the Count off the face of the earth ? '
' I have already told you why; has he not blasted my happiness ? He has pounced like a wolf '
/
134 A COMMON STORY
' On the fold !' put in his uncle. ' He has robbed me of all,' Alexandr went on. ' He has not robbed; he only came and took it. Was he bound to inquire whether your charmer was taken or not ? I don't understand that absurdity of which lovers have been guilty from the creation of the world—that of getting angry with a rival. Can anything be more senseless—wipe him off the face of the earth! why ? because he is found agreeable ! But was your—what's her name ?—Katinka— averse to him ? She yielded of herself, she has ceased to love you—it's useless to quarrel—you won't bring her back! -And to insist—is egoism ! To demand fidelity from a wife —there is some sense in that; in that case an obligation has been entered into ; the essential welfare of the family often depends on it; but even then one can't demand that she should not love any one—you can only demand that she— hm, well .... And haven't you yourself done everything you could to give her away to the Count ? Have you made any fight for her ? '
'Why, here I am wanting to fight,' said Alexandr, jumping up from