I found natasha on her own. She was pacing slowly up and down the room, arms folded, deep in thought. The flame under the samovar, which had clearly been on the table some time now awaiting my arrival, was nearly extinguished. She smiled and held out her hand to me in silence. Her face had an unhealthy pallor. There was a look of suffering,
tenderness and patience in her smile. Her blue eyes appeared to be larger, her hair thicker – all as a result of losing weight after her illness.
“I thought you’d never come,” she said, as she shook my hand. “I was about to send Mavra over to see if you were ill again.”
“No, I’m not. I was held up. I’ll tell you all about it in a minute. But what’s the matter, Natasha? What’s happened?”
“Nothing’s happened,” she replied, looking surprised. “Should something have happened?”
“But you wrote… you wrote yesterday that I should come. You even specified the time, and asked me not to be late or early. You had never done that before.”
“Ah, yes! I was expecting him to come yesterday.”
“Well, hasn’t he been yet?”
“No,” she said after a pause. “That’s why I thought, if he doesn’t come, I’ll have to talk it over with you.”
“Were you expecting him tonight then?”
“No, I wasn’t. Tonight he’s there.”
“So, Natasha, don’t you expect him at all then?”
“Of course I do,” she replied, looking at me with increased seriousness.
She clearly did not like the drift of my questions. We fell silent, and continued to walk up and down the room.
“I was looking forward to seeing you, Vanya,” she began again with a smile, “and guess what I was doing? Walking up and down reciting a poem. Do you remember – the harness bell, the winter road? “Behold, on the table the samovar stands…” we used to read it together:
The storm is spent, the road is bright,
As countless eyes gaze down from above in the night…
And then:
Then the singer sings a joyful song
To the ringing of the bell,
‘When, oh when will my beloved come
His head on my bosom to rest!
Where else such welcome he’ll find? For scarce
Will dawn’s rays the frost on the panes begin to tease,
The bubbling samovar to the table I’ll bring,
And the fire in the stove will merrily crackle,
Casting a glow on my bed and the colourèd screen…’
“Isn’t that beautiful! How moving those lines are, Vanya, what a vivid, fantastic picture they convey! Just the broad canvas with the pattern in bare outline only – embroider what you like on it. There are two worlds, the past and the present. The samovar, the bright curtain – how familiar it all is!… It could be any small family house in our provincial town. I can picture the house, the new timbers that haven’t yet been weather-boarded… And then the scene changes:
Still the ringing of the bell,
But the song’s no longer joyful now.
‘Where, oh where is my beloved gone?
And what if he did come
And lovingly embraced me?
Where now my bliss!
’Tis sparse, ’tis dark, ’tis dismal
And draughty in my room…
The solitary cherry tree outside
Through the frosted pane unseen,
For all I know, may long be dead.
Where now my bliss! The colours on the screen have faded.
Disconsolate I wander, to my folks I’ll ne’er return.
There’s no one more to chide me,
There’s no one more to love…
There’s no one more at home
Save my maid – a grumpy old soul…’*
“‘Disconsolate I wander’… this ‘disconsolate’ rings so true! ‘There’s no one to chide me’ – how much tenderness and feeling there, as well as painful memories – memories one has summoned up to brood over… My God, how beautiful it is! How true to life!”
She fell silent from a lump in her throat.
“Vanya, my dearest!” she said after a minute’s pause, and then fell silent again, as though she had forgotten what she was about to say or had spoken without thinking, moved by some sudden impulse.
In the meantime we kept walking up and down the room. A lamp was burning in front of the icon. Of late Natasha had become increasingly pious, but did not like people to remark upon it.
“Is there a feast day tomorrow?” I asked. “Your lamp’s lit.”
“No, there isn’t… well, Vanya, why don’t you sit down, you must be tired. Would you like some tea? I’m sure you haven’t had any yet.”
“Let’s sit down. I’ve had some.”
“Where have you come from now?”
“From their place.” That is how we always referred to her home.
“Their place? How did you manage to find the time? Did you just drop in? Did they ask you over?…”
She was showering me with questions. Her cheeks had gone even paler with anxiety. I told her in detail about my meeting with her father, my conversation with her mother, the incident with the medallion – I recounted everything in detail and with all the nuances. I concealed nothing from her. She listened avidly, hanging on my every word. Tears sparkled in her eyes. The incident with the medallion made a strong impression on her.
