Ever since his arrival, all in the house had felt that the time had flown by with unusual rapidity; everything had gone off beautifully. Papa Ozhogin, though he pretended that he noticed nothing, was doubtless rubbing his hands in private at the idea of such a son - in - law. The prince, for his part, managed matters with the utmost sobriety and discretion, when, all of a sudden, an unexpected incident . . .
Till to - morrow. To - day I’m tired. These recollections irritate me even at the edge of the grave. Terentyevna noticed to - day that my nose has already begun to grow sharp; and that, they say, is a bad sign.
March 27.
Thaw continuing.
Things were in the position described above: the prince and Liza were in love with each other; the old Ozhogins were waiting to see what would come of it; Bizmyonkov was present at the proceedings - - there was nothing else to be said of him. I was struggling like a fish on the ice, and watching with all my might, - - I remember that at that time I set myself the task of preventing Liza at least from falling into the snares of a seducer, and consequently began paying particular attention to the maidservants and the fateful ‘back stairs’ - - though, on the other hand, I often spent whole nights in dreaming with what touching magnanimity I would one day hold out a hand to the betrayed victim and say to her, ‘The traitor has deceived thee; but I am thy true friend . . . let us forget the past and be happy!’ - - when sudden and glad tidings overspread the whole town. The marshal of the district proposed to give a great ball in honour of their respected guest, on his private estate Gornostaevka. All the official world, big and little, of the town of O - - - - received invitations, from the mayor down to the apothecary, an excessively emaciated German, with ferocious pretensions to a good Russian accent, which led him into continually and quite inappropriately employing racy colloquialisms, . . . Tremendous preparations were, of course, put in hand. One purveyor of cosmetics sold sixteen dark - blue jars of pomatum, which bore the inscription a` la jesmin. The young ladies provided themselves with tight dresses, agonising in the waist and jutting out sharply over the stomach; the mammas put formidable erections on their heads by way of caps; the busy papas were half dead with the bustle. The longed - for day arrived at last. I was among those invited. From the town to Gornostaevka was reckoned between seven and eight miles. Kirilla Matveitch offered me a seat in his coach; but I refused. . . In the same way children, who have been punished, wishing to pay their parents out, refuse their favourite dainties at table. Besides, I felt that my presence would be felt as a constraint by Liza. Bizmyonkov took my place. The prince drove in his own carriage, and I in a wretched little droshky, hired for an immense sum for this solemn occasion. I am not going to describe that ball. Everything about it was just as it always is. There was a band, with trumpets extraordinarily out of tune, in the gallery; there were country gentlemen, greatly flustered, with their inevitable families, mauve ices, viscous lemonade; servants in boots trodden down at heel and knitted cotton gloves; provincial lions with spasmodically contorted faces, and so on and so on. And all this little world was revolving round its sunÄround the prince. Lost in the crowd, unnoticed even by the young ladies of eight - and - forty, with red pimples on their brows and blue flowers on the top of their heads, I stared incessantly, first at the prince, then at Liza. She was very charmingly dressed and very pretty that evening. They only twice danced together (it is true, he danced the mazurka with her); but it seemed, to me at least, that there was a sort of secret, continuous communication between them. Even while not looking at her, while not speaking to her, he was still, as it were, addressing her, and her alone. He was handsome and brilliant and charming with other people - - for her sake only. She was apparently conscious that she was the queen of the ball, and that she was loved. Her face at once beamed with childlike delight and innocent pride, and was suddenly illuminated by another, deeper feeling. Happiness radiated from her. I observed all this. . . . It was not the first time I had watched them. . . . At first this wounded me intensely; afterwards it, as it were, touched me; but, finally, it infuriated me. I suddenly felt extraordinarily wrathful, and, I remember, was extraordinarily delighted at this new sensation, and even conceived a certain respect for myself. ‘We’ll show them we’re not crushed yet,’ I said to myself. When the first inviting notes of the mazurka sounded, I looked about me with composure, and with a cool and easy air approached a long - faced young lady with a red and shiny nose, a mouth that stood awkwardly open, as though it had come unbuttoned, and a scraggy neck that recalled the handle of a bass - viol. I went up to her, and, with a perfunctory scrape of my