by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER XLII
THE FEAST OF MASINKA
The Assumption of the Virgin Mary is, according to the Russian calendar,at the end of August, thus twelve days later than according to theastronomical calendar. By this we see that the Czar of Russia has powerto command even the sun. As, according to the Russian calendar, everyfour hundredth year is short of three days, in the course of twentythousand years it will be summer in the winter quarter, and winter inthe summer quarter, in Russia. The Czar can even effect this.
However, now it is the beginning of autumn, the best time of all theyear in St. Petersburg. The days are shorter and not so hot; the nightsare moonlight; and, one-third of Russian women being named Mary, thereis a festive tone in all houses; and at night, when fireworks begin,there are more stars to be seen on the earth than in the sky.
Korynthia, too, was a Mary; hence had every right to celebrate the day.
The summer palace of Prince Ghedimin on the island of the Neva rivalledin magnificence the Imperial Winter Palace in St. Petersburg. Theballroom was large enough to hold a thousand people.
Among those invited were the Czar and Czarina, the Grand Dukes and GrandDuchesses, their relatives then staying at the Russian court, the Czar'sbrother, the Grand Duke and Duchess of Weimar, the Prince and Princessof Orange. All combined to add brilliancy to Prince Ghedimin's ball. Andyet Maria Alexievna Korynthia was far more anxious to know if Zeneidaand Bethsaba were coming than about any other of her guests.
Fraeulein Ilmarinen and Frau Pushkin had certainly written in mostcourteous and gushing terms the day before, stating that they would bethere. Russian women, by-the-way, surpass even French women in the artof writing flowery notes--especially if they hate each other. But everyone knows the value of such promises. No one can write the day before,"I shall be having a headache to-morrow," but an hour before the ballany one can send a note of excuse by the footman, "I am in despair atbeing unable to come. I have such a violent headache." Of such excuseswomen possess a perfect arsenal.
To the Princess's great content, however, instead of the expected letterof excuse, both ladies put in an appearance; and in good time, beforethe dance music had begun, it being etiquette to arrive before theimperial guests. Zeneida always knew what was the right thing to do.
Fraeulein Ilmarinen was wearing for the first time that evening the orderconferred upon her by the Czar; Bethsaba, the ball-dress sent her by hergodmother. She was strikingly lovely; even the close vicinity of Zeneidadid not detract from her charms.
Korynthia, rising, advanced to meet them; first she greeted Bethsaba asthe married woman, then she turned to Zeneida. Zeneida forestalled hergreeting.
"You forestall me!" exclaimed the Princess. "Of course, _queens_ evergive the first greeting."
"Not so, Princess; but they who desire to offer their congratulations ontheir hostess's name-day."
And the two ladies shook hands. They knew that every eye was upon them,wondering how they would meet.
Both were well-seasoned warriors.
The ballroom was so arranged that all about were small groves ofexotics, with openings just large enough for a couple to retreat into,and talk scandal or flirt, as the case might be. Little tables werethere placed, and footmen went in and out handing refreshments.
Korynthia drew Zeneida into one of these floral retreats, and, as theysat down together, whispered laughingly into her ear:
"You understood me. I expected no less from your clever intellect."
Zeneida, adopting her tone, replied in equally laughing voice.
"That I have brought you the dove out of her nest?"
"Just so--that we have thus become allies?" resumed the Princess.
"An alliance _ad hoc_, in the language of diplomacy," interpretedFraeulein Ilmarinen.
"For the object of discomfiting a third adversary," filled in Korynthia.
"And meanwhile England and Russia have signed defensive and offensivealliance--"
"In order, as allied powers, to conquer Paris," laughed Korynthia.
"The same Paris who keeps the golden apple, in order to give itto--whom?" exclaimed Zeneida, with a peal of silvery laughter.
"You are a demoniacal woman!"
"That I know. Your Highness has said it already."
"How you remember everything! But, to change the subject, three of youradmirers are here to-night. We will soon settle the third of them. See,your little _protegee_ is already absorbed. Her former admirer,Chevalier Galban, has caught her like a spider in his web. Do not beuneasy about her; she will not go back heart-whole. We will see to that.We understand one another!"
