Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (454 page)

BOOK: Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)
10.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
 

Kuzovkin: The Lord knows what the cause was. I am sure it was either that I got out of my mind, or the wine did it because I am not used to it. I drank and drank; then I said . . . The Lord knows what I said! It happens . . . But I am guilty all around, and I am fairly well punished for it. [Wants to get up.~\ Permit me to say good - bye, Olga Petrovna, and don’t think badly of me.

 

Olga: I see that you don’t want to talk frankly with me. You are afraid of me. I am not Pavel Nikolaich. You may be a little afraid of him because you don’t know him. Apparently he is very harsh. But why are you afraid of me? You knew me when I was a child.

 

Kuzovkin: Olga Petrovna, you have a very angelic heart. Have mercy upon a poor, old man.

 

Olga: On the contrary, I wish to . . .

 

Kuzovkin: Don’t remind me of your youth. Mv heart is leaden as it is. Oh, what a bitter cup is mine! In my old age I am obliged to leave your house for a fault of my own!

 

Olga: Listen, Vasili Petrovich. There is still a means of helping your troubles. Only be frank with me. Listen, I . . . [(S%e gets up and goes to one side a little.]

 

Kuzovkin [follomng her with his eyes]: Don’t work yourself up, Olga Petrovna. Truly, it isn’t worth while. Even there, I shall pray to the Lord for you. You needn’t think of me but just once in a great while, and say: “The old Kuzovkin was a devoted friend of mine.”

 

Olga [turning to Kuzovkin again]: Vasili Petrovich, are you really devoted to me? Do you really love me?

 

Kuzovkin: My dear . . . command me to die for you . . .

 

Olga: No, I do not wish your death. I want the truth. I want to know the truth!

 

Kuzovkin: Yes, ma’am.

 

Olga: I ... I heard your last exclamation.

 

Kuzovkin [hardly able to pronounce a word]: W - h - a - t!

 

Olga: I heard what you said about me. [Kuzovkin gets up from the chair and falls on his knees.] Is it true?

 

Kuzovkin: Please be so magnanimous as to forgive me. I repeat, I was out of my mind. I . . . [His voice breaks.]

 

Olga: No, you don’t want to tell me the truth.

 

Kuzovkin: I was out of my mind, Olga Petrovna. Pardon me . . .

 

Olga [catching hold of his hand]: No. No! For the Lord’s sake ... I beseech you in the name of the Lord! I pray you, tell me! Is it true? Is it true? [He is silent.] Why do you plague me so?

 

Kuzovkin: Do you really want to know the truth?

 

Olga: Yes, tell me, is it true?

 

[Kuzovkin lifts up his eyes and looks straight at Olga.

 

The features of his face express a fierce inner struggle.

 

Suddenly he drops his head and murmurs: “It is true!” Olga quickly steps back and remains immovable. Kuzovkin covers his face with his hands. The sitting - room door opens and Eletski enters. First he does not notice Kuzovkin, who is on his knees. He goes up to his wife.]

 

Eletski: Well, have you finished?
[Stops in doubt.] Ah, voila, je vous ai dit.
Hm! He began to ask your pardon . . .

 

Olga: Paul, leave us alone.

 

Eletski [not grasping the situation]: Mais, ma chere .. .

 

Olga: Please, I ask you, leave us alone!

 

Eletski [after a moment’s silence]: Very well, as you like. Only I hope that you will explain this puzzle to me. [Olga nods her head in acquiescence, and Eletski slowly goes out.]

 

Olga [goes quickly up to the door of the sitting - room, shuts and locks the door, and returns to Kuzovkin, who is still on his knees]: Get up, get up, I ask you.

 

Kuzovkin [rising slowly]: Olga Petrovna . . . [He apparently doesn’t know what to say.]

 

Olga [pointing to the divan]: Sit down here. [Kuzovkin sits down. Olga remains at a little distance and stands a little sideways.] Vasili Petrovich, do you understand my position?

 

Kuzovkin [weakly]: Olga Petrovna, I see it clearly. I have lost my mind. Permit me to go. Otherwise I may make matters even worse, for I don’t know what I am saying.

