Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (414 page)

Stupendyev. He can’t do without me. . .. I’m upset. ... What’s that?

Apollon [rushes in with an extraordinarily agitated face], I hadn’t time to hide. The gentleman has come. I hadn’t time to hide.

Stupendyev [in a whisper]. Well, make haste and go in here! [Pushes him into the study.]

Apollon. I hadn’t time to hide and Vassilyevna is gone into the kitchen. [Vanishes.]

Voice of Count Lyubin [behind the scenes]. What’s the meaning of it? Is there nobody here? Why did that fellow run off?

Stupendyev [in despair to Darya]. Vassilyevna is gone into the kitchen!

Voice of Count. Boy!

Darya. Misha, go and open the door.

[Misha opens the door to Count Lyubin, who comes in. He is dressed in the fashionable and rather foppish style common to elderly dandies.]

Misha. Please come in.

Count. Is Mr. Stupendyev here?

Stupendyev [bowing in confusion]. I . . . am Stupendyev.

Count. Glad to meet you. I’m Count Lyubin. I sent my man to you, but it was not convenient for you to come to me.

Stupendyev. I’m sorry, your Excellency, I . . .

Count [turning round, bows frigidly to Darya Ivanovna, who has withdrawn a little aside]. My respects. I must own I was surprised — I suppose you have business, urgent business?

Stupendyev. Precisely, your Excellency, business.

Count. Perhaps, I don’t dispute it, but I imagine that for some people, one may leave one’s business, particularly when . . . one is asked . . . [Vassilyevna comes in from the hall. Stupendyev makes a sign to her to go] when . . . [The Count looks round wondering; Vassilyevna stares him in the face and runs away. The Count turns with a smile to Stupendyev.]

Stupendyev. Never mind, your Excellency. It’s of no consequence, the woman came in and is gone away; unfortunately, she came in, and fortunately, she’s gone away. I’d better, if you’ll allow me, introduce my wife here. . . .

Count [scarcely looking at her, bows frigidly]. Ah, delighted.

Stupendyev. Darya Ivanovna, your Excellency, Darya Ivanovna.

Count [still as frigidly]. Delighted, delighted; but I have come. . .

Darya [modestly]. You don’t recognize me, Count?

Count [looking round]. Oh, good heavens . . . why it’s actually... Darya Ivanovna! What an unexpected meeting! How many years! Is it really you? Well, I declare!

Darya. Yes, Count, it is a long time since we met. . . . I’m much changed since then, it seems.

Count. Not at all, you’re only handsomer. With me . .. I’m sure, it’s quite another thing.

Darya [innocently]. You’re not changed in the least, Count.

Count. Oh, come! But I’m very glad now that your husband could not come to me; it gives me the opportunity of renewing my acquaintance with you. We are old friends, you know.

Stupendyev. Well, you see, your Excellency, it was her. . . .

Darya [hurriedly cutting him short]. Old friends. . . . I expect you have never all this time thought of . . . your old friends?

Count. That’s not so at all. I must own I didn’t quite remember to whom you were married. . . . My mother did write and tell me not long before her death . . . but. . .

Darya. Why, how could you — in Petersburg, in the great world, how could you help forgetting us. We poor provincials now — we don’t forget. [With a faint sigh.] We forget nothing.

Count. It’s not so, I assure you. [A pause.] Believe me, I always took the keenest interest in your future, and am glad to see you now . . . [Hesitates for words] so securely settled.

Stupendyev [bowing gratefully]. Quite, quite securely, you Excellency. The only thing is poverty — insufficient means — that’s the trouble!

Count. Ah, quite so, quite so. . . . [A pause.] But [Addressing Stupendyev] allow me to ask your name and your father’s?

Stupendyev [Sowing], Alexey Ivanitch, your Excellency, Alexey Ivanitch.

Count. Well, my good Alexey Ivanitch, we must talk over our business. ... I imagine this won’t interest your wife ... so had we not better withdraw, you know ... be alone for a while? We will discuss things. . . .

Stupendyev. As your Excellency prefers. . . . Dasha.

[Darya is about to go.]

Count. Oh no, don’t let us disturb you, please stay... . Alexey Ivanitch and I can go elsewhere. Shall we go into your room, Alexey Ivanitch?

Stupendyev. Into my room ... h’m .. . into my study, that is. ...

Count. Yes, yes, into your study. ...

Stupendyev. As your Excellency pleases, but . . .

Count [to Darya], We shall see each other again, Darya Ivanovna... I hope. [Darya curtsies.] Au revoir.

[To Stupendyev.] Where are we to go
           
here? [Motions with his hat towards door of study.]

Stupendyev. In there ... but... your Excellency....

