Eyes Like the Sea: A Novel

by Mór Jókai

  CHAPTER XIX

  ESAIAS MEDVESI[110]

  [Footnote 110: Bearish.]

  It fared with Wenceslaus Kvatopil as I had predicted.

  I am very sorry, but I really can't help it. Willingly would I bring himback a full major if it depended on me; but it was written in the bookof fate that the worthy officer was to end his heroic career on thebattle-field. He had at least the consolation of falling in a famousbattle. While MacMahon at Solferino broke through the mass of Schlick'sforces, Benedek on the right wing pressed victoriously forwards anddrove the Piedmontese army under Victor Emmanuel as far back as SanMartino, and there it was that a mortal bullet struck Captain Kvatopilthrough the heart. Yet I am able to say that at that moment the kissesof his lovely wife pressed the lips of nobody but his own deserteddaughter.

  The two widows could now share the widow's veil between them in peace.

  The bigamy became known, but of course they could not bring an actionfor it against a dead man. The events of those great days quicklyobliterated all recollection of the petty scandal. Both Anna and Bessycould now assume the title of Widow Kvatopil, and nobody could have aword to say against it. There was this little difference, however, thatwhile the one might style herself Mrs. Captain Kvatopil, the other hadonly the right to Mrs. Lieutenant.

  By the intervention of her lawyer, and with my consent as her guardian,Bessy recovered her deposited caution-money. One thousand florins of itshe gave as a gift to Anna, who returned with it to Cracow to herfather's. The rest of the money Bessy invested in a pretty little house,in the village where she was stopping, surrounded by a pleasant garden.I was now quite easy in my mind as to her subsequent fate. She had nowher own house, an honourable title--"_Ozvegy Kapitanyne_,"[111] and acertain regular income. In the little village where she was she couldplay a leading part. In her present situation, moreover, she wascompletely protected against all the snares of the evil world, for inthis particular village every man was virtuous, and the women ruled themwith a rod of iron. To stumble, make a _faux pas_, and fall into sin wasnot possible, because it was not allowed.

  [Footnote 111: Lit., The widowed Captain's lady.]

  I could now be quite easy as to Bessy's prospects. A woman who hadlearnt such bitter experience at her own cost could not help drawingconclusions from the past; and if ever she were to make her choiceagain she certainly would not allow herself to be led astray bysuperficial graces, but would judge him whom she might definitely andfinally select as the partner of her destiny by his inner worth alone. Ieven took the trouble, with the true solicitude of a guardian, to writethis beautiful and sensible phrase to her in a letter. I also impressedupon her not to give herself away to any official "for the time being,"or any other kind of dog-headed Tartar, for such a husband could only beprovisional.[112] She gave me her word that she would not do so.

  [Footnote 112: Towards this period it was plain that the Austriandomination of Hungary could not last much longer, and that the foreignofficials who had been appointed by the Vienna Court must speedilygo.--TR.]

  For nearly four years I heard nothing more of Bessy. She had fallen intothe ranks of those women who do nothing to make people talk about them,and this category is the best of all. Every year I sent her the intereston her money; she acknowledged the receipt of it with thanks, and--thatwas all.

  But I, too, had cause enough not to think of those lovely but dangerousEyes like the Sea.

  My evil stars were in the ascendant.

  Not a year passed without a heavy blow descending on my head. At onetime it was a dear dead friend whom I had to bury; at another time I hadto go through a severe illness which brought me to the very brink ofdeath; I had scarcely recovered when my wife also fell dangerously ill.Through the conduct of persons whom I had regarded as my friends I verynearly became bankrupt; I had to work day and night at my writing-tableto draw myself out of the mire. Then my publisher bolted to America;then came a year of calamity, when nobody cared a fig for either booksor newspapers; then I had to fight a duel through no fault of my own;and all along there was the wretched fate of my country, which demandedmy help. The whole plan of winning back our confiscated liberties was_my_ secret; I was the organ of the Committee, the organ that wastormented, persecuted, insulted by a derisive tyranny. Life under suchconditions was like a dreadful dream--an incoherent, continuallyshifting vision of hope, an eternal nightmare; and when I awoke fromthis nightmare I found I was quite bald.