“Slow down, Vanya, slow down,” she said, often interrupting my account, “don’t leave anything out, I want to know everything, everything – you mustn’t leave anything out!…”
I repeated everything for a second and then a third time, stopping frequently to satisfy her demand for details.
“And you really think he was coming to see me?”
“I don’t know, Natasha; I can’t say whether he was or he wasn’t. There’s no doubt he misses you and loves you – but whether he was coming to see you… that… that—”
“And he kissed the medallion?” she interrupted me. “What did he say when he kissed it?”
“Nothing coherent, just exclamations. He used the most tender words, begging you to come back…”
“Did he really?”
“Yes.”
She began to cry softly.
“Poor things!” she said. “If he knows everything,” she added after a pause, “that’s hardly surprising. He knows an awful lot about Alyosha’s father too.”
“Natasha,” I said gently, “let’s go back to them…”
“When?” she asked, going pale and sitting up in her chair. She thought I was suggesting that we should go straight away.
“No, Vanya,” she said, placing her hands on my shoulders and smiling sadly, “no, my dearest, you’re always going on about the same thing, but… but it’s better not to.”
“Does that mean there’ll never be an end to this awful rift!” I exclaimed, saddened. “Are you really so proud that you can’t bring yourself to take the first step! It’s up to you now, you must be the first to take it. Perhaps that’s just what your father’s waiting for – a chance to forgive you… He’s your father after all, and you’ve offended him! Think of his pride – it’s understandable, it’s quite natural! You’ve got to do it. Why don’t you try it and see, he’ll forgive you completely.”
“Completely! That’s impossible. And you don’t have to keep reproaching me, Vanya. I’ve thought about it day and night. There hasn’t been a single day since I left them when I haven’t thought about it. And the number of times you and I have talked about it! Surely you realize yourself that it’s impossible!”
“Why don’t you try?”
“No, my dearest, I’m afraid it can’t be done. Even if I did try, I’d only turn him against me even more. You can’t bring back the past, and shall I tell you what in particular? Those happy childhood days that I spent together with them. Even if Father forgave me, he’d hardly recognize me now. The person he loved was a little girl, he loved the child in me. He admired my childish simplicity. To show his affection he’d stroke my head just as he used to when I was a seven-year-old sitting on his knee, singing nursery rhymes to him. From my earliest childhood up to the day I left, he always came to my bedside to make the sign of the cross over me for the night. A month before that sad day, he secretly bought me a pair of ear-rings – I found out about it – and he had been as happy as a king imagining how pleased I’d be to get the present, and was terribly annoyed with everybody, especially me, when he discovered that I already knew about it. Three days before I left, he noticed I was very sad, and immediately he too grew sad and was almost ill, and – guess what? – to cheer me up, he decided to get tickets to the theatre!… He honestly thought that would cure me! I’m telling you, he knew and loved me as a little girl – he didn’t want to know that one day I’d be a woman… It never even entered his head. If I were to return home now, he wouldn’t recognize me. Even if he forgave me, he wouldn’t know what to make of me! I’m no longer the same – certainly not a child after all I’ve been through. Even if I lived up to his expectations, he’d still be pining for the happiness of the past, regretting that I’m not at all what I used to be, the child he loved. And the past always seems so much rosier than it really was! How painful it is to remember! The past is so good, Vanya!” she exclaimed, completely carried away and interrupting her own train of thought with this exclamation which burst from her heart like a cry of pain.
“All this is true, Natasha,” I said. “And that means he’s got to get to know you again and start loving you just as he used to. But the main thing is to get to know you. Yes, and he will. Do you really think he’s incapable of getting to know and understand you, a man with his heart!”
