by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER XVIII
KORYNTHIA
The young Circassian Princess could not have been in a better schoolthan that of Princess Ghedimin.
Korynthia might have served as a type to that Russian naturalist who,outdoing Darwin, endeavored to prove that women are degenerate cats. Invain, be it here mentioned, was it sought to soften him so far as tomodify his views into their being a race of ennobled cats. He stuck tohis opinion. The beautiful Korynthia could be coquettish as an Aspasia,stonily cold as a Diana. This time, however, it was not Diana, butAspasia, who changed her lover into Acteon.
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The men whom she thus distinguished with her favors, like ChevalierGalban, never succeeded in unravelling the riddle of the lovely sphinx.Korynthia allowed him to accompany her in hunts, danced with him atballs, gave him her bouquet to hold when dancing with another man,laughed at his sallies, made fun of others with him, even kissed him atparting, the while holding him as far off as a planet itssatellites--and of such satellites she had more than Saturn--each andall permitted to revolve about her, none to approach her too near.
Yet when in society she fixed a man with a stony look of a goddess,acknowledging his bow with the contraction of the lips by which greatladies express, at once, disdain and reproach, he was the man for whomher heart was cherishing secret flames.
No one knew it, for he, thus signalled out, an officer of the guards,distinguished alike for his genius and his many gay adventures, wascareful to keep to himself that one day a perfumed note was brought himby a mysterious messenger, and on opening the delicately tinted envelopehe read: "An unknown benefactress, who is interested in your fate, isready to pay off all your debts if you will stay away at nights fromFraeulein Ilmarinen's Saturnalia."
We think we are not mistaken when we take, in connection with the above,the usurer's speech, who certainly did not volunteer it without goodgrounds: "There are certain young, rich, and lovely ladies in St.Petersburg who are ready to come to the aid of a young officer whom Icould name."
The young Endymion's reply to the perfumed note was that night to enterthe proscribed Eleusis on the box-seat of Zeneida's sledge.
Korynthia's hatred of Zeneida was not on account of her husband, but ofPushkin. Zeneida's position with regard to Prince Ghedimin was onlysuperficial. The devotion of great nobles to prima donnas is merely amatter of fashion, and of cutting two ways. "What is allowed to you isallowed to me!" The things which rankle most in the Princess's mind arethat her rival possesses a finer exotic garden than she does; that shehas finer horses; and that whenever they meet her toilets areunquestionably triumphant. And they are constantly meeting; for her fameas an artiste opens all doors to Zeneida. They meet at brilliant balls;their horses are pitted together on the turf; their carriages are injuxtaposition at reviews; and the Princess is convinced that all thisluxury is derived from her husband's Siberian silver-mines, which enabletheir owner to indulge in the amusement of permitting two women tooutrival each other in the art of squandering. Could she but come outconqueror in the strife, she could forgive the artist her extravagance;but never would she forget that she, a Princess, had had to give in toher even one hair's-breadth. Here was the second ground of her hatred ofZeneida.
There was still a third. The moment of weakness, which in her earlyyouth had made her all his life long an important factor in the life ofthe Czar, was forgotten; had been long buried in oblivion. The Czarinawas the object of universal admiration, sympathy, and worship; and shewas seen to be visibly fading before people's eyes. Public opinion,indeed, became so strong in the matter that it was often a question insecret societies whether there should not be a repetition of whatoccurred in the reign of Peter III. and Catherine II., to make the Czarprisoner and proclaim Elisabeth reigning Czarina. And, withal, PrincessGhedimin knew herself to stand nearer to the Czar's heart than did theCzarina; a silken cord--Sophie Narishkin--held them together. No suchsilken cord of union existed for Elisabeth. Alexander's love for her asa husband had been buried forever in the grave of the last child she hadborne to him. And here, once more, did Korynthia find her detested rivalin her path.
While the Czar avoided her, he lavished the wealth of his favor uponZeneida. The prima donna stood between Czar and Czarina. Both loved andpetted her. They were never together save when Zeneida made a third.When listening to her singing, reading aloud, or the charm of herpleasant talk, the imperial couple would forget their mutualestrangement and draw together; when, on the contrary, the Czarina,appearing at some court festivity leaning on the Czar's arm, would comeface to face with the Princess, their arms would fall abruptly apart,and they would turn away from each other. That she knew right well. And,withal, she must display her favors to those who were indifferent toher, appear haughty and disdainful to those she would fain haveencouraged, seem affectionate to the husband she hated, be humble to theman on whom she had a claim, and play the magnanimous protectress to therival of whom she was jealous. Jealousy is terrible enough when it hasone head; how much more when it has three! The three heads of herjealousy were: passion, pride, and remembrance.
And to her had been intrusted the bringing up of the Circassian king'sdaughter! The Princess began her task by giving her at her christening aname which the world then, and now, can only have condoned for sake ofthe psalmist king, David.
Bethsaba was fortunate in that she united to her inexperience andinnocence a considerable fund of imaginative fancy and thecharacteristic cunning of her people. Moreover, she remembered many asaying of her good mother, whom now she sees but once a year--onNew-year's day, when some forty thousand people assemble to payallegiance to the imperial pair in the great Throne Room. There standsher mother on one of the steps of the throne; but her brow, instead ofwearing a crown, wears furrows. And as often as Bethsaba looks upon herdoes she remember that her mother, to whom she may not speak, exchangedher crown for those furrows, because she stabbed the man who dared tosay to her, "I love you; give me your love in return."
Then she would begin to ponder over what that "love" could be which hadmade it so easy for one to slay and the other to die. At one time itwould seem good and sweet, and one's duty; at another, evil, full ofpain, and, above all, sinful.