chair.]

 

[The door opens and Don Balthazar, with a candle in his hand, enters.]

 

Don Balthazar [to himself]: Cursed Sangre! What a position he has put me into! He is here — [Looks around suspiciously.] — I know that, and
     

 

Donna Dolores [in a weak voice]: Is that you, Don Balthazar?

 

Don Balthazar [with a forced smile]: Ah, good evening, my dear. How . . . how is your health? [Bowing his voice.] Oh, Madam, you . . . [Lowering his voice again.] I am not feeling very well to - day.

 

Donna Dolores [io herself]: What strange behavior! [Aloud.] Really, you do look a little pale. Where have you been, my lovely Balthazar?

 

Don Balthazar: I am pale! H - m, and why am I pale? Do you know? Do you know? [Mimicing her.] “Lovely Balthazar”! “Lovely” is derived from the word “love.” Do you love me, Senora?

 

Donna Dolores: What’s the matter with you, Senor? You are nervous.

 

Don Balthazar: And aren’t you nervous, too? Let me feel your pulse. Aha! I think your pulse is beating very fast. It is strange, truly strange. Why are you all by yourself, in the dark, without a candle? Why?

 

Donna Dolores [timidly]: I don’t understand you, Senor.

 

Don Balthazar [flashing up]: You don’t understand me! Ha, you don’t understand me!

 

[Donna Dolores shudders, and looks at him immovably.]

 

Don Balthazar: Why are you shuddering?

 

Donna Dolores: I — I . . . you are frightening me.

 

Don Balthazar: Why should you be frightened? Perhaps your conscience isn’t clear.

 

[Somebody raps lightly on the door.]

 

Don Balthazar: Yes — pardon me. What did I want to say? Oh, I ... am not altogether well to - day. Please, don’t pay any attention to me. I frightened you, my dear little kitten. Well, you know, I am a funny fellow. [Stepping aside.] You snake, snake, Sangre, Sangre! [Quickly and loudly.] I have come to tell you that I am not going to stay home to - night, — that is, I will be in very late, but don’t be uneasy about me. My friend, the judge, is going to have a little party of most amiable people — [He wipes the perspiration from his face.] — and we have decided to stay there until morning. Old fellows like me ought not to stay out nights, but it is hard sometimes to refuse a friend. [Aside.] Ugh! [Aloud.] So I told them that I would remain, on condition that I could run over to see you for a minute first, and tell you about it, so as to save you from worrying. Well, goodbye, now.

 

Donna Dolores: Good - bye, Don Balthazar. See that you don’t remain too long at the judge’s.

 

Don Balthazar: Really? How considerate you are! [Flashing up again.] And you are not at all surprised that I, — your husband, — I, Don Balthazar d’Esturiz, have decided to stay overnight in a strange house? You are not at all surprised at that? Have I ever . . . [Getting control of himself.] — But that isn’t the point, that isn’t the point. [To himself.] Oh, Lord, I can’t leave this room! My position is terrible. [Aloud.] Well, good - bye. You like to say good - bye to me? Confess, you like it. You don’t detain me.

 

Donna Dolores [in a weak voice]: If you like, — you may remain.

 

Don Balthazar: Well, I think I will remain. You are asking me to, so I think I will. Oh, I see! You are getting pale. From joy, I suppose? What would I do at the judge’s house? [Sits down in a chair.] It is so nice here, and so quiet. Isn’t that true, Senora?

 

Donna Dolores: But . . . your friends, perhaps . . .

 

Don Balthazar: Friends? What friends have I? I have no friends. I will remain here. Ah, Senora, you thought . . .

 

[The door opens and Sangr£ enters. He is pale.]

 

Don Pablo [bowing]: Pardon me, Senora, I pray you. I venture to come into your room without your permission, only because your kind friend, the judge, has sent me after your husband. My dear Balthazar, all our friends are waiting for you with great impatience. You promised them that you would return immediately. Come on, let’s go.

 

Don Balthazar [getting up involuntarily]: I — I’ll just stay a little. ... I am tired . . . my friend.

 

Don Pablo [taking him to one side, and whispering]: You are an old woman! [Balthazar starts to answer him.] Ssh! She is looking at us. We could catch him even now, but you have consented to subject her to a test, to see what she will do, knowing that you will not be home for some time. [Aloud.] Nonsense! You are not tired. You are not an old man. You and I are not old men yet. Don’t pretend, my dear. . . . [To Donna Dolores.] I promise you, Senora, that after a week has elapsed, you will not recognize your husband. He has confessed to me to - day that he is tired of living on the outskirts, that he is going to move into Madrid, and that there he will begin to live; that you will go out driving and be generally merry. [Laughs.] What do you think of your husband’s intentions? I am sure you haven’t expected such a sudden change in your husband. Yes, yes, I am sure there are still a lot of unexpected things in store for you. But come on, my dear. You see, — Donna Dolores is tired. It is time for her to go to bed. Our presence makes her more irritable. Oh, I am quite sure that she will fall asleep, and sleep with a calm, quiet, and innocent sleep. By the way, my dear Balthazar, this morning a raven croaked on the roof of this house. Have that foolish bird shot, will you? Old folks say that ravens are messengers of misfortune. Though I don’t believe in that nonsense, still it would be better to have it shot. Senora, I wish you a goodnight.

BOOK: Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)
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