 

Olga [breathing heavily and quickly]: No, Vasili Petrovich! All the harm is done. Now you cannot take your words back. You must tell me all — all . . . the whole truth.

 

Kuzovkin: But I . . .

 

Olga [quickly]: I want you to understand at last my posi

 

tion, also yours. You have either slandered my mother . . . In that case, leave the house at once and don’t ever let me see you again. [STie shows him the door. Kuzovkin wants to get up and go, but remains in his seat.] Ah! You see, you are not going, you are remaining . . .

 

Kuzovkin [gloomily]: Oh, Lord, my Lord!

 

Olga: I want to know everything. You must tell me everything, do you hear me?

 

Kuzovkin [in despair]: Wlell, yes ... yes .. . You shall know everything, as long as the misfortune has befallen me. Only, Olga Petrovna, don’t look at me that way . . . Otherwise I ... I cannot . . .

 

Olga [trying to smile]: Vasili Petrovich, I . . .

 

Kuzovkin [timidly]: My name is Vasili Semenych, Olga Petrovna. [Olga blushes and shrugs her shoulders. She still keeps her position distant from Kuzovkin.] Yes . . . Where do you want me to begin?

 

Olga [blushing and growing confused]: Vasili Semenych, how do you want me . . . that I . . .

 

Kuzovkin [ready to weep]: But I cannot speak when you . . .

 

Olga [stretching her hand to him]: Calm yourself. Speak! Don’t you see the condition I’m in . . . Control yourself.

 

Kuzovkin: Very well, my dear Olga Petrovna. Well, where shall I begin? Oh, Lord, oh, Lord! Well, yes, then ... If you will permit me, I shall tell you a little bit at first . . . Yes, I shall tell you a little now . . . Yes, now ... I was a little over twenty. I ‘was born, it must be stated, in poverty, and finally was left without a bite of bread, and that was, it must be said, on account of the injustice . . . However, I had absolutely no bringing up. Your deceased father — [Olga shudders]\ — blessed be his memory! — took pity upon me. Otherwise, I would have starved to death. “Live in my house,” said he, “until I shall find you a position.” Thus I came to be here. Well, surely to find a position for one with nothing is a problem, and so I remained here. Your father at that time was still a bachelor. About two years afterwards, he began to court your mother, and soon after he married her. And so he began to live with your mother, and two boys were born. They both died soon afterward. Then I must tell you, Olga Petrovna, that your father was an impetuous man — so impetuous, may the Lord forgive him! Then he was very bald, and when he was mad he wouldn’t know himself. Also he loved to drink. However, he was a good man and was my benefactor. Well, at the beginning, your father lived with your deceased mother very happily, but it didn’t last very long. Your mother — may she enjoy the Heavenly Kingdom! — was, I must say, an angel and a most beautiful woman, but Fate . . . We had a woman neighbor at that time . . . Your Father became very much attached to her . . . Olga Petrovna, pardon me, if I . . .

 

Olga: Continue.

 