"Perfectly, Princess."
"No harm to her! All loss is gain to her, but I do not think it will beher last conquest. For any one who has _begun_ as has my goddaughter, itrequires no great sagacity to prophesy how she will _go on_. No needfor us to grieve about her."
"Nor in such a case can we show any mercy."
"So, for the present, peace is concluded between us! After that, war tothe knife."
"I first pull down my flag."
"Oh, that is only tactics, Fraeulein Ilmarinen. Women never capitulate.That we both know too well. Do you know, I have never had opportunity tosee you so close, though I have been so curious to get a good view ofyou. Tell me, do you dye your hair with saffron to make it such a lovelygold color?"
The golden hue of Zeneida's hair was a natural beauty, but she whisperedconfidentially to the Princess:
"No; saffron has too pungent a smell. I dye my hair with berberis rootsin which purple snails have been steeped."
"And I never could understand how you get that exquisite complexion. Doyou use violet roots?"
Zeneida laughed; the blush which heightened her complexion should havebeen answer enough--could she have told the truth. But she had come hereto lie; therefore answered, in laughing accents:
"Oh, Princess, the preservation of this complexion is a perfect science.I have an old book, published in the times of Poppaea, which contains thereceipt."
"Oh, among other things does that receipt advise laying a slice of beefupon one's face on going to bed?"
"Yes, that and other things. I could send you the book; though, intruth, you do not need it. It would be the Graces clothing Anadyomene."
"Oh, you are as magnanimous an adversary as that French naval captainwho shared his powder with the Englishman and let himself be shot byhim. To that I can only answer as did the Persian king to theArmenians: 'What use is it to send me your sword if therewith you do notsend me your arm also?' Of what use the secret of the cosmetic if you donot make me an adept in that bewitching smile which none may resist?"
"Princess, you are just like Napoleon, who had the art of raising afallen foe."
"This time we are not foes, but allies."
The common foe (Bethsaba) here interrupted the amicable warfare bycoming up to put the naive question if she might dance the firstpolonaise with Chevalier Galban? She was heartily laughed at.
"You may do whatever you like. You are a married woman now."
What is known as a polonaise in the court balls of St. Petersburg is apromenade round the ballroom in short dance step, performed by the wholecompany according to the fancy of the first couple. We are therefore notto understand under that appellation the wild mazurka of former days,when the floor groaned under the stamp of the dancers. That was thedance of a period when every Polish nobleman was as good as the king;this is the dance of a time when every Polish nobleman is equal to--apeasant.
In former times both Czar and Czarina had headed the dance; and ithappened to have been a polonaise in which Alexander had wounded thefeelings of Elisabeth for the sake of the beautiful KorynthiaNarishkin--an insult the former had never forgotten.
The arrivals of the great, greater, and greatest personages put an endto conversation. Once arrived, people formed themselves into a circleand waited for the august couple to make the round of the ballroom,after which the polonaise began.
; Zeneida was presented to all the foreign princes, and received so muchhomage that in its intoxicating atmosphere she might well have lostsight of the one intrusted to her care. She was, however, a triedgeneral in such campaigns, and knew how to keep the whole field wellunder supervision, even to the slightest detail. Attentively her eyesfollow Bethsaba. She sees Chevalier Galban, with languishing expression,whisper in her ear; sees the young wife hasten up to her godmother withglowing cheek; sit down by her and then listen, surprised and startled,betwixt laughter and tears, to what her godmother is saying to her. Sheeven divined what it was that was being said to her. She also saw theCzarina address Bethsaba, and enter into conversation with her withgracious condescension. And she saw, moreover, that these thousandguests here assembled to discourse sweet nothings, to jest, to trifleaway the hours with orgeat, sorbet, and punch, were often the bitterestenemies, full of deadly hatred, ready at the first opportunity to givevent to their true feelings; that the men in their uniforms, stiff withgold lace, their breasts liberally sown with orders, who, hat under arm,bowed low to the Czar or to each other, were thinking, "To-day orto-morrow either you or I will be giving each other a 'How d'ye do?'with our heads, instead of our hats, under our arm"; that she, thesinger, had but to say, "I am singing for the benefit of the Orphanage,"and in an instant every sword would be out of its scabbard, and the mennow dancing _vis-a-vis_ to each other would be running their swordsthrough each other's bodies, and the crowned chairs on the dais beoverturned, no one asking themselves, "Who is sitting on those chairs?"or, worse still, that same dais be turned into a scaffold. Conspiratorsand oppressors, murderers and executioners, all assembled in oneballroom; every one knowing who everybody is so well that when themaster of ceremonies, in mistake, called out, "_Coup de main!_" insteadof "_Tour de main!_" there was a shout of laughter. Only the Czar asked,"Why are the gentlemen so merry?"