  One fine spring the Fairy Queen of my fantastic dreams locked me up inprison by way of variation. Nobody can escape his fate. I had founded apolitical journal. I was its responsible editor and publisher. Myassistants were the votadores of the Liberal party. We soon had a largepublic. I had quite enough to do. It was my business to write romancesfor this paper, and leading articles too. Once an admirably elaboratedarticle was sent to me, signed by one of the most illustrious namesamong the Hungarian magnate families. Without more ado I published it.It was a loyal, patriotic article on purely constitutional lines,showing in the most matter of fact way in the world the justice and thenecessity of a constitutional government for Hungary. On account of thisarticle, the Governor brought both the Count who wrote it and the editorwho inserted it before a court-martial. He signified to the pair of usbeforehand that he meant to lock us up for three months for it.

  The court-martial consisted of a colonel, a major, a captain, a seniorand a junior lieutenant, a sergeant, a corporal, and a private; the lastfour were Bohemians. Before this Areopagus I delivered a powerfuldefence in German, to which they naturally replied "March!" The tribunalcondemned me and my comrade the Count to twelve months hard labour inirons, on bread and water, with enforced fasting, loss of nobility, anda fine of a thousand florins.

  When the sentence was read out, I said to the President:

  "This is very strange. The Governor promised us only three months."

  To this the President replied with a smile:

  "Yes, three months for the incriminated article, but nine more for yourhigh-flying defence."

  Our sentence was for no offence against the press-laws. Oh dear, no! Wewere condemned for inciting to a breach of the peace. The Count and Ihad been throwing stones at the windows, and breaking the gas-lamps inKerepesi Street! It was as public brawlers that we were sent to cool ourheels in jail!

  The reader must not expect me, however, to weave a martyr's crown formyself, or describe the tortures of the Venetian dungeons.... The wholeof my life in prison was a pure joke and diversion. The Commandant ofthe place, with whom I lived, used to come every day to tell and be toldanecdotes, and then took me out for country walks. He had mywriting-table, my books, and my carpentering tools brought into mydungeon, and it was there that I turned out a bust of my wife. TheCommandant also was passionately fond of carpenter's work, so we workedaway together at our lathes as if for a wager. There was no talkwhatever of chains or fetters, and I was allowed to have with my breadand water the best that money could purchase from the inn. In theafternoons my friends from the Pest Club came to play cards with me, sothat when, on one occasion, one of my most radical acquaintances,Beniczky, entered my apartment and looked around, he exclaimed withcontemptuous indignation: "Call this a dungeon! Why, there's no romanceat all about this sort of thing!"

  Once I took my fellow-prisoner and my jailer to my villa at Svabhegy,where my wife had made ready for us a splendid supper. I tapped my newwine, and we amused ourselves to such a very late hour that when wereturned they would hardly let us into prison again. Fortunately we hadthe Provost with us, and with our assistance he managed to force his wayin.

  And then my visitors!

  In the whole course of my life I never received so many visitors asduring the _month_ that my _year's_ captivity lasted. In the followingmonth, by the way, I had to make room for the editor of the _officious_government, who was also condemned by the court-martial for disturbingthe public peace.

  I was sought out in my dungeon by all sorts of good friends, who came
from far--lords and ladies, countesses and actresses. It happened oncethat a magnate's wife, who was a great invalid, and therefore could notascend to the second flight where our prison was, begged us to come downto her carriage, and there we received our visitor in the street--poorslaves that we were!

  In fact, I had too much of a good thing.

  How could I work when my admirers were crowding at my latch all daylong? At last I had to beg my jailer, with tears in my eyes, to sentenceme to _solitary_ confinement for a couple of hours every day, and writeon my door the hours when I was free to receive company. "Wasn't I inprison?" I said.

  I had an honest Bohemian lad as my servant. His name was Wenceslaus. Wesoon got to understand each other very well.

  I explained to him that at certain hours when I was sitting down towork nobody was to be admitted--except when a pretty woman came to seeme.

  _Honi soit qui mal y pense!_

  And singularly enough, one cannot imagine a more convenient place for anassignation than such a dungeon as mine. I only wonder that our_bon-viveurs_ have not grasped the fact. And what a capital place for anafternoon nap such a locality really is! The best advice I can give toany one who suffers from sleeplessness is--get yourself locked up! Is itnot a special mercy of Providence that slaves can sleep so soundly?

