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EDROVO
Having arrived at at a settlement, I got out of the carriage. Not far from the road, over the water, stood many women and young girls. The lust that had my entire life dominated me, though by now dimmed, took its usual course and directed my steps to the throng of these rustic beauties. This crowd consisted of more than thirty women. They were all in their holiday clothing, their necks exposed, feet bare, elbows uncovered, each dress tucked up in front under the girdle at the waist, white undershirts, cheerful glances, health written on their cheeks. Although coarsened by heat and cold, these attractions were no less charming for the lack of artifice: the beauty of youth in its full brilliance, a smile on the lips or a hearty laugh from which a row of teeth whiter than the purest ivory became visible. Teeth that would drive fashionable dressers out of their minds. Come hither, dear Muscovite and Petersburg young ladies, look at their teeth, learn from them how to keep them pure. They have no dentist. They do not daily rub the shine off their teeth with brushes and powder. Stand next to any of them as you please, mouth to mouth. None will infect your lung with their breath. But your own breath, your own might, perhaps, in them deposit the basis of … disease … which one I fear to say; while you might not blush, you would be angry.—Am I telling a lie?—One of you, your husband goes about with all the trashy wenches. Having contracted the disease, he drinks, eats, and, why, sleeps with you, while another woman deigns to have lovers by the year, month, week, or, God forbid, day. Having made his acquaintance in a day and fulfilled her desire, the next day she does not know him; indeed, sometimes she does not even know that she has already become infected through a mere kiss of his.—And you, my little dove, a fifteen-year-old maiden, perhaps you are still innocent; but I can see on your brow that your blood has been thoroughly poisoned. Your father of blessed memory hardly left the care of doctors, but to set you on her own pious path your good lady and mother has found you a bridegroom, a worthy elderly general, and only rushes to give you away in marriage in order not to make a visit to the orphanage with you. No bad thing it is to be married to a codger, complete freedom to do as you please. The main thing is to be wedded, all the children are his. Should he be jealous, so much the better: there is more pleasure to be had in frolics snatched secretly; from the first night, it should be possible to train him not to follow the stupid old custom of sleeping in one bed with his wife.—
I was not keeping track how long you, my dear city in-laws, aunties, sisters, nieces, and so on, detained me. To tell the truth, you don’t deserve it. You have rouge on your cheek, rouge on your heart, rouge on your conscience, and on your sincerity you have … soot. It’s all the same whether it is rouge or soot. I would flee from you at full pelt to my country beauties. It is true that some among them resemble you, but there are others unheard of and never seen in cities. Look how round, stout, straight, and sound the limbs of my beauties are. You are amused that their feet are five or even six vershok* long. Well, then, my dear niece, with a foot size of three vershok, stand next to them and launch into a race. Who will reach the tall birch at the end of the meadow faster? Tut-tut, that’s not your business.—And you, my dear little dove, dear sister, whose waist is three-quarters of an arshin, you deign to laugh that my country sprite’s belly is uncorseted. Hold on, my dear dove, I shall laugh a bit at you too. Here we are, more than nine months since marriage and your three-quarter arshin figure is already ruined. And when you get as far as childbirth, then you’ll sing a different tune. May God grant that be no more than a laughing matter. My dear brother-in-law goes around feeling blue. He has already thrown into the fire all your corset laces. He has removed the stays from your dresses but it’s too late—no way can he straighten those limbs of yours that grew crooked.—Grieve, my dear brother-in-law, grieve. Heeding the deplorable fashion known for causing the death of women in childbirth, for you our mother has laid up grief for many years to come, illness for her daughter, a weak constitution for your children. Illness now brandishes over her head the fatal knife and if it does not touch your spouse’s life, thank chance; and if you believe that Divine Providence is concerned with the matter, then thank Providence if you like.—But I haven’t yet finished with these city ladies.—This is what habit does; no wish to have done with them. And, honestly, I’d not have parted from you if I could have persuaded you not to disguise with rouge your faces and sincerity. And now, goodbye. —