All this Zeneida saw. The secret of every man there lay in her hands.Ah, she saw, too, very well, what motive the gracious lady of the househad in giving this brilliant entertainment. In order to seduce a youngwife from her truth? Oh no! But in order to discover the key to a secretwhich he to whom it was intrusted had not divulged to any one--not evento his well-beloved wife.
* * * * *
With the departure of the court from the ballroom the whole assemblage,as etiquette dictated, at once broke up. No one, moreover, was inclinedto stay for the sake of enjoyment on that occasion.
Zeneida, taking Bethsaba under her protecting wings, went off with herto Kreskowsky Island. In the gondola the young wife was very silent, andZeneida purposely abstained from asking her how she had enjoyed herself.Even after the two women had divested themselves of their ball-dressesBethsaba remained dreamy and melancholy. The chill of the river made hottea a necessity before going to bed--in the paradise reclaimed from themarshes lurked ague. When they were alone together, wrapped in warmdressing-gowns and drinking their steaming tea, Bethsaba broke hermelancholy meditations with:
"But tell me then, is this, too, a part of religion?"
"What?"
"That a Christian wife, should another man choose to say to her, 'I amwretched, dying for love of you, I will shoot myself if you remain cruelto me,' be bound to turn her love from her husband, and give it to thatother, that he may not be unhappy--may not be forced to misery andsuicide."
"And they have told you that such is a woman's duty?"
"Yes. And if religion requires that woman's love should resemble that ofSt. Martin, who, when he met a shivering beggar, tore off half hismantle to give it him, I will return to my heathen belief, in which I amnot required to distress myself about the welfare of any one but of myhusband."
"And all this was new to you?"
"I could have cried outright when I heard it. I thought my eyes would beburned out of my head; I felt contaminated at listening to such words.The mere separation from Alexander had already made my heart as heavy asif I were mourning my dead; the very touch of another man's hand in thedance had pained me as if, in taking it, I were killing a dove; when Ilaughed my heart accused me as if I were committing a theft; and withthe laugh came the thought, 'And he has nothing now to cheer him. He issighing for me, he is lonely, while I am merry!' And all the time anevil curiosity was urging me on to hear more, to sound to the verydepths the quagmire from which I was shrinking; and so I feigned tolisten willingly."
"In that you did well."
"It would not have been good manners to run away, would it?"
"You would simply have been lost. A woman should never let it be seenthat a man's seductive arts terrify her; a demonstrative repulse makesher at once his prey. I was watching you--you behaved admirably. Yourexpression was that of a woman who does not understand what is beingsaid to her, who takes it all as a joke; and by so doing you led him onto speak still more explicitly."
"That is just what he did. Only think, impertinent fellow! He actuallyhad the audacity to tell me that for love of me he had bought an estatebut half a day's distance from Pleskow, where he means to be spendingthe winter and to be visiting us constantly. I was inclined to say, 'Oh,please, do not come!'"
"You did well not to say it; rather you should have replied, 'AlexanderSergievitch will always be glad to see you.'"
"That is what I did say. But then he sighed so deeply: 'Oh, if you willonly tell me one day Alexander Sergievitch is going from hometo-morrow!' I should so have liked to give him a box on the ears forsaying it!"
"But, instead of doing that, with naive, unconscious expression youasked, 'What good would that be? You surely would not be coming to seeme when my husband was not at home? All the world would know of it.' Towhich he made reply, 'You are right. But you could come to my castle.'"