heels, invited her to the dance. She was wearing a dress of faded rosebud pink, not full - blown rose colour; on her head quivered a striped and dejected beetle of some sort on a thick bronze pin; and altogether this lady was, if one may so express it, soaked through and through with a sort of sour ennui and inveterate lack of success. From the very commencement of the evening she had not once stirred from her seat; no one had thought of asking her to dance. One flaxen - headed youth of sixteen had, through lack of a partner, been on the point of addressing this lady, and had taken a step in her direction, but had thought better of it, stared at her, and hurriedly dived into the crowd. You can fancy with what joyful amazement she agreed to my proposal! I led her in triumph right across the ballroom, picked out two chairs, and sat down with her in the ring of the mazurka, among ten couples, almost opposite the prince, who had, of course, been offered the first place. The prince, as I have said already, was dancing with Liza. Neither I nor my partner was disturbed by invitations; consequently, we had plenty of time for conversation. To tell the truth, my partner was not conspicuous for her capacity for the utterance of words in consecutive speech; she used her mouth principally for the achievement of a strange downward smile such as I had never till then beheld ; while she raised her eyes upward, as though some unseen force were pulling her face in two. But I did not feel her lack of eloquence. Happily I felt full of wrath, and my partner did not make me shy. I fell to finding fault with everything and every one in the world, with especial emphasis on town - bred youngsters and Petersburg dandies; and went to such lengths at last, that my partner gradually ceased smiling, and instead of turning her eyes upward, began suddenly - - from astonishment, I suppose - - to squint, and that so strangely, as though she had for the first time observed the fact that she had a nose on her face. And one of the lions, referred to above, who was sitting next me, did not once take his eyes off me; he positively turned to me with the expression of an actor on the stage, who has waked up in an unfamiliar place, as though he would say, ‘Is it really you!’ While I poured forth this tirade, I still, however, kept watch on the prince and Liza. They were continually invited; but I suffered less when they were both dancing; and even when they were sitting side by side, and smiling as they talked to each other that sweet smile which hardly leaves the faces of happy lovers, even then I was not in such torture; but when Liza flitted across the room with some desperate dandy of an hussar, while the prince with her blue gauze scarf on his knees followed her dreamily with his eyes, as though delighting in his conquest; - - then, oh! then, I went through intolerable agonies, and in my anger gave vent to such spiteful observations, that the pupils of my partner’s eyes simply fastened on her nose! Meanwhile the mazurka was drawing to a close. They were beginning the figure called la confidente. In this figure the lady sits in the middle of a circle, chooses another lady as her confidant, and whispers in her ear the name of the gentleman with whom she wishes to dance. Her partner conducts one after another of the dancers to her; but the lady, who is in the secret, refuses them, till at last the happy man fixed on beforehand arrives. Liza sat in the middle of the circle and chose the daughter of the host, one of those young ladies of whom one says, ‘God help them!’ . . . The prince proceeded to discover her choice. After presenting about a dozen young men to her in vain (the daughter of the house refused them all with the most amiable of smiles), he at last turned to
me. Something extraordinary took place within me at that instant; I, as it were, twitched all over, and would have refused, but got up and went along. The prince conducted me to Liza, . . . She did not even look at me; the daughter of the house shook her head in refusal, the prince turned to me, and, probably incited by the goose - like expression of my face, made me a deep bow. This sarcastic bow, this refusal, transmitted to me through my triumphant rival, his careless smile, Liza’s indifferent inattention, all this lashed me to frenzy. . . . I moved up to the prince and whispered furiously, ‘You think fit to laugh at me, it seems?’
The prince looked at me with contemptuous surprise, took my arm again, and making a show of re - conducting me to my seat, answered coldly, ‘I?’
‘Yes, you!’ I went on in a whisper, obeying, however - - that is to say, following him to my place; ‘you; but I do not intend to permit any empty - headed Petersburg upstart - - ‘
The prince smiled tranquilly, almost condescendingly, pressed my arm, whispered, ‘I understand you; but this is not the place; we will have a word later,’ turned away from me, went up to Bizmyonkov, and led him up to Liza. The pale little official turned out to be the chosen partner. Liza got up to meet him.