While I gazed at the rustic nymphs washing dresses, my carriage left without me. I intended to follow it on foot when one wench who looked about twenty and was, of course, no more than seventeen, laying her wet laundry on the carrying pole, took the same road as I. Drawing level with her, I began a conversation with her. “Do you not find it hard to carry such a heavy load, my dear (what your name is I do not know)?” “My name is Anna, and my load is not heavy.65 And even if it were heavy, I would not have asked you, Master, to aid me.” “Why be so stern Annushka, my soul, I wish you no harm.” “Thank you, thanks. We often see rakes like you. Please, be on your way.” “Anyutushka, honestly, I am not how I seem to you and am not like those about whom you speak. They, I venture, do not initiate their conversation with village girls as I have, but always begin with a kiss; but even if I were to kiss you then it would only be, of course, as though you were my very own sister.” “Do not sidle up too close, please. I have heard stories of this kind; and if you intend no harm, what do you want from me?” “Annushka, my soul, I would like to know whether you have a mother and father, how you live, richly or scantily, or cheerfully, and whether you have a bridegroom.” “And what’s it to you, Master? This is the first time in my life I hear such speeches.” “From which you may judge, Anyuta, that I am not a villain, do not wish to bully or dishonor you. I love women because their constitution is made in a way that suits my capacity for tenderness; and I love country or peasant women even more because they are still ignorant of dissembling, do not assume the cover of feigned love, but when they love they love with all their heart and sincerely….” All this time the girl looked at me, her eyes popping with astonishment. And it could only be this way, since who does not know how impudently the nobleman’s bold hand grasps after tricks indecent and offensive to the chastity of country girls? In the eyes of old and young members of the nobility, these creatures were made for their delectation. They behave as you’d expect, especially with the unfortunate subjected to their commands. During the recent Pugachev disturbance, when all servitors took up arms against their masters, some peasants (this story is not untrue) tied up their master and were taking him to certain execution. What was the reason for this? He had been in every respect a good and humane master, but a husband was insecure concerning his wife and a father concerning his daughter. Every night the master’s scouts fetched for him a woman he had chosen that day to be sacrificed in dishonor. It was known in the village that he had defiled sixty girls, violating their virginity. When it arrived, a detachment of soldiers rescued this barbarian from the hands of his angry peasants. Stupid peasants, you sought justice from a Pretender!66 Why did you not inform your legal authorities about this? They would have condemned your master to civil death and you would have remained innocent. Now, however, the villain has been saved. Blessed is he if the immediate sight of death has changed his way of thinking and altered the flow of his vital juices.—But we said that the peasant is dead in the eyes of the law…. No, no, he is alive, he will be alive, if he wants it….
“If, Sir, you are not jesting,” said Anyuta, “then this is what I will tell you. I have no father, he died about two years ago. I have a mother and younger sister. Dad left us five horses and three cows. We have enough small livestock and poultry, but we do not have a worker at home. They wanted to arrange my marriage into a wealthy household to a ten-year-old lad, but I did not want this. What do I want with such a child: I will not love him. And by the time he grows up I will be old and he will start to chase after others. They also say that family’s father-in-law himself sleeps with the young daughters-in-law while the sons are growing up. That is why I had no wish to join his family. I would like someone my own age. My husband will be the one I love, and he will also love me, I have no doubt about that. I do not like going out with young men, but wish to get married, Master. And do you know why?” said Anyuta, lowering her eyes. “My dear, tell me, Anyutushka, do not be ashamed. On the lips of innocence all words are blameless.” “Here is what I will tell you. Last summer, a year ago, the son of our neighbor married my friend with whom I always used to attend gatherings. Her husband loves her, and she loves him so much that she bore him a son in the tenth month after their marriage. Every evening she goes out to fuss over him at the gates. She cannot look at him enough. It seems that the little boy, too, already loves his mother. She says ‘goo goo’ and he laughs aloud. I am on the verge of tears daily. I so much would love myself to have a little boy like that….” I was unable to contain myself and embraced Anyuta and kissed her with all my heart. “Look here, Master, what a sham you are, you are already dallying with me. Sir, off you go, stay away from me, leave a poor orphan,” said Anyuta bursting into tears. “If my father were alive and saw this then he would have given you quite a hiding, despite the fact that you are a master.” “Do not be offended, my dear Anyutushka, do not be offended, my kiss will not defile your innocence. In my eyes, it is sacred. My kiss is a sign of the respect I bear you and was wrenched by rapture from a deeply moved soul. Do not fear me, dear Anyuta, I am not akin to a beast of prey like our young lordlings who consider the violation of virginity as a mere trifle. Had I known that my kiss was going to offend you, I swear to you before God that I would never have dared.” “Consider for yourself, Master, how could I not get cross about a kiss when they are all already promised to another? They have already been given in advance and I have no power over them.” “You delight me. You already know how to love.67 You have found another heart suited to your own. You will be blessed. Nothing will debase your union. You will not be surrounded by spies trying to ensnare you in their web of perdition. The friend-of-your-heart’s hearing will not be ensnared by a seductive voice tempting him