Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (455 page)

BOOK: Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)
11.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
 

Olga [after a long silence]: That means, then, that I’m your daughter.” But what proofs have you?

 

Kuzovkin [with some animation]: Proofs? What kind of proofs can I have? I haven’t any proofs. How would I dare? . . . and if it weren’t for yesterday’s misfortune, I am quite sure that I never should have told it, even on my dying bed. I should have torn my tongue out first. And why didn’t I die yesterday? Not a single soul knew or heard of it until yesterday. Being alone, I never even dared think of it. After the death of your father, I wanted to run away as far as my legs could carry me, but I confess that I hadn’t the courage. Poverty scared me. I remained, and I am guilty. But in the presence of your deceased mother I never talked about it, I didn’t even let a breath of it out, Olga Petrovna. Proof! The first months after that I didn’t even see your mother. She shut herself up in her room, and with the exception of Praskovia, she didn’t admit anyone. Then, when I saw her, I swear before the Lord, that I was afraid to look her in the face. Proofs? Olga Petrovna, I am not a criminal, and I’m not a fool — I know my place. If you hadn’t ordered me to tell . . . Don’t get worked up, Olga Petrovna. Why do you bother yourself about it? What proof can I have? Don’t believe me, an old fool. I told a lie and that’s all, for surely, sometimes, I don’t know what I am talking about. My mind is failing. Don’t believe anything, Olga Petrovna — that’s all. What proofs could I have?

 

Olga: No, Vasili Semenych. I’m going to be very truthful in the matter. You couldn’t think up such ... To spread calumny of the dead — no, that’s too awful . . . [She turns away from him.] No, I believe you.

 

Kuzovkin [in a weak voice]: You believe me . . .

 

Olga: Yes . . . [She looks at him and shudders.] But it is terrible, terrible! [Quickly goes to one side.]

 

Kuzovkin [with hands stretched in her direction]: Olga Petrovna, calm yourself ... I understand you . . . You, with your education . . . But I, I repeat, if it weren’t for you, I should tell you that . . . But I know myself very well. Do you really think that I don’t feel all this . . .? I love you as my own . . . For, after all, you are . . . [Quickly gets up.] Don’t be afraid. I’ll never let that word pass my lips . . . Forget our whole conversation. I’ll leave to - day, now. I cannot remain here any longer. I cannot. Well, I’ll pray for you there. [Tears appear in his eyes.] And everywhere, wherever I am, I shall pray for you and your husband. I am myself to blame. I can say that I alone am the cause of denying myself my last happiness. [He weeps.]

 

Olga [with inexpressible nervousness]: What does this all mean? However it was, he’s my father . . . [Turning around and seeing him weeping.] He is weeping . . . Don’t cry, stop! . . . [She goes up to him.]

 

Kuzovkin [stretching his hands out to her]: Forgive me, Olga Petrovna. . . .

 

[Olga stretches her hands toward him undecidedly. She wants to force herself to throw herself upon his neck, but immediately, with a shudder, turns away and runs off to the office. Kuzovkin remains in the same place.]

 

Kuzovkin [pressing his hands to his heart]: My Lord, my Lord! What is the matter with me?

 

[Eletski’s voice from behind the door]: Have you locked yourself in, Olga?

 

Kuzovkin [coming to himself]: Who is that? . . . He . . . Yes ... I wonder what he wants to say? . . .

 

Eletski’s Voice: Tropachev has come to see us.
Je vous l’annonce, Olga! Answer me! . . .
Vasili Semenych, are you there?

 

Kuzovkin: Yes, sir.

 

Eletski’s Voice: And where is Olga Petrovna?

 

Kuzovkin: She went out.

 

Eletski’s Voice: Oh! Open the door for me!

 

[Kuzovkin opens the door and Eletski enters.]

 

Eletski [looking around, to himself]: This looks so strange. [To Kuzovkin, coldly and sternly.] Are you going away?

 

Kuzovkin: Yes, sir.

 

Eletski: Well, how did your conversation end?

 

Kuzovkin: The conversation? . . . The conversation? ... To tell the truth, we didn’t talk at all. Only I asked Olga Petrovna’s forgiveness.

 

Eletski: Well, and what did she do?

 

Kuzovkin: She said that she was no longer angry at me, and I am now getting ready to go away.

 

Eletski: Olga Petrovna consequently did not change my decision?

 

Kuzovkin: No, sir.

 

Eletski: Hm! ...
I am very sorry . . . But you understand, Vasili Semenych that . . . that . . .

 

Kuzovkin: Yes, sir, Pavel Nikolaich.
I fully agree with you. You have acted most charitably towards me. I am extremely obliged to you.

 

Eletski: I am pleased to note that you feel, at least, that’ you are to blame, and so good - bye. ... If you are in need of anything, please don’t stand on ceremony. Although I have given orders to the manager regarding you, nevertheless you can always turn directly to me . . .

 

Kuzovkin: I am extremely obliged to you. [Bows.]

 

Eletski: Good - bye, Vasili Semenych. However, wait a moment. Eh ... eh ... eh . . . Mr. Tropachev has come to see us, and he is coming right in. I wish that you would repeat in his presence that which you told me this morning . . .

 

Kuzovkin: Yes, sir.

 

Eletski: Very well. [To the entering Tropachev.] Mais venez done, venez done!

 

[Tbopachev enters, showing his usual affectation.]

 

Tropachev: Of course I’ll come in. But your billiard table is a most excellent one! Just imagine, Mr. Ivanov refused to play with me! He said, “My head aches.” Mr. Ivanov has a headache! Et madame? I hope she is well.