  One afternoon Wenceslaus aroused me from my sweet afternoon nap with theintimation that a pretty woman wanted to speak to me.

  "Really pretty?"

  "Oh yes!"

  "Oh yes?"

  "Oh yes, yes!"

  It was indeed "oh yes!" for it was Bessy.

  She was dressed in complete mourning, with a black silk veil over herhead. I saw from her eyes that she was in mourning for my fate.

  I anticipated her by making her a compliment.

  "Why, how nice you look, my dear ward! The country air seems to agreewith you."

  With this I put a stop to her tearful anxiety on my account.

  "I see that the air of a dungeon has not done you much harm, either."

  "And how did you get in here?"

  "Not very easily, I can tell you. They would hardly let me in. They saidthat the prisoner was confined to his room. I thought of giving thewarder a box on the ears, and then perhaps they would have shut me upalong with you by way of punishment."

  "That would have, indeed, been a _heavy_ chain to bear."

  She laughed.

  "I understand the allusion. My figure _has_ become a little sturdy, Iknow. What else has a person to do in a little country town but growfat?"

  "It is a sign of peace of mind," I said.

  I offered her my arm-chair, and in this act of politeness she readanother allusion.

  "It has good strong legs, I hope?" said she, as she sat down in it.

  I must candidly admit that her figure had grown pronouncedly rotund, butthis by no means injured her beauty. She really looked quite appetizing!I was very glad, too, to see her again.

  "Don't take my remarks amiss," I said; "it is so good for the poor slavewhen a smiling lady's face lights up the gloom of his dungeon. A sweet,melodious woman's voice sounds so consolingly amidst the clanking of hisfetters."

  "I am glad to see that you preserve your good humour, for I have come toyou on a very serious business."

  "What! Then it was _not_ tender sympathy for the poor captive thatbrought you hither?"

  "That also--I may even say principally. Every day I read in the_Fovarosi Lapok_ how many and what sort of visitors you receive--nobleladies, pretty actresses, and what not. Well, thought I, if they may goand see him, it is only my duty to go too. At the same time there areother circumstances which have brought me here."

  At this she furtively looked around her.

  "Won't they hear what we are talking about through that door?"

  "Have no fear. That room is empty. My fellow-prisoner is provided with aseparate apartment."

  "I have come to inform you of something. I have petitioned the office ofwards to relieve you from your guardianship."

  "And you've very good cause, too, I think, seeing that I myself havebeen under guardianship for some time."

  "That's not my reason, however. But my position has now become such asto make it indispensable for me to have the free disposal of my money."

  "May I guess the cause? Another misfortune has happened. We have lostour heart again, eh?"

  Bessy covered her blushing face with her silk veil.

  "Eh, but how you do always detect a thing at once! You would have made acapital magistrate."

  "But it is such a natural thing to suppose. You are so young, you know."

  "I am well advanced in the thirties."

  "You are only four years over thirty. I ought to know, for I was at yourchristening. Then you have once more discovered your ideal?"

  "This time I most solemnly believe that I really have found him."

  "But no provisional person, I hope?"

  "Don't insult me, please."

  "I'm above such a thing. But, as your guardian, I would not have givenmy consent to it; so I was bound to suppose that that was why you wantedto be freed from my guardianship."

  "Not at all! In future also I mean to take your advice as though it camefrom my own father. Scold me as much as you like when you catch metripping. I will continue to be your obedient ward if only you don'tshut the door in my face. All I want is my money. Believe me when I sayI will do nothing frivolous with it. The sum will remain to my credit,but I wish to be free to use it as I like in the future."

  "I presume your bridegroom is some squire to whom the amount will be ofservice?"

  "He is _not_ a squire."

  "Then perhaps he is a merchant? That also is an honourable walk in life.In good commercial hands the amount will yield a nice income."

  "He is not a merchant."

  "Then perhaps he is a manufacturer, the proprietor of a saw-mill or asteam-mill?"

  "Neither the one nor the other."

  "Then what on earth is he?"

  "My bridegroom is a worthy and eminent schoolmaster, whose name isEsaias Medvesi."

  "Esaias Medvesi! But what the deuce does a village schoolmaster wantwith twenty-five thousand florins?"

