by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER XXIX
MADAME POTIPHAR
At the appointed hour Pushkin presented himself at Villa Ghedimin, andwas passed on from one footman to another, until he finally arrived atKorynthia's boudoir.
The Princess was a handsome woman; but to-day she wanted to surpassherself. The feminine fashions of that day were very becoming. Thepale-golden silk, fine as any from the loom, thrown lightly about herhead, enhanced the gold of her waving hair, arranged in a classic coil,and threw up her complexion; as did the soft Brussels lace the whitenessof her neck and arms. Her shoulder-straps even were set with yellowdiamonds, and, coquettishly placed between the lace, a pale yellowtea-rose diffused its delicate perfume. Her whole being betrayed anagitation unusual to her. She blushed and smiled as Pushkin entered. Andboth blushes and smiles repeated themselves during the greeting andexchange of customary courtesies. Then she signed him to a chair, whileshe seated herself upon a silken divan opposite to him, and opened theconversation.
"I have shed as many tears over your lovely poem as though I had beenmyself to the Baktshisseraj Well of Tears."
"I am rejoiced that the heroine of my lay should have won yoursympathy, Princess. For in her I impersonated my betrothed, SophieNarishkin."
Oh, what a change passed over her face!
Her cheeks aflame with anger, her eyebrows arched like bows, her eyesshooting out arrows of fire.
"You desire to marry Sophie Narishkin?" she cried, passionately."Impossible!"
"I think it, on the contrary, very possible, seeing that our wedding isalready fixed for the 21st of June."
"In a week? Has the betrothal been already announced, then?"
"No! A dispensation has been granted for our marriage."
Springing from her divan, the Princess gasped:
"Impossible! Impossible!"
Pushkin retained his seat. He was not easily frightened by any man--orwoman either. So he answered, calmly:
"But, my dear Princess, what objection can you have to it?"
Korynthia saw that she had suffered her impetuosity to carry her toofar. So, commanding herself, she resumed her seat and made as if fanningherself from the heat.
"He who advised you to this was no friend of yours!" she hissed out.
"It was the Czar!"
Korynthia, shutting her fan, put it to her lips. After a short silenceshe said:
"You know, then, that the Czar is Sophie's father?"
"I have divined it."
"And have you also divined the future which awaits you in marrying adaughter of the Czar? You will be banished from the society in which youhave hitherto lived; the circles into which you will try to forceyourself will hold you in contempt. As long as the Czar lives you willbe a prisoner in the glittering cage of the court, deprived offree-will; an unhappy man, born to enlighten others, condemned to be theshadow of a man! At the death of the Czar you may be appointed to agovernorship in the Caucasus or on the Amur."
"Princess! I shall neither become a prisoner at court nor governor ofKamchatka. My wife will accompany me to my little estate of Pleskow,where I mean to be sometime farmer, sometime poet."
"You do not love the girl. Vanity alone has led you to this step."
Pushkin never took a blow unrequited--even from a woman.
"Princess, did you know her you would know that it were impossible notto love her!"
The Princess bit her lips until they bled. It was a cruel thrust.Quickly upon it followed a second.
"Sophie has only inherited her father's sweetness of disposition;nothing of her mother."
The Princess rose. She could bear it no longer. Her face was deathlypale, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. Going up to Pushkin, sheseized his hand as she whispered:
"Has the Czar also confided to you the name of Sophie's mother?"
"Never!"
"Have you heard it from any one else?"
"From no one who had a right to know it."
"Come, then, sit down by me," gasped the Princess, convulsivelyclutching Pushkin's arm, and drawing him on to the divan beside her."Listen to me! I will make a confession to you. What I have hithertotold to none but the Patriarch I will confess to you." Sobs choked hervoice; then violently tearing the lace handkerchief with which she haddried her tears, she continued, "Even to my husband I have never daredto say what I now tell to you: _I am Sophie Narishkin's mother!_"
Pushkin, of course, appeared to be intensely surprised at thisdiscovery.
"You be my judge," continued the Princess, as she threw back thegossamer covering from her shoulders. She drew a long breath. "I was buta child, scarce sixteen; my parents dead. I met a man whom all conspiredto worship. The aunt who brought me up was a vain, ambitious woman, andhad made me equally so. Every one about me counselled me to return hislove, telling me that he was unhappy for cause of me. They sought outold records of how Czars who had not loved their wives had sent theminto convents, and had raised others, more beloved, to share theimperial throne. Flattery, ambition, inexperience, youthful fancy,turned my head, and I--fell. Ah, how low I fell! So low that my wholelife since has been one expiation! Still, I never relinquished hope; Iever believed that the man who had wronged me would come one day toraise me from shame to splendor. I implored him; I knelt in the dust athis feet. Then he published the ukase that only the daughters ofreigning families might be raised to the throne of Russia--that was theanswer to my dreams! In the depths of my despair a man in my own rank oflife came and asked my hand. True, he had no love to give me, but hegave me his name; I, too, had no love to give him, but I have borne hisname honorably and spotlessly before the world. And now there suddenlybreaks upon me the dreaded catastrophe which for sixteen long years hasbeen my nightly terror: Sophie Narishkin will marry, and people will beasking, 'But who is this Sophie Narishkin? Who is her father--who is hermother?"
"You may make yourself at ease on that score, Princess. The wedding willbe conducted in all privacy by the Patriarch of Solowetshk in the Chapelof Peter the Great on Petrovsky Island. After the wedding not a soulwill see the young couple in St. Petersburg, or speak about them."
This consolation was poison to the heart of the Princess. Would she seePushkin no more, then?
"But why this feverish haste? The girl is but a child, scarce sixteenyears old!"
"Princess," returned Pushkin, mournfully, "we do not reckon time byyears, but by the griefs we endure; and by that computation Sophie hasalready lived a long life. Sixteen years of confinement, banishment,unrecognized by any one--sixteen years without knowing a loving word orray of brightness should count for age enough! It is just this dream ofhappiness that is keeping the poor child in life. Sophie is asomnambulist on this earth. To awaken would be to kill her!"
"So it is a spirit of magnanimous self-sacrifice which binds you toher--you are not in love with her?"
"I worship her; am hers forever."
"I see. Permit me to meditate over the subject. This news has taken meso by surprise that I can give you no answer at present. Can thismarriage not be delayed?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"The Czar is going on a journey--it may be a long--very long journey. Hewill shortly hold a great review of the guards, and then start. But ofthis Prince Ghedimin can inform you better than I. At any rate, it isthe Czar's pleasure that our marriage takes place before he leaves."
"Then at least allow me to defer my answer to the last moment. I have somuch to say to you; do give me as long a time as you can. Come again onthe twentieth, and even then not until dusk, so that your coming may notattract attention. In order to enter unperceived--you will readilyunderstand why I should not wish a visit from Sophie's bridegroom, onthe very eve of his wedding-day, to be publicly known--take this key. Itbelongs to the door of the veranda which opens on to the park. Thence,by a spiral staircase, you ascend direct to my apartments. We can thentalk over various matters undisturbed, which you ought to know."
Pushkin put the key intrusted to him i
n his pocket, and, kissing thePrincess's hand, took leave, Korynthia giving him the farewell kiss onhis lips and accompanying him to the door of her room.
From this we glean that the Russian scientist was right in his remarksupon "degenerated cats"--at least, as far as this woman is concerned.