 

Eletski: She is well, thank the Lord, and she’ll be in presently.

 

Tropachev [with amiable familiarity]: Your arrival is a most fortunate affair for us countrymen. Ha, ha, ha! Une bonne fortune. [He looks around and notices Kuzovkin.] Oh, Lord, and you’re here?

 

[Kuzovkin bows silently.]

 

Eletski [to Tropachev, pointing with his chin to Kuzovkin]: Yes, he has been very much upset to - day after yesterday’s piece of foolishness. He has been begging our pardon since morning.

 

Tropachev: Oh, it’s very apparent that he and drink are not company. What do you say?

 

Kuzovkin [not lifting his eyes]: I am guilty. It was positively senseless — that’s all I can say.

 

Tropachev: Ah, ha! That’s it, owner of Vietrovo. [To Eletski.] Well, a thought like that will come into a fellow’s head . . . After this finally, it is nothing surprising to know that one insane fellow will — well, I don’t know what to say — but let us say will consider himself a Chinese emperor, and that another, as I have heard said, will imagine that he has the sun and the moon and everything you want, right in his stomach. Ha, ha, ha! That’s the way — that’s the way, Mr. Kuzovkin.

 

Eletski [wishing to change the conversation]: Yes. . . . What did I want to ask you about, Flegont Aleksandrych? When shall we go hunting?

 

Tropachev: Whenever you like. . . . You see, I do not stand on ceremony with you. I was here yesterday, and I’m here again to - day. So be the same way with me. Wait a moment, I’m going to ask Karpachov. He knows that better. He will tell us where to go. [Goes up to the door of the reception - room.] Karpachov! Come in, my dear fellow. [To Eletski.] He’s a good shot, though I always win from him in billiards. [Karpachov enters.] Karpachov, Pavel Nikolaich wants to go hunting to - morrow. Where shall we go, huh?

 

Karpachov: Let us go to Koloberdovo, to Vokhriak. There must be a lot of partridges there now.

 

Eletski: And is it far from here?

 

Karpachov: By the high road, thirty versts, but crosscountry, it will be a little less.

 

Eletski: Very well. [Praskovia enters from the office.] What do you want?

 

Praskovia [bowing to Eletski]: Madame would like to 6ee you.

 

Eletski: What for?

 

Praskovia: I cannot tell.

 

Eletski: Tell her that I’ll see her presently. [To Tropachev.] Will you permit me?

 

[Praskovia goes out.]

 

Tropachev [shaking his head]: Oh, Pavel Nikolaich, aren’t you ashamed to ask such a question? Go, for the Lord’s sake!

 

Eletski: I shall not keep you waiting long. [Goes out.]

 

[Kuzovkin, who had been standing all the time near the door of the reception - room, wants to take advantage of this moment and go out.]

 

Tropachev [to Kuzovkin]: Where do you want to go, my dear fellow? Remain here — we’ll have a little chat.

 

Kuzovkin: I must go.

 

Tropachev: Oh, nonsense, you mustn’t. Perhaps you feel a little ashamed. . . . But that’s nonsense, too. Who doesn’t occasionally . . . [Takes him by his arm and brings him to the front of the stage.] That is, wait a minute. What I wanted to say was, Who doesn’t occasionally take a drink too much? I must confess, though, that you quite surprised us last night. But how effectively you said that! That was a great thought. Just think of it!

 

Kuzovkin: It was due to my foolishness — that’s all.

 

Tropachev: That may be so, but it was surprising. But why a daughter? Wonderful! You will admit that you wouldn’t refuse to be the father of such a daughter. [He pokes him in the ribs.] Tell me — would you refuse? [To Karpachov.] He doesn’t want to speak about nonsense. What do you think? [Karpachov laughs.]

 

Kuzovkin [wants to take his hand away from Tropachev]: Permit me . . .

 

Tropachev: Why did you get angry at us yesterday, hm? Tell me.

 

Kuzovkin [turning his head away and speaking semi - audibly]: I am to blame.

 

Tropachev: That’s it. Well, the Lord will forgive you. So she is your daughter, huh? [Kuzovkin is silent.] Listen, my dear fellow, why don’t you call upon me sometimes? I will treat you right.

 

Kuzovkin: I am extremely obliged to you.

 

Tropachev: Things are nice down my way. Ask this man here. [Pointing to Karpachov.] You could tell me once more about the Vietrovo affair.

 

Kuzovkin [almost inaudibly]: Yes, sir.

 

Tropachev: It seems to me that you didn’t greet Karpachov this morning. [To Karpachov.] Karpach, did you greet Vasili Semenych?

 

Karpachov: No, sir.

 

Tropachev: Ah, my dear fellow, that’s bad.

 

Karpachov: Permit me to do it right now. [With arms outstretched he goes to Kuzovkin. Kuzovkin retreats. The office door opens quickly and Eletski enters. He is pale and agitated.]

 

Eletski [grieved]: Flegont Aleksandrych, it seems to me that I asked you to leave Kuzovkin in peace.

BOOK: Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated)
11.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

After America by Birmingham, John
You Can Run but You Can't Hide by Duane Dog Chapman
The Princess and the Captain by Anne-Laure Bondoux
The Winston Affair by Howard Fast
Chanda's Wars by Allan Stratton
The Mandarin Club by Gerald Felix Warburg
Tears of the Dead by Brian Braden
The Spur of the Platypus by Jackie Nacht