to the destruction of his fidelity to you. But why then, my dear Anyuta, are you deprived of the satisfaction of enjoying happiness in the embraces of your sweet friend?” “Ah, Master, because they will not permit him to move to our house. They want one hundred rubles. And my mother will not give me up: I am her only worker.” “Does he love you?” “And how can he not! In the evenings, he comes to our house and together we look at my girlfriend’s little boy…. He would like such a little one of his own. I will be sad, but shall have to put up with it. My Vanyukha68 wants to go to Piter69 on the barges to work and not come back until he has earned a hundred rubles toward buying his freedom.” “Do not let him, dear Anyutushka, do not let him go; he is going to his doom. There, he will learn to get drunk, to be profligate, to be a glutton, learn to stop loving fieldwork—and the worst of it is that he will stop loving you.” “Ah, Master, do not scare me,” said Anyuta, nearly crying. “It will be all the sooner, Anyuta, if he happens to serve in the nobleman’s house. The example of the master infects the upper servants, the lower ones catch it from the upper servants, and from them the infection of debauchery reaches as far as the countryside. An example is a true plague: to see something is to do it.” “Then what should we do? So I will never be married to him. It is, indeed, time for him to wed. He doesn’t chase after others; since I am not allowed to marry him and go live in his house they will plight his troth to another girl, and I, poor me, will die from grief….” She said this, weeping bitter tears. “No, my dear Anyutushka, tomorrow you will be married to him. Lead me to your mother.” “Here’s where we live,” she said as she stopped. “Walk past, my mamma will see me and think ill. And even though she does not beat me, her word alone is worse than any blows.” “No, my Anyuta, I’ll go with you …” and, without waiting for her answer, I entered the gates and went straight up the steps to the hut. Anyuta shouted after me, “Stop, Master, stop.” But I paid no need. In the hut, I found Anyuta’s mother who was mixing dough; next to her, on the bench sat her future son-in-law. Without further hemming and hawing, I told her that I wanted her daughter to marry Ivan and to that end I had brought her what was needed to eliminate an impediment to that business. “Thank you, Master, “said the old lady, “there is no need for this anymore. Vanyukha has just now come to say that his father gives him leave to come to my home. So we will have the wedding on Sunday.” “Then let what I have promised be Anyuta’s dowry.” “And for that thank you. Boyars do not give dowries to maidens for no reason. If you have wronged my Anyuta, and that is why you are giving her a dowry, then God will punish you for your bad conduct; but I shall not take your money. If you are a good person and do not abuse the poor, bad people will think who knows what if I take your money.” There was no end to my surprise in finding so much nobility in the manner of thought of these rustic dwellers. In the meantime, Anyuta entered the hut and showered praise on me to her mother. I again attempted to give them money, giving it to Ivan for the establishment of their home. But he said to me, “I have, Master, two hands, and with them I shall establish my household.” Noting that my presence was not very pleasant for them I left them and returned to my carriage.
While I was leaving Edrovo, Anyuta did not quit my thoughts. Her innocent sincerity pleased me infinitely. The noble action of her mother captivated me. I compared this venerable mother, her sleeves rolled up over the dough or with a milking pail next to a cow, with city mothers. The peasant woman did not want to take my untainted, well-intended hundred rubles, which in proportion to wealth would be like ten, fifteen, or more thousand for the wife of a colonel, state councillor, major, or general; indeed, if to a madam colonel, major, state councillor … (in accordance with my promise to the widow of the Edrovo carriage driver) whose daughter has a not bad-looking face, or is at least innocent, which would itself be sufficient, a distinguished gentleman of a seventy-year or, God forbid, seventy-two-year vintage, would offer five, ten, fifteen thousand or a fine dowry of an undetermined amount, or would find a high-ranking groom, or would get for her a maid-of-honor position at court—if that were so I ask you, city mothers, would your heart not skip a beat? Would you not want to see your daughter covered in diamonds in a gilded carriage drawn by four horses instead of walking on foot; or see her transported by a train of horses rather than the two famished nags that drag her? I agree with you on the point that you would observe ceremony and propriety and that you would not surrender readily, as stage actresses do. No, my little doves, I give you a month or two but not more. But if you should compel a grandee lover to sigh away for a longer time pointlessly, then he, preoccupied as he is with affairs of state, will leave you in order not to waste valuable time with you that he could better spend for the good of society.—A thousand voices rise up against me, they curse me with all the possible foul names: rogue, thief, rasc …, dev …, and so on and so on.—My little doves, calm down, I am not besmirching your honor. Are all of you like this? Take a good look in this mirror. If any of you recognizes yourself in it then curse me without mercy. I shall not make a complaint about her, I shall not take her to court over this.