"How _do_ you know that?"
"From what you have told me and from what I saw. It was then that youfelt inclined to cry."
"He said still more. 'You would have an excellent excuse to leave homewhile Alexander Sergievitch is away. Your mother, the Queen ofCircassia, is in St. Ann's Convent in Novgorod. You would only have tosay, "I am going to my mother, who has not seen me since I was a child,to tell her of my marriage, and ask her blessing upon it."' So even mypoor mother he dragged into this infamy!"
"And upon that, leaving him, you took refuge with your godmother?"
"Did you notice that, too?"
"In doing so you had gone to the right place, and could tell all yourtroubles to sympathetic ears."
"Oh, if only you had heard what she did say!"
"I saw."
"How saw?"
"By your face. Every word of hers was reflected on your face. Did shenot say, 'Poor Galban! If only you knew how much he has suffered on youraccount! He has actually been on the point of making away with himself.Then he wanted to bury himself in the catacombs of Solowetshk. It wouldbut be giving a copper to a starving man out of your wealth. It shouldbe kept secret; no one should know. It is the way all we women act;there is not a single exception among us. Besides, it is only payingback in the same coin. Every one of us is deceived by our husbands; youand I, and all of us. At the moment that Galban made his confession toyou, you may take it for granted that Pushkin was vowing his love tosome other woman, who would not be so scrupulous as you.'"
"So he really did say; and yet more. This man--whose name my lips cannever more utter--is capable, for sake of me, of exiling himself fromSt. Petersburg, of renouncing his brilliant position, merely that he maylive near me! He is capable, in his despair, of killing Alexander, me,himself, if I torture him longer. Oh, how he has terrified me! As soonas I get home I will tell it all to Alexander, and, taking his hand inmine, will implore him to run away to the other end of the earth withme."
"By so doing you would attain just the contrary to what you desire. Justthis: that Pushkin would be aroused, and, not having been concededpermission to return to St. Petersburg, would challenge Galban to go tohim, and their duel would end fatally. Do not be afraid of him! Fighthim yourse
lf!"
"I? I fight him? Galban? I, a weak, foolish, cowardly little creature,who tremble at every word he utters?"
"You tremble and are fearful because you believe your heart in danger.But how if you knew that the net is not thrown out to catch your heart,but Pushkin's head--that it is his life against which every mesh hasbeen woven? Then you would not be a coward."
"What do you say?--that it is against Alexander's life their plots aredirected?"
"Silence! Question no further! When we have retired to bed, when we arequite alone, and there is no ear to overhear us, I will tell you all,and will teach you what you have to do. And now put your hair incurl-papers. The day after to-morrow we have to attend the grandfarewell ball at Peterhof. There you may tremble; there show what aweak, innocent, timid little wife is capable of when her husband's lifeis at stake!"
"If that be so I will not be afraid; I will be bold and sly as a cat! Ihave not the courage of myself to pin a butterfly, but the man whothreatens my Alexander I could pierce to the heart. Mashallah! _I am thedaughter of my mother!_"
Zeneida then instructed Bethsaba in a part which she played toperfection to the end. At present, however, we may not divulge the plotof the play.
The link had been successfully forged into the chain. At the brilliantfarewell ball given by the Czar to his royal guests at Peterhof, theRussian Versailles, Bethsaba had the honor conferred on her of beingpresented to the Czarina. The Czar had long known her as Sophie'splayfellow. It was he who led the Georgian princess to tell the Czarinaof the land of her birth. Bethsaba, the little Scheherezade, halfclosing her eyes that she might not see those around her, began to tellof the land where winter is unknown. Who could fail to be eloquent whenspeaking of his native land? Of sky clear as crystal, of air aromaticwith balsamic fragrance, of woods where the leaves of the trees neitherwither nor fall, of rivers which never freeze, of fields always gay withflowers, of the mighty ice-covered mountains which shut in the laughingvalleys; and where vital power and buoyancy are diffused in grass,trees, water, and air, and the dwellers in that sunny clime know neithersickness nor decay?