Count [not hearing him]. Very good, very good. . . . [Goes to study, followed by Stupendyev, who as he goes out makes vague signs to his wife. Darya remains musing and looks after them. A few seconds later Apollon shoots like an arrow out of the study and runs off into the hall. Darya starts, smiles and sinks again into a reverie.]

Misha [going up to her]. Darya Ivanovna!

Darya [rouses herself]. Well?

Misha. May I ask if it is long since you saw his Excellency?

Darya. Yes, twelve years.

Misha. Twelve years! Good gracious! And have you received any news from him during that time?

Darya. I? No. He has thought no more of me than of the Emperor of China.

Misha. Goodness! How was it then that he said he took the keenest interest in your future?

Darya. You’re surprised at that? How young you are still — if that really surprises you! [A pause.] How much older he is!

Misha. Older?

Darya. Rouged . . . powdered ... his hair’s dyed . . . and his wrinkles ... his wrinkles. .. .

Misha. Does he really dye his hair? Oh, I say, how shameful! [A pause.] I expect he means to go off at once.

Darya [turning quickly to him]. What makes you think so?

Misha [modestly looking down]. Oh, nothing.

Darya. No . . . he’ll stay to dinner!

Misha [with a sigh]. Oh, what a good thing that would be!

Darya. How so?

Misha [discreetly]. The provisions will be wasted . . . and the wine ... if he doesn’t stay, that is....

Darya [impressively]. Yes. Now listen, Misha, this is important. They will come back in a minute.

Misha [looking at her intently]. Yes.

Darya. So, leave me here alone now, do you see.

Misha. Yes.

Darya. I shall invite the Count to dinner, but Alexey Ivanitch . . .

Misha. I understand. . . .

Darya [with a slight frown]. What do you understand? I shall send Alexey Ivanitch out to you. . . .

Misha. Just so.

Darya. And you must keep him ... it won’t be for very long. . . . Tell him that I must have a little talk with the Count for his benefit. . . . Do you understand?

Misha. Yes.

Darya. Well then, I rely on you. You can take him for a little walk if you like.

Misha. Of course, we may as well go for a walk.

Darya. Very well then. You can go now, leave me alone.

Misha. Yes. [Stops as he is going.’] Don’t forget me too, Darya Ivanovna. You know how devoted I am to you, body and soul, I may say.
      

Darya. What do you mean?

Misha. Oh, Darya Ivanovna, you know I, too, am simply dying to go to Petersburg! What shall I do here without you? Do this for me, Darya Ivanovna, and I will repay you....

Darya [after a pause]. I don’t understand you, I can’t tell yet. . . . Very well, though, go along.

Misha. I go. [Raising his eyes to heaven.] I will repay you, Darya Ivanovna! [Goes out into hall.]

Darya [remains for some time motionless]. He didn’t take the slightest notice of me — that’s clear. He has forgotten me. And it seems I was foolish to have expected anything from his coming. What hopes I’ve been building on his visit. . . . [Looks round her.] Am I to remain here for ever, here? Well, there’s no help for it! [A pause] It’s not quite certain yet, though. He has scarcely seen me. . . . [Glancing in the looking - glass.] I don’t dye my hair, at any rate. . . . We’ll see, we’ll see. [Walks up and doivn the room, goes to the piano and plays a few chords.] This suspense is a torture. [Sits down on sofa.] But perhaps I too have run to seed in this wretched little town. . . . How can I tell? Who is there here to say what I’m like now, who is there who can make me feel what I’ve become? I’m superior to all of them, unhappily. . . . I’m above their level; but in his eyes — I’m none the less a provincial, the wife of a local clerk, his mother’s old protegee, married off somehow . . . while he, he is a distinguished man, high up in the service, wealthy . . . well, he’s not exactly wealthy; his affairs are in a bad way in Petersburg, and I expect he’ll be here for a good deal more than a month. He’s good - looking, that is he was good - looking . . . now he powders and dyes his hair. They say that to men of his age the memories of young days are particularly precious; he knew me twelve years ago, he flirted with me
           
Yes, yes, of course he had nothing better to do, that’s why he flirted with me, but still . . . [sighs] And in those days I remember I dreamed . . . the dreams one has at sixteen! [Suddenly draws herself up erect.] Good heavens, I do believe I have still one of his letters... I’m sure I have. But where is it? How annoying that I didn’t think of it before! . . . I’ve still time, though. ... [.A pause.] Well, we shall see. And how lucky the music and books came just now! It makes me laugh. . . . Like a general before a battle, I’m preparing to meet the enemy. .. . And how I have changed in these last years! Can this be me, so coolly, so calmly thinking over what I’m to do? Necessity will drive one to learn anything, and to unlearn many things. No, I’m not calm, I’m excited now, but only because I don’t know whether I can succeed.