Kuzovkin: You yourself demanded it. [Rubs his face with his hand.] Oh, Lord, oh, Lord! Help me, sinner that I am! Well, your father got attached to this woman — may she be eternally condemned! — he visited her daily and often didn’t return home for the night. Things went topsy - turvy. Your mother used to sit all alone for days, in silence, or she would weep. I, of course, sat here, too, and my heart was bursting for pain, but I didn’t say a word. Moreover, I thought my foolish words wouldn’t help her anyway. The other neighbors, the land - owners, etc., didn’t willingly come to visit your father; he drove them away from his house with his high airs. So it came about that your dear mother hadn’t anyone to say a word to her. She used to sit, the dear woman, near the window and wouldn’t even feel like reading anything. She’d sit there for hours and gaze upon the highroad and upon the fields, and your father’s bad habits grew worse, though there was no apparent reason for it. He became so severe that it was unendurable, and here again was a surprise. He began to grow jealous of your mother, and there was no one to be jealous of, the Lord knows. He used to go away and lock her in her room. Every nonsense would bring him into a rage, and the more your mother tried to please him, the worse he grew. Finally, he stopped talking to her altogether; in fact, he gave her up. Oh, Olga Petrovna, Olga Petrovna, she suffered at that time, very much! You cannot remember her, Olga Petrovna. You were too young, my dear girl, when she died. Such a good soul as she was, I am sure there isn’t one left. And how she loved your father! But he didn’t even look at her, and in his absence she used to talk to me about him and how to help the matter, how to please him. Suddenly one day he packed up and went to Moscow, saying that he was going alone on business, but he didn’t go alone. At the first station this woman neighbor awaited him, and together they went away, and for six months — six whole months — nothing was heard from them. For six months, Olga Petrovna, he didn’t even write a letter home. Suddenly he returned, and was so down - hearted and so mad. The woman had left him, as we afterwards heard. He shut himself up in his room, and didn’t come out at all. Everybody in the house was greatly surprised at his actions. Your mother finally couldn’t resist. She crossed herself, for the poor woman feared him, and went into his room. She began to plead with him, but he began to shout, and lifting a cane . . . [Kuzovkin looks at Olga.] I beg your pardon, Olga Petrovna.

 

Olga: Are you telling me the truth, Yasili Semenych?

 

Kuzovkin: May the Lord strike me dead upon this very spot!

 

Olga: Continue, then.

 

Kuzovkin: And so he . . . oh, Olga Petrovna! — and so he insulted your mother with words and . . . The poor woman almost as if insane, came running back to her room, and he called people, and in the distant field . . . Here . . . here something happened . . . [His voice weakens.] I cannot tell any more, Olga Petrovna, so help me the Lord, I” cannot! . . .

 

Olga [not looking at him]: Speak! [After some little silence with impatience.] Speak!

 

Kuzovkin: I shall obey you, Olga Petrovna. I am inclined to think that from this terrible insult your deceased mother’s mind turned a little. She got sick. As if I were seeing her now, she went into the image room, stopped in front of the ikons, lifted her hand as if to cross herself, but suddenly turned away and left the room. She even laughed quietly. The Evil One surely got the best of her. I felt badly, looking at her. At the table she didn’t eat anything. She was silent, and had her eyes fixed upon me. And in the evening . . . Evenings, Olga Petrovna, I used to sit with her in this very room. Sometimes we’d play cards for want of something better to do, and sometimes we’d indulge in a little conversation. Well, on that evening . . . [His voice chokes him] your deceased mother after a long silence threw herself upon me . . . and I, Olga Petrovna, almost worshipped the ground your mother walked upon, and I loved your mother. Suddenly she said to me: “Vasili Semenych, I know you love me, and he hates me. He has left me, insulted me, and so I . . .” Well, her judgment must have left her, Olga Petrovna. She completely lost herself . . . and I, but I . . . but I do not remember anything. My head was swimming. It is swimming even now when I think of it. Suddenly she gave herself up. Olga Petrovna, have mercy upon an old man ... I cannot. I’d sooner have my tongue cut out. [Olga is silent and turns away from him. Kuzovkin looks at her, and then continues somewhat quickly.] On the following day, as I remember now, I didn’t remain in the house. At dawn I ran off to the woods. The day after that a messenger on horseback came riding into the yard, and when he was asked what brought him there, he said that Master had fallen from his horse and been killed; that he was lying there unconscious. That was on the following day, Olga Petrovna, on the following day. Your mother had a carriage ordered and went to him. He lay in a little house on the prairie belonging to the priest, about forty versts away. As fast as she drove, she did not find him alive. Oh, Lord, oh, Lord! We all thought that she’d go insane. She was sick up to your birth, and didn’t get any better even after. You know yourself she didn’t live long after you were born. [He hangs his head.]

BOOK: Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)
10.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Clay by Jennifer Blake
Moonlit Embrace by Lyn Brittan
Escaping Love by Debra Smith
BENEATH - A Novel by Jeremy Robinson
The Truth Club by Grace Wynne-Jones
Homecoming by Elizabeth Jennings


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024