“Oh, Vanya, don’t be so unfair! Anyway, what’s so special about me that needs understanding? That’s not what I was talking about. You see, a father’s love too is jealous. He’s hurt that all this business with Alyosha started, and came to a head, without him knowing anything – that he didn’t see it, that he missed it. He knows that he didn’t have the slightest idea of what was coming, and now he’s putting all the unfortunate consequences of our love and my running away down to my “ingratitude” and secretiveness. I didn’t turn to him at the beginning – I didn’t pour my heart out to him at the very beginning of my love for Alyosha. Quite the reverse – I bottled everything up inside me, I avoided him and, I assure you Vanya, that is more hurtful, more offensive to him deep down than the actual consequences of our love – the fact that I left them and devoted myself totally to my lover. Let’s suppose he were to receive me back with a warm, affectionate, fatherly welcome, the seeds of resentment would remain all the same. Two or three days later there’d be bitter words, misunderstandings, recriminations. Besides, he wouldn’t forgive me without conditions. Supposing I were to tell him – tell him the truth from the bottom of my heart that I understand how much I’ve wronged him, how guilty I am before him?… And however much it’d hurt me that he wouldn’t appreciate what all this happiness with Alyosha had cost me, what suffering I’ve had to go through, I’d stifle my pain, I’d put up with everything – but even that wouldn’t be enough for him. He’d demand an impossible price from me. He’d demand that I renounce my past, renounce Alyosha and my love for him, and repent… He’d want the impossible – he’d want to turn the clock back and wipe out the last six months of our life. But I shan’t renounce anyone, and I can’t repent… That’s just the way it is, that’s how things have turned out… No Vanya, I can’t, not now. The time hasn’t come yet.”
“When will it come?”
“I don’t know… Somehow we’ve got to suffer our way through to our future happiness, purchase it by new ordeals. Suffering purifies everything… Oh Vanya, there’s so much pain in life!”
I said nothing and continued to look at her with concern.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Alyosha – I beg your pardon – Vanya?” she said, smiling at the slip of the tongue.
“I’m looking at the way you’re smiling now, Natasha. Where did you pick it up? You didn’t smile like that before.”
“What is there about my smile?”
“The childish innocence you used to have, that’s still there, true enough… But when you smile, it’s as if you had a pain deep in your heart at the same time. Look, you’ve lost weight, Natasha, but your hair seems to have grown thicker… What’s this dress you’ve got on? Did you have it made when you were still at home?”
“You love me very much Vanya, don’t you!” she replied, looking at me affectionately. “Well, what about you, what are you doing now? How are you getting on?”
“Just as ever. I’m still writing my novel. It’s hard going though. I’m struggling. The inspiration’s dried up. I suppose I could cobble something together, and it might even turn out reasonably entertaining, but it would be a shame to spoil a good idea. This one is one of my favourites. But it’s got to be delivered urgently to a journal, there’s a deadline. I’ve even been thinking of scrapping the novel for a straightforward story, something light-hearted and graceful, with no gloomy overtones… it goes without saying… Everyone must be happy and make merry!…”
“You work so hard, you poor thing! What about Smith?”
“Smith’s dead.”
“He hasn’t been haunting you, has he? I’m being serious, Vanya: you’re ill, your nerves are on edge – all those dreams of yours. I could see it all in your face when you were telling me about taking that room. Well, the room’s damp – it’s terrible, isn’t it?”
“Yes! But something else happened tonight… No, on second thoughts, I’ll tell you later.”
However, she was no longer listening to me, but simply sitting there lost in thought.
“I just can’t understand how I could have left them when I did. I was in a state of delirium,” she said at last, looking at me in a way that indicated she did not expect a response.
If I had spoken to her again at that moment, I’m sure she wouldn’t have heard me.
“Vanya,” she said in a barely audible voice, “I asked you over for a reason.”
“What is it?”
“We’re parting.”
“You are parting, or you have parted?”
“This life has got to come to an end. I asked you over to tell you everything, everything that’s been building up inside me and that I’ve been concealing from you till now.” That’s how she always began with me, confiding her secret intentions to me, and then it nearly always turned out that I had heard all these secrets from her own lips before.
“Natasha, I’ve heard you say this a thousand times! Of course you two can’t go on living together. Your relationship is altogether an odd one. There’s nothing in common between you two. But… will you have the strength to leave him?”
“It used to be just intentions, Vanya. But now I’ve made up my mind once and for all. I love him to distraction, but it seems I’m his worst enemy. I’m destroying his future. He has to be set free. He can’t marry me – he hasn’t the strength of will to go against his father. Also, I don’t want to tie him down. That’s why I’m even glad he’s fallen in love with the girl he is engaged to. That’ll make it easier for him to part from me. I’ve got to do it! It’s my duty… If I love him, I must sacrifice everything for him, I must prove to him how much I love him, it’s a matter of duty! Don’t you agree?”