  "I'll tell you presently. But I must go a little farther back first.Have you the time to listen to my story?"

  "Of course I have: I remain at home all day."

  "Will nobody interrupt us?"

  "My servant is a very sensible fellow, he knows the rules of the place."

  "But won't they lock the door of the prison behind me?"

  An ordinary person would have replied to this question that it wouldhave been no great harm if they did; but I pulled out the drawer of mywriting-table and showed the fair lady that I had _my own key_ foropening my prison door. At this she laughed and seemed quite satisfied.

  "Well, I'll begin by telling you how I made his acquaintance."

  "What, your Ezzy?"

  "I beg your pardon, but you must always pronounce the name in full, oryou will aggravate its owner. He is very particular about giving toevery one his full name and corresponding titles; never breaks thatrule himself, and constantly addresses me as 'Worthy dame Captain!' Itis in vain to call me 'Madame' in his presence, for he roundly maintainsthat such a title belongs to the consort of the Prince of Transylvaniaonly. His motto is '_suum cuique_.' Oh, I've learnt such a lot of Latinsince I made his acquaintance?"

  "Oh, then you have been taking Latin lessons from him, and so theacquaintance began?"

  "No irony, please! It didn't begin that way at all. I suppose you knowthat in our little town there is a very well attended Calvinist church?"

  "I know it pretty well."

  "And I am a very zealous church goer?"

  "That I did _not_ know."

  "With us the laudable custom prevails of going to church every Sundayfor the purpose of devotion."

  "And to show off your new bonnets."

  "Don't make fun of me, please. Esaias is not only the schoo
lmaster, butthe cantor and the organist as well. He has a splendid bass voice. Whenhe intones the verse--

  'How blest the man whose walk in life ...'

  the whole podium trembles. It was that wondrously beautiful voice whichfirst enthralled me."

  "But I should have thought that the organ would have drowned the soundof the hymn?"

  "But not only in church have I had the opportunity of hearing him, butat funerals also."

  "Then you condescend to go to funerals too?"

  "Not as a habit. But you must know that most of the people there beg meto act as sponsor to their new-born children. Now, two-thirds of ourchildren seem only born to die, and I am obliged to always go to thefunerals of my little _proteges_."

  "Then Esaias is in the habit of speaking and singing over them?"

  "Yes, and what beautiful speeches they are too, all in verse."

  "So Esaias is a poet into the bargain?"

  "Yes, he really makes most beautiful verses."

  "And I've no doubt he wrote a nice onomasticon on St. Elizabeth's Day?"

  "He did nothing of the kind. He's not that sort of man. It is not hishabit to flatter anybody; on the contrary, he always tells them thetruth to their faces."

  "That is generally the distinguishing characteristic of all Calvinistschoolmasters."

  "Well, but let us keep to the point. I left off at the funerals, Ithink. I was struck by the frequent mortality among our little ones, andset in movement a project among the ladies of the town for starting a_creche_. The idea found zealous partisans. We soon found a largemeeting-room; the ladies supplied linen in large quantities; milk andother necessary aliments were provided by public subscription; money weresolved to collect in the usual way."

  "By a charitable concert?"

  "I see that you are a practical man. A charitable concert was indeedarranged, and a committee of seven appointed to manage it. The sessionsof this committee were held in my house; mine was the most convenientlocality, and I had a piano besides. Each member of the committee hadher part assigned to her: one was to recite, another to sing a solo, athird to give a comic reading, a fourth to play a piece on the piano, afifth to dance a Hungarian dance; I was to fiddle, Esaias was to singthe high priest's aria from the opera of _Nabucco_: 'He who trusts inthe Lord!'--You know the rest."

  "Of course I do. At the first meeting of the committee one of themembers had a slight misunderstanding with another member, at the secondmeeting a second member had a second misunderstanding, and by the timethe fifth meeting was held Esaias and yourself were left to practisealone."

  "That is, word for word, what did happen, with this little difference,that we never had any practice at all. On the fifth occasion, four ofthe six members of the committee sent letters of excuse. Every one ofthem was ill. It was a veritable epidemic. Only the dancing master foundno excuse for himself. As he was the only dancing-master in the town hecould not go and lie that he had sprained his foot.

