Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (436 page)

BOOK: Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)
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[Dolores gets up carefully, and runs to the door. She tries to open it and to scream.]

 

Don Pablo [going up to her and bringing her back to the chair]: No, you cannot run away.

 

Donna Dolores: Let me go!

 

Don Pablo: I am deeply offended by your fear. Oh, yes . . . you not only don’t love me, but you hate me! You are afraid of me!

 

Donna Dolores: You are mad! Let me out.

 

Don Pablo: You can’t get out.

 

Donna Dolores [despairingly]: No, I can’t get out. You may be glad, cat, that you have a mouse within your paws!

 

Don Pablo: Very well, Madam! I am willing to carry out your comparison. As you say, you are within my paws now. But who told you to come out? The little mouse should have stayed in its hole, instead of coming out to look at the wide world.

 

Donna Dolores: But I will scream! I’ll call for help
  

 

Don Pablo [completely controlling himself]: Stop! That is a childish threat. Or have you really believed me? I confess, I didn’t suspect myself of being such a conversational artist.

 

[Donna Dolores looks at him piercingly.]

 

Don Pablo [gloomily]: No, I can’t deceive you. You know, you know now, that I love you.

 

Donna Dolores: But what do I care about your love? What right does your unsought love, that you are forcing upon me, give you? Shame on you, Senor! For two years, you have lived almost under the same roof with a man whom you call your friend, and for that length of time, you have been carrying in your mind such dishonorable, such traitorous thoughts! And all the while you were so eloquently silent!

 

Don Pablo: And you expected that I, — not a young man, but ambitious and strong - headed, a man, whose hopes, convictions and beliefs, are all broken like soap - bubbles, — you expected that I would go on chattering, sighing, like that foolish little boy. . . .

 

Donna Dolores: He is a great deal brighter than you are, Senor, because he, at least, got one step nearer to his point. I confess that I like him. But you, sir, are crafty, arrogant, silent and timid. Such men, — women don’t like!

 

Don Pablo: If you only knew, Dolores, what a good heart you are trampling under your feet . . .

 

Donna Dolores: Really? However, every man imagines that his heart is a treasure, — an untouched treasure, — and therefore, I don’t want to deprive you of it.

 

Don Pablo: Oh, how beautifully you talk, Senora!

 

Donna Dolores: I can’t compare with you, Senor. “Two years of eloquent . . . silence” . . . “eloquent”! — I like that word.

 

Don Pablo: Don’t fool with a dagger. You might cut yourself.

 

Donna Dolores: I am not afraid of you.

 

Don Pablo: Oh, no, you are not afraid of me, since you have found out that I love you! But take heed! My love is a most peculiar kind. Moreover, I am convinced now, that you don’t love me.

 

Donna Dolores: You are convinced now! And were you not convinced before?

 

Don Pablo: Laugh, laugh at me! If you had only known with what feelings I have looked at you; how gladly I would have gone down on my knees for you; with what delight I would have put my head down at your feet and awaited one stray look, given as alms! If I had thought that all that wouldn’t have been in vain . . .

 

Donna Dolores [laughing venomously]: Who knows?

 

Don Pablo [looking at her thoughtfully]: And what is it I like about this light - haired girl? How strange! Upon everybody I have met, — like, for instance, Balthazar, — I have had an almost unexplainable influence, but upon her -
 
-

 

Donna Dolores: I am tired of you.

 

Don Pablo [taking her hand]: Look me straight in the face. You have no time for joking, believe me. Do you think that you will not be punished for having seen my tears? For two years, you have tormented me so unconcernedly, so indifferently, and now, you are laughing at me! And do you think that I cannot avenge myself?

 

Donna Dolores [in a somewhat quivering voice]: You can’t frighten me. I am in my own house. Like a child, I believed your foolish joke that you played upon me. Yes, yes. Now don’t pretend surprise. I know you made a bargain with Margaret and with my husband, and perhaps, with that young man; but now, as the mistress of the house, I tell you, as a guest, that I am tired of you; that your conversation doesn’t interest me in the least, and regardless of your promises, I ask you to go away. To - morrow, nay, right now, I will tell Don Balthazar all that you have said to me. He won’t stand for this offence.

 

Don Pablo: No, Senora! I didn’t get into any bargains with Master Rafael; but, I confess, I did tell Margaret to leave the key in your room, and I told Don Balthazar to tell you that he would spend the night at the Judge’s house. I advised him to give you the opportunity of being alone with your beloved caller. Why did I do that, you ask? You might as well ask a man, who cannot restrain his horses from running down a hill, why he lets them gallop? Long and slow — two whole years it has taken to prepare our ruin. Now, it is ready to fall upon us. I couldn’t restrain myself, and I have prepared the fall.

 

Donna Dolores: I repeat: I am not a bit concerned about your feelings, or about your ruin.

 

Don Pablo: So . . . and T am not a bit concerned about your fear; about your exasperation. [Donna Dolokes becomes thoughtful.] What are you thinking about?