That to which all the most learned doctors in the world had beenpowerless to persuade the Czarina--the change to another climate--wasbrought about by the enchanted chatter of simple, childlike lips.
Taking her husband's hand, the Czarina uttered:
"I should like to see that sunny land."
Those words, "I should like," are often more powerful than any mere wordof command.
Courtiers and conspirators, who at this dazzling entertainment hadgrouped themselves about the superb fountains of the Sampson Springs,had not the slightest conception that in the course of a short tenminutes one delicate woman, with her rosy, childlike lips would effectsuch a complete revolution--that one peal of silvery laughter wouldblow to the winds their cannon, their army, their plan of campaign. Thefairy tale of the Circassian king's daughter had this pre-eminence overall other fairy wonders, that it extinguished the impending outbreak ofa volcano by a drop of water.
This drop of water had shone in the Czarina's eyes when she said:
"I should so like to go there! There I should get well again!"
* * * * *
That same evening Chevalier Galban met Bethsaba again. She was afraid ofhim no longer; she had learned from Zeneida how it beseemed her mother'sdaughter to act.
At the close of the ball the Princess and Zeneida met in the vestibule.They were waiting for their carriages. From Peterhof to St. Petersburgpeople go by road.
The Princess accosted Zeneida with:
"It is settled. I thank you for your co-operation."
(Bethsaba was under the escort of Chevalier Galban.)
"We are quits now."
"The little goose has confessed all. She has gone thoroughly astray. Sheeven acknowledged that you had helped her on."
"The chatterbox!"
"I fancy that she will be making somebody very, very unhappy."
"So do I."
"Then the fight between us can begin afresh."
"I think not. I renounce any claim to console the unhappy."
"Oh, you do not want to make me believe that you are acting withoutpersonal feeling."
"Certainly not. But what will result from this evening's work will be amonster needing two mothers. The one revenge; the other love."
"And you choose revenge?"
"I give you the second, Princess."
"I have not yet forgotten the diplomatic saying that two only make acompact together in order that one may deceive the other."
Meanwhile Prince Ghedimin had come up to conduct his wife to hercarriage. Seeing Zeneida, he started.
"Do just see," exclaimed the Princess, in an affected tone, "howlow-spirited he is! He has grown quite melancholy. For days together Icannot drive him from my side; he will not stir from me. If only he hadsomething to talk about! But all he can do is to knit his brows andruminate. I do beg of you, Fraeulein Ilmarinen, in consideration of ouralliance, to do me a favor. You are a perfect enchantress--just say oneword to him. I am convinced it will cheer him."
"Do you really desire it?"
The look Prince Ghedimin cast upon Zeneida expressed both fear anduneasiness. He was "the chosen dictator." If Zeneida uttered the words"I sing," he must forthwith draw his sword out of its scabbard,exclaiming "I fight!"
Zeneida attempted the magician's feat of curing the Prince's melancholywith one word.
"The summer has quite left us, Prince, has it not? Winter is upon us."
A sufficiently commonplace remark! Imagine talking about the weather!
Prince Ghedimin acquiesced.
"And I fear we shall have a very unpleasant winter if we 'too' do not goto the Crimea or the Caucasus to luxuriate in a second summer."
A very ordinary speech! But that little word "too" had electrified thePrince. He seemed a changed man. His face brightened, his figure grewelastic; surely a miracle had happened to him!
"Come, my love," he said to the Princess, and, to her amazement, beganhumming an air from the overture of the _Czarenwalzers_ as they wentdown the stairs.
That woman is surely the devil in person! She says the most commonplacenothings, and, doing so, brings a dead man back to life.
And yet the Princess has carefully weighed every word spoken by Zeneida.Which can have been the magical one? There was none. The little word"too" had escaped her attention.
And it was from that one word that the Prince knew that the Czarinawould go to the Crimea, and with her the Czar. His breast was relievedof a heavy load.
Chevalier Galban escorted the ladies to their carriage, and Bethsaba,leaning out of the carriage-window, looked back at him.
"I have caught her!" thought Chevalier Galban to himself.