“But surely you won’t be able to persuade him.”
“I’m not even going to try. I’d carry on just as before, even if he were to walk through the door this minute. But I must find a way to make it easy for him to leave me and yet not suffer pangs of conscience. That’s what’s troubling me, Vanya. Help me. Can’t you suggest something?”
“There’s only one way,” I said. “Stop loving him and fall in love with someone else. But I doubt if that would work. You know what he’s like! Look, he hasn’t been to see you for five days. Let’s suppose he’s left you for good. As soon as you write to him to say you’re leaving him of your own accord, he’ll be back here like a shot.”
“Why is it you don’t like him, Vanya?”
“I!”
“Yes, you, you! You’re completely hostile to him in every way! You can’t mention him without saying something malicious. I’ve noticed, thousands of times, your greatest pleasure is to denigrate and discredit him! Most of all denigrate him – tell me if I’m wrong!”
“And you’ve said that to me countless times. That’s enough, Natasha. Let’s change the subject.”
“I’d like to move from here,” she said again after a pause. “Don’t be angry, Vanya…”
“Well, he’d only turn up at your new lodgings too. And I’m really not angry.”
“Love is strong – it may be impossible for him to resist this time. Even if he were to come back to me, it would only be for a very short time. What do you think?”
“I’ve no idea, Natasha, everything is at sixes and sevens with him. He wants to have his cake and eat it, he wants to marry that girl and go on loving you.”
“If I knew for certain he loved her, I’d have come to a decision… Vanya! Don’t hide anything from me! Is there something you know but don’t want to tell me?”
There was a questioning, worried look in her eyes.
“I know nothing, my dear Natasha, I swear. I’ve always been open with you. And it occurs to me that perhaps he isn’t as much in love with the Countess’s stepdaughter as we imagine. Perhaps it’s just infatuation…”
“Do you think so, Vanya? God, if only I could be sure of that! Oh, how I wish I could see him this minute, just to look at him. I’d be able to tell everything by his face! But he’s not here! He’s not here!”
“Are you expecting him by any chance, Natasha?”
“No, he’s with her. I know. I sent someone to find out. How I wish I could get a glimpse of her too… Listen Vanya, this may sound silly, but is it really impossible for me to see her, to meet her somewhere? What do you think?”
She was waiting expectantly to see what I would say.
“There’s nothing to stop you having a look at her. The trouble is just having a look wouldn’t be enough for you.”
“Yes, it would; I’d be able to work out the rest from that. But something must have come over me. I keep walking up and down all on my own, always on my own – thinking to myself all the time, my thoughts in a whirl. It’s so painful! I was just thinking, Vanya – would it be possible for you to get to know her? After all, the Countess praised your novel – you said so yourself once – and you sometimes go to Prince R***’s soirées, which she attends as well. Why don’t you get yourself introduced to her? As a matter of fact, Alyosha could introduce you. You could then come back and tell me all about her.”
“Natasha, my dear, let’s talk about that later. More to the point, do you really think you’d be strong enough to leave him? Just look at yourself now – you’re not exactly a picture of resolve!”
“I w-would be!” she replied almost inaudibly. “There’s nothing I couldn’t do for him! My life is his for the taking! But do you know, Vanya, I can’t bear the thought that he’s with her now, that he’s forgotten me, that he’s sitting next to her, talking and laughing – remember the way he used to sit here… That he’s looking deep into her eyes – he always looks at people like that – and it will never occur to him that I might be here… with you.”
She broke off and glanced at me in despair.
“Natasha, just now you were saying—”
“Why don’t we, why don’t we both just go our separate ways and never look back?” she interrupted me, her eyes glinting. “I’ll give him my blessing. But it’s unbearable, Vanya, to think that he’d be the first to forget me! Oh Vanya, what agony I’m going through! I’m completely lost – my mind tells me one thing, but reality is quite different! What’s to become of me?”
“Natasha, calm yourself…”
“It’s been five days already. Every hour, every minute… Even in my sleep – always him, just him! Vanya – let’s go there! You take me!”
“Natasha!”