 

Donna Dolohes: You want to know what I am thinking about? I am thinking, that, if my husband were proud and brave, a true protector of his wife, I would ask him with hot tears to defend me and punish you. And I would welcome him with joy as conqueror.

 

Don Pablo: Ask Don Balthazar to call me out to a duel.

 

Donna Dolores: Senor! It is time for you to stop this joking.

 

Don Pablo: Time? You say it is time . . .

 

Donna Dolores: If so, good - bye.

 

Don Pablo: You still don’t understand me.

 

Donna Dolores [proudly]: My dear sir, I don’t want to understand you.

 

Don Pablo [bowing]: Senora! What thoughts . . .

 

Donna Dolores [disdainfully]: Do you want to kill me?

 

[Sangre is silent. During this silence, somebody knocks at the door and Balthazar’s voice is heard: “Pablo! Pablo! Will you be through soonf]

 

Don Pablo: Soon, my dear, soon. Your wife is still nervous.

 

[Dolores tries to scream. He pulls out his dagger, quickly, and threatens her silently.]

 

Don Pablo: Come back in a quarter of an hour, my dear.

 

Don Balthazar’s Voice: Very well.

 

Don Pablo [going up nearer to Dolores]: Dolores! You understand, that, beginning with this evening, my relationship with you and with your husband, will be completely changed. I feel that I can neither part with you, nor forget you; that you cannot love me, and therefore, that the in

 

evitable must happen. I have given away, I confess, to an irresistible impulse. I don’t resist, and I don’t want to resist. I believe in Fate. Only children don’t believe in Fate. Fate sent that boy up here. He spoke, and boasted that he believed neither in vice nor in virtue; he is a buffoon, or a child. He believes in luck, and I — [he becomes thoughtful.]
    

 

Donna Dolores [in a quivering voice]: Sehor! Senor Don Pablo! Is it possible that you are not joking? Oh, surely, you are joking! You want to kill me? Ha, you are laughing yourself. We women always think of the impossible. We are always afraid of something, — we don’t know what. Confess . . . You spoke so strangely, and . . . Hide your dagger, for Heaven’s sake! Listen, Senor: I do not love you, — that is, you have said that I do not love you, but you yourself have always been so gloomy, so silent, — could I have ever thought
        

 

Don Pablo: Senora!

 

Donna Dolores: Sangre! Let me go out. Truly, I am tired from all the occurrences of to - day. I swear to you, that I will not mention a word of all this to Don Balthazar. You will come to us as before; you will remain our friend, as before, and I
  

 

Don Pablo: Your words are in vain, Dolores.

 

Donna Dolores: Listen; you wanted to frighten me; you have reached your point. Look at me: I am shivering like a leaf. Don’t torment me any longer.

 

Don Pablo: I won’t torment you very long.

 

Donna Dolores: Don’t look so solemn, Pablo. Laugh! I want to hear ... I want to see you laugh.

 

Don Pablo: A woman’s tricks are out of place, now, Dolores.

 

Donna Dolores: Sangre! Bethink yourself. What is the matter with you? Have pity upon me. What have I done to you, Sangre? Is it possible that my foolish prank has maddened you to this extent? My God! Is it possible that I am going to die to - day, in this dress, and in this room? I am so young, Pablo. Have pity on me. Don’t ruin my youth.

 

Don Pablo: Together with your first youth, will perish my second. As long as you live, I can have no rest. [Goes up to her.]

 

Donna Dolores [terrified]: But why do you want to kill me?

 

Don Pablo: Blood has a cleansing power. Pray!

 

Donna Dolores [falling on her knees]: Sangre! For Heaven’s sake . . .

 

Don Pablo: Dolores, your fate has been decided. You are pleading to the very stone that is going to fall upon your head.

 

Donna Dolores [despairingly]: How do you know that I might not come to love you in the future?

 

Don Pablo [smiling ironically]: How do I know? Dolores! One kiss . . .

 

Donna Dolores [jumping up]: Go away! Oh, how I hate you! Did you hear what I said? I hate you! I am not a bit ashamed of my words, because I hoped to deceive you. What grieves me, is that I didn’t succeed. I am going to defend myself; I am going to call for help.

 

Don Pablo: Dolores!

 

Donna Dolores: I don’t want to die. Help! Help!

 

Don Pablo: Don’t scream!

 

Donna Dolores: Save me, save me, Balthazar!

 

Don Balthazar’s Voice: What’s the noise?

 

Donna Dolores: He wants to kill me, Balthazar!

 

[The door squeaks from Balthazar’s pressure against it.]

 

Don Pablo [running up to her]: All is over. Donna Dolores [despairingly]: Yes, all is over. You contemptible old man! I do love Bafael. Don Pablo: Be still! [He stabs her.] Donna Dolores: Oh! [Falls and dies.]

 

[Don Balthazar breaks in the door, and stops, terrified, on the threshold.] Don Balthazar: Oh, Lord! What does this mean? Don Pablo: It means that I loved your wife. . . .

BOOK: Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)
12.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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