Sitting beside my partner with the dejected beetle on her head, I felt almost a hero. My heart beat violently, my breast heaved gallantly under my starched shirt front, I drew deep and hurried breaths, and suddenly gave the local lion near me such a magnificent glare that there was an involuntary quiver of his foot in my direction. Having disposed of this person, I scanned the whole circle of dancers. . . . I fancied two or three gentlemen were staring at me with some perplexity; but, in general, my conversation with the prince had passed unnoticed. . . . My rival was already back in his chair, perfectly composed, and with the same smile on his face. Bizmyonkov led Liza back to her place. She gave him a friendly bow, and at once turned to the prince, as I fancied, with some alarm. But he laughed in response, with a graceful wave of his hand, and must have said something very agreeable to her, for she flushed with delight, dropped her eyes, and then bent them with affectionate reproach upon him.
The heroic frame of mind, which had suddenly developed in me, had not disappeared by the end of the mazurka; but I did not indulge in any more epigrams or ‘quizzing.’ I contented myself with glancing occasionally with gloomy severity at my partner, who was obviously beginning to be afraid of me, and was utterly tongue - tied and continuously blinking by the time I placed her under the protection of her mother, a very fat woman with a red cap on her head. Having consigned the scared maiden lady to her natural belongings, I turned away to a window, folded my arms, and began to await what would happen. I had rather long to wait. The prince was the whole time surrounded by his host - - surrounded, simply, as England is surrounded by the sea, - - to say nothing of the other members of the marshal’s family and the rest of the guests. And besides, he could hardly go up to such an insignificant person as me and begin to talk without arousing a general feeling of surprise. This insignificance, I remember, was positively a joy to me at the time. ‘All right,’ I thought, as I watched him courteously addressing first one and then another highly respected personage, honoured by his notice, if only for an ‘instant’s flash,’ as the poets say; - - ‘all right, my dear . . . you’ll come to me soon - - I’ve insulted you, anyway.’ At last the prince, adroitly escaping from the throng of his adorers, passed close by me, looked somewhere between the window and my hair, was turning away, and suddenly stood still, as though he had recollected something. ‘Ah, yes!’ he said, turning to me with a smile, ‘by the way, I have a little matter to talk to you about.’
Two country gentlemen, of the most persistent, who were obstinately pursuing the prince, probably imagined the ‘little matter’ to relate to official business, and respectfully fell back. The prince took my arm and led me apart. My heart was thumping at my ribs.
‘You, I believe,’ he began, emphasising the word you, and looking at my chin with a contemptuous expression, which, strange to say, was supremely becoming to his fresh and handsome face, ‘you said something abusive to me?’
‘I said what I thought,’ I replied, raising my voice.
‘Sh . . . quietly,’ he observed; ‘decent people don’t bawl. You would like, perhaps, to fight me?’
‘That’s your affair,’ I answered, drawing myself up.
‘I shall be obliged to challenge you,’ he remarked carelessly, ‘if you don’t withdraw your expressions, . . .’
‘I do not intend to withdraw from anything,’ I rejoined with pride.
‘Really?’ he observed, with an ironical smile. ‘In that case,’ he continued, after a brief pause, ‘I shall have the honour of sending my second to you to - morrow.’
‘Very good,’ I said in a voice, if possible, even more indifferent.
The prince gave a slight bow.
‘I cannot prevent you from considering me empty - headed,’ he added, with a haughty droop of his eyelids; ‘but the Princes N - - - - cannot be upstarts. Good - bye till we meet, Mr, . . . Mr. Shtukaturin.’
He quickly turned his back on me, and again approached his host, who was already beginning to get excited.
Mr. Shtukaturin! . . . My name is Tchulkaturin, . . . I could think of nothing to say to him in reply to this last insult, and could only gaze after him with fury. ‘Till to - morrow,’ I muttered, clenching my teeth, and I at once looked for an officer of my acquaintance, a cavalry captain in the Uhlans, called Koloberdyaev, a desperate rake, and a very good fellow. To him I related, in few words, my quarrel with the prince, and asked him to be my second. He, of course, promptly consented, and I went home.