Anyuta, Anyuta, you have turned my head! Why did I not meet you fifteen years ago? Your sincere innocence, impervious to the lascivious daring of a seducer, would have taught me to stay on the path of chastity. Why was the first kiss of my life not the one I planted on your cheek in a state of spiritual rapture? The reflection of your liveliness would have penetrated to the depths of my heart, and I would have avoided the nastiness that has filled my existence. I would have kept my distance from putrid women hired for lust, respected the marital bed, not disturbed the bond of family with my fleshly insatiety; virginity would have been to me the holy of holies and I would not have dared to touch it. O my Anyutushka! Remain always seated by the village gate and be an example through your uninhibited innocence. I am certain that you will turn to the path of good behavior one who has begun to stray from it and will reinforce one inclined to stray. Do not be alarmed if someone rooted in corruption, having grown grey in the embraces of shamelessness, walks past you and despises you. Do not attempt in vain to hinder his progress with the pleasure of your conversation. His heart is already stone, his soul has a carapace of diamond. The beneficial prod of innocent virtue is incapable of leaving on him a deep trace. Its tip will skate over the surface of his smoothly hardened vice. Take care lest your stinger is blunted against it. But do not let pass the youth deceived by the dangerous delights of beauty, catch him in your net. He seems proud, arrogant, impulsive, insolent, bold, insulting, wounding. But his heart will give way to the impression you make and open up to receive your positive example.—Anyuta, I cannot take my leave of you although already I spot the twentieth milestone from you.—
What is this custom about which Anyuta was telling me? They wanted to give her in marriage to a ten-year-old child. Who could allow such a union? Why does the hand guarding the laws not act for the extirpation of such an abuse? In Christian law marriage is a sacrament, in civil law an agreement or contract. What kind of hierophant could bless such an unequal marriage, or what sort of judge could record it in his journal? Where ages are not equivalent there can be no marriage. The laws of nature prohibit this sort of thing as something that is useless for humanity; it should be prohibited by civil law as harmful to society. A man and wife in society are two citizens who make an agreement confirmed by law binding them to give one another reciprocal sensual pleasure (may nobody dare to contest this most elementary law of cohabitation and a foundation of marital concord, the basis of untainted love, and the firm foundation stone of spousal harmony), undertake to live together, to share a common property, to cultivate the fruits of their passion, and so as to live peacefully not to harm one another. Given the disparity in years, is it possible to keep the terms of such an agreement? If the husband is ten years old and the wife twenty-five, as often happens among the peasantry; or the husband is fifty and the wife is fifteen or twenty, as happens among the nobility, can there be any reciprocal pleasure of the senses? You tell me, oldster husbands, but speak in conscience, do you deserve the name of a husband? You are only able to ignite an amorous fire but not to extinguish it. One of the primary laws of nature is violated by the inequality of years. Can, then, a fundamental law be secure if it does not have a basis in nature? Let us be clear: it does not even exist.—To cultivate the fruits of mutual passion.—But can there be reciprocity in this instance when, on the one hand, you have a flame and, on the other, insensateness? Can there be a fruit here if the tree that has been planted is deprived of the benefit of rain and nourishing moisture? And if a fruit should result then it will be scrawny, ugly, and doomed to speedy decay.—Not to harm one another.—This rule is eternal and reliable: if the feelings of the couple are equally satisfied through a felicitous sympathy, then the marital union will be fortunate; small domestic tribulations soon quiet down at the onset of joy. And when the chill of old age will shroud erotic joy in an unbreachable carapace, then the recollection of former joys will calm a sullen antiquity of years.—Only one condition of the marital contract can be fulfilled in inequality: to live together.—But will it have reciprocity?—One will be a despotic ruler, holding power in his hands, the other will be a weak subject and a complete slave, able only to fulfill the bidding of the lord.—These, Anyuta, are the good thoughts you inspired in me. Farewell, my dear Anyutushka, your lessons will forever be engraved in my heart and the sons of my sons will inherit them.
The Khotilov postal station was already visible yet I continued to reflect on the Edrovo wench and in a burst of ecstasy exclaimed loudly from my spirit: “O Anyuta! Anyuta!” The road was not smooth, the horses advanced at a walk; the coach driver listened in to my speech turning round: “It is clear, Master,” he said to me with a smile and righting his hat, “that you have taken a fancy to our Anyutka. That’s some girl! You are not the only one she’s run rings round…. She’s got it all…. There are lots of fetching girls at our postal station but by comparison with her the rest are nothing to speak of. What a mistress she is of dancing! She will outdo everyone, no matter who…. And when she goes out to harvest in the field … what a fine spectacle. Well … my brother Vanka is happy.” “Ivan is your brother?” “My cousin. There’s a fellow! Three lads began to court Anyutka. Ivan sent them all packing. They pleaded this and that, but she was having none of it. And Vanyukha immediately reeled her in…. (We were already driving through the village gate….) That’s the way it is, Master. Anyone can dance—but not everyone can dance like a juggler.” And he drove up to the station courtyard.
“Anyone can dance—but not everyone can dance like a juggler,” I repeated as I got down from the carriage…. “Anyone can dance—but not everyone can dance like a juggler,” I repeated, bending down and, after picking up, unfolding….
* nine or ten inches—Trans.
five inches—Trans.
twenty-one inches—Trans.