  "Esaias walked three times up and down in front of my house, puffingaway at his big pipe. Every time he passed he looked up at the window,and, seeing nobody there, went on farther.

  "At last the dancing-master came _chasse_-ing up; I could see from hisgrinning face that he had some ill-tidings to tell me. Only people whohave found some excuse for covering their retreat come smiling likethat.

  "'My lady! I am inconsolable'--('I know all about _that_!' thoughtI)--'but I can't come to the concert. Our gipsy musicians have gone toPest.' ('What do they want there?' I asked.) 'All the gipsy bands in thekingdom have assembled together for a grand competition.... Now, withoutgipsy music I can't dance. Who can play me the "_Bihari Kesergo_," Ishould like to know?' ('I will!' I said.) 'Ha! ha! ha! that wouldn't doat all! What? _one_ dancer and _one_ violin-player!--it would be a merefarce.'

  "Hereupon Esaias popped in. Seeing through the window that I was nolonger alone, he took heart and came in. He had not dared to do sobefore."

  Here I intervened: "If I am not very much mistaken, I know this dearEsaias of yours. It once happened to him, while still a student, that hesat beside the priest's daughter at supper. He did not dare to say aword to her; but in the afternoon he went up the church tower andcourted the young lady from one of the windows."

  "It is possible that it was he. I, however, made both the gentlemenstay, that at least the coffee and 'cowl-skippers'[113] might not bewasted. They did not wait to be asked twice, but ate with right goodwill. During the meal we fully discussed the best means of helpingforward the stranded concert. Suddenly the dancing-master looked at hiswatch: 'Gracious me, if it isn't six o'clock! I must be off to give thechildren of the chief magistrate a dancing-lesson'--and with that hejumped up, kissed my hand, and pirouetted off.

  [Footnote 113: A sort of dumpling.]

  "Then Esaias also rose from the table, brushed the crumbs of thecowl-skippers from his coat, and said: 'Blessing and peace be withyou!'--This was always his parting formula. Such a salutation as 'Yourhumble servant!' or 'I commend myself to your protection!' nobody hasever heard from his lips--no, not even his superintendent; for Esaias isnot _humble_ and not _your servant_, and does not commend himself toanybody, nor will he tell a lie even as a matter of form.

  "'What! must you go too?' I replied to his 'blessing and peace.' 'Youhave no six-o'clock school this evening.'

  "'No; but why should I stay here if there's to be no practice?'

  "'Must I, then, begin singing in my own house before a man?'

  "'It depends upon the man,' replied Esaias.

  "'What am I to understand by that?' I inquired, much astonished.

  "'What are you to understand by that?' said he, striking the leg of hisboot repeatedly with his pipe stem--'what are you to understand by that?It is not very hard to understand, I should think. If a lawyer, adoctor, or a squire were to come to see you and amuse himself here withor without music, not a dog in the village would have anything to barkat; but if they saw the schoolmaster come here at six o'clock in theafternoon--if they saw him, I say, remain here last of all when theother guests were gone, then there would be such a stir in Israel thatmen would be ready to stone me.'

  "'Do I stand, then, in such evil odour as all that?'

  "'I did not say that you were in any evil odour at all.'

  "'It is true,' he continued, 'that there are as many names written inyour album as in Charles Trattner's almanack. That, however, does apretty woman no harm. But me the Church would not forgive. If I get intoevil odour, if I overstep the line, I shall be sent packing.'

  "'Then celibacy obtains among the Calvinists also?'

  "'Not celibacy, but we have the canonical prescriptions. A canonicaloffence is a very serious business for a Calvinist priest orschoolmaster. Let a man be a veritable John Chrysostom, and it willavail him nothing if he commit a canonical offence.'

  "'And _you_ have _never_ committed a canonical offence?' I said to him.

  "'Never!' he replied resolutely. And he grew quite red in the face. Hewas so proud of his virtue."

  "Why surely this is quite a new thing?" I interrupted--"a thing neverknown in the world before: a man who is virtuous, and not ashamed toconfess it?"

  "Quite unique, isn't it? When I heard this I seized his hand and wouldnot let him leave me. I could read from his eyes that it was the firsttime he had ever felt the pressure of a lady's hand. 'You have beencandid,' I said to him, 'I will be candid also. You would never approacha woman whom you had not led to the altar. I know it. Then you shalllead _me_ to the altar!'