I could not sleep all night - - from excitement, not from cowardice. I am not a coward. I positively thought very little of the possibility confronting me of losing my life - - that, as the Germans assure us, highest good on earth. I could think only of Liza, of my ruined hopes, of what I ought to do. ‘Ought I to try to kill the prince?’ I asked myself; and, of course, I wanted to kill himÄnot from revenge, but from a desire for Liza’s good. ‘But she will not survive such a blow,’ I went on. ‘No, better let him kill me!’ I must own it was an agreeable reflection, too, that I, an obscure provincial person, had forced a man of such consequence to fight a duel with me.
The morning light found me still absorbed in these reflections; and, not long after it, appeared Koloberdyaev.
‘Well,’ he asked me, entering my room with a clatter, ‘where’s the prince’s second?’
‘Upon my word,’ I answered with annoyance, ‘it ‘s seven o’clock at the most; the prince is still asleep, I should imagine.’ ‘In that case,’ replied the cavalry officer, in nowise daunted, ‘order some tea for me. My head aches from yesterday evening, . . . I’ve not taken my clothes off all night. Though, indeed,’ he added with a yawn, ‘I don’t as a rule often take my clothes off.’
Some tea was given him. He drank off six glasses of tea and rum, smoked four pipes, told me he had on the previous day bought, for next to nothing, a horse the coachman refused to drive, and that he was meaning to drive her out with one of her fore legs tied up, and fell asleep, without undressing, on the sofa, with a pipe in his mouth. I got up and put my papers to rights. One note of invitation from Liza, the one note I had received from her, was on the point of putting in my bosom, but on second thoughts I flung it in a drawer. Koloberdyaev was snoring feebly, with his head hanging from the leather pillow, . . . For a long while, I remember, I scrutinised his unkempt, daring, careless, and good - natured face. At ten o’clock the man announced the arrival of Bizmyonkov. The prince had chosen him as second.
We both together roused the soundly sleeping cavalry officer. He sat up, stared at us with dim eyes, in a hoarse voice demanded vodka. He recovered himself, and exchanging greetings with Bizmyonkov, he went with him into the next room to arrange matters. The consultation of the worthy seconds did not last long. A quarter of an hour later, they both came into my bedroom. Kolo
berdyaev announced to me that ‘we’re going to fight to - day at three o’clock with pistols.’ In silence I bent my head, in token of my agreement Bizmyonkov at once took leave of us, and departed. He was rather pale and inwardly agitated, like a man unused to such jobs, but he was, nevertheless, very polite and chilly. I felt, as it were, conscience - stricken in his presence, and did not dare look him in the face. Koloberdyaev began telling me about his horse. This conversation was very welcome to me. I was afraid he would mention Liza. But the good - natured cavalry officer was not a gossip, and, moreover, he despised all women, calling them, God knows why, green stuff. At two o’clock we had lunch, and at three we were at the place fixed upon - - the very birch copse in which I had once walked with Liza, a couple of yards from the precipice.
We arrived first; but the prince and Bizmyonkov did not keep us long waiting. The prince was, without exaggeration, as fresh as a rose; his brown eyes looked out with excessive cordiality from under the peak of his cap. He was smoking a cigar, and on seeing Koloberdyaev shook his hand in a friendly way. Even to me he bowed very genially. I was conscious, on the contrary, of being pale, and my hands, to my terrible vexation, were slightly trembling . . . my throat was parched. . . . I had never fought a duel before. ‘O God!’ I thought; ‘if only that ironical gentleman doesn’t take my agitation for timidity!’ I was inwardly cursing my nerves; but glancing, at last, straight in the prince’s face, and catching on his lips an almost imperceptible smile, I suddenly felt furious again, and was at once at my ease. Meanwhile, our seconds were fixing the barrier, measuring out the paces, loading the pistols. Koloberdyaev did most; Bizmyonkov rather watched him. It was a magnificent day - - as fine as the day of that ever - memorable walk. The thick blue of the sky peeped, as then, through the golden green of the leaves. Their lisping seemed to mock me. The prince went on smoking his cigar, leaning with his shoulder against the trunk of a young lime - tree, . . .
A Sportsman's Sketches: Works of Ivan Turgenev 1 Page 130