“No, let’s go! I’ve been waiting for you, Vanya! I’ve been thinking of nothing else for the last three days. That was what I wrote to you about… You must take me there. I won’t take no for an answer… I’ve been waiting for you… three days… There’s a party there tonight… he’s there… let’s go!”
She seemed to be in a delirium. There was a commotion in the hall; Mavra appeared to be arguing with someone.
“Stay here, Natasha… Who’s there?” I asked. “Listen!”
She listened with a puzzled smile and suddenly turned very pale.
“Good God! Who is it?…” she said in a barely audible voice.
She made as if to stop me, but I went out into the hall to join Mavra. Just as I expected! It was Alyosha. He was questioning Mavra, and she had been blocking his way.
“Look at him turning up like that!” she said in an authoritarian fashion. “Well? Where have you been all this time? Go on, be off with you! You won’t sweet-talk your way past me! Go on, go away! Nothing to say for yourself, have you?”
“I’m not afraid of anyone! I’m going in!” Alyosha was saying, but he seemed somewhat nonplussed.
“Well, go on then! You really think you’re something, don’t you?”
“I’m going in! Ah! You’re here too!” he said, catching sight of me. “How nice that you’re here too! Well, here I am. You see, this is a little awkward…”
“Why don’t you just come in?” I asked. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything, I assure you, because by God, I’m not to blame. You think I’m to blame? You’ll see, I’ll explain everything in a minute… Natasha, may I come in?” he called out with feigned bravura, stopping in front of the closed door.
There was no reply from inside.
“What’s going on?” he asked, perturbed.
“Nothing – she was there just now,” I replied, “unless something…”
Alyosha opened the door carefully and cast a timid glance around the room. There was no one to be seen.
Suddenly he caught sight of her in the corner between the cupboard and the window. She was standing there as though in hiding, more dead than alive. To this day, every time I think of it, I can’t help smiling. Alyosha went up to her, quietly and gingerly.
“Good evening, Natasha… Natasha, what’s the matter?” he said shyly, looking at her in alarm.
“Oh… nothing!…” she replied, terribly embarrassed, as if it were she who was to blame. “Would you… like some tea?”
“Natasha, listen…” Alyosha said, completely nonplussed. “You’re probably convinced that it’s all my fault… But I’m not to blame, not at all! I’ll explain everything.”
“No need at all,” Natasha whispered. “No, no, no need… better to give me your hand and… let that be the end of it… as always…” And she came out from the corner. Colour was returning to her cheeks.
Her eyes were lowered as if she was afraid to look at Alyosha.
“Oh my God!” Alyosha exclaimed ecstatically. “If it had been my fault, I probably wouldn’t even have dared to look at her after this! Look at her, just look at her!” he cried, turning towards me. “There you are, she thinks it’s all my fault, and blames me for everything. Everything speaks against me, all the evidence is against me! I’ve stayed away five days! Rumour has it that I’m at my fiancée’s and – would you believe it? – she’s ready to forgive me! She’s already saying to me, ‘Give me your hand and let that be the end of it!’ Natasha, my darling, my angel, my angel! I’m not to blame, and you must believe that! I’m not to blame in the least! On the contrary! On the contrary!”
“But… But you’re supposed to be there now… You’ve been invited there… How is it you’re here? W-what time is it?…”
“Half-past ten! I was there… But I pretended to be ill and left, and… this is the first, the very first time in five days that I’ve been free, that I’ve been able to escape from them and come to see you, Natasha. To be honest, I could have come before, but I didn’t, deliberately! And why? You’ll find out in a moment. I’ll explain. That’s just why I came – to explain – only I swear, this time I’m not to blame for anything that concerns you! I repeat – I’m not to blame for anything!”
Natasha raised her head and looked at him… but he looked back at her with such candour, his face was so cheerful, so honest, so suffused with joy, that it was impossible for her not to believe him. I expected they would cry out and fall into each other’s arms, as had happened many times before during similar reconciliations. But Natasha, as though overwhelmed by happiness, lowered her head and suddenly… began to weep softly. At this, Alyosha was no longer able to restrain himself. He fell at her feet. He showered her hands, her feet with kisses, he seemed to be in ecstasy. Her legs were giving way under her. I brought a chair up to her, and she sat down.