  "Even this did not seem to surprise him. His face remained as motionlessas a statue.

  "'That is soon done,' said he; 'but _respice finem_! Man proposes, but'tis an old dog that holds on. I am not like other men. I am a verydifficult man to get on with. You can't deal with me as with those wholook through their fingers at the goings-on of their spouses. If I takeyou to wife, there must be an end to all this dancing and prancing andgadding about, and flirting and ogling. My wife will not have to gofasti
ng, but she won't be allowed any junketing. I don't understand ajoke. Do you see this cherry-wood pipe-stem? If I catch my wife at anypiece of trickery, I'll break this cherry-stem across her back--take myword for it.'"

  I couldn't help smiling at this. "And you, my dear, pretty ward, haveactually taken the schoolmaster to husband, cherry-stem and all?"

  "I should like to have taken him, but he didn't surrender himself soeasily. I assured him that I would submit myself to the most stringentdiscipline of virtue, and if I transgressed against him, I should notmind his beating me. But even that did not vanquish him. By no meanswhatever could he be brought to sit down beside me on the sofa. He evenpushed back the chair on which he was sitting, when he saw that I wasbesieging him. At last he brought his big guns to bear upon me.

  "'Look now, my dear dame, I know very well that humorous habit of yoursof never remaining long in one nest. You deal with your sweethearts on asort of give-and-take system. You are here to-day and off to-morrow.Supposing now, that in the exercise of my marital authority, I were toinflict an edifying chastisement upon you for your flightiness, youmight easily take it into your head to bolt, and there should I be leftin the lurch for the finger of scorn to point at. A Calvinistschoolmaster cannot submit to the fate of an ordinary man. If my wifewere to leave me, I should be expelled from the Church with contumely.Then I should have to flee. I should be as good as excluded from humansociety. Now, I am very well satisfied with my present condition. I havea fixed salary of six hundred florins in good hard cash, and myperquisites amount to about as much again. I live honourably, you see,and I cannot afford to stake everything on a throw of the dice.'

  "Then I talked big also.

  "'Listen to me!' I said. 'I have capital sufficient to bring me in asmuch as your yearly income--that is to say, twenty-five thousandflorins. I will make over the whole amount to you by way of a dower, andI am ready to forfeit it all in case I am unfaithful to you.'"

  "And didn't your Esaias capitulate even then?" I inquired of Bessy.

  "He asked for three days to think about it. I immediately hastened toyou to signify my desire that your guardianship might cease."

  "Then Esaias has still two days' grace," I said. "I hope and trust hemay be inwardly illuminated to say no!"

  "Then you do not approve of my determination?"

  "I am a friend of truth, and I understand a little about prophecy too.It doesn't matter to me if you surrender all your capital as a sort ofshrift-money, and your house as well."

  "Such a man as he is worthy of it."

  "I'll take your word for it. You are something of an expert in suchmatters! But one thing I strongly advise you to do: keep the gardenattached to the house at your own disposition."

  "Why?"

  "That you may have it planted full of cherry-trees. I know the naturalhistory of the Calvinist-schoolmaster species. I know that what once hehas promised he always performs. I also know the natural history of thelady with the eyes like the sea, and it is my belief that you willfrequently give occasion for the employment of cherry-tree stems."

  At this the fair lady sprang from her chair, boiling over with rage.

  "What a gross monster it is! Poet indeed! A pedantic lout is what I callyou! They've done very well to lock you up. This is the last time thatwe shall ever talk to each other."

  And with that she went, or rather flounced, away.

  But I gave a great sigh of relief.

  "May she keep her word, and never, never come back again!" I said.

  * * * * *

  One of the first things I saw, on my release from prison, was theannouncement in the newspapers of the solemnization of the marriage. Thebank also informed me by letter that the amount there standing to thecredit of my ward had been transferred to her husband's name.

  Well, at last Bessy had got the _ne plus ultra_ of husbands. For,really, the man who has reached his two-and-thirtieth year withoutsinning against the canonical prescriptions must indeed be a superlativetreasure in the eyes of a lady who knows how to appreciate the value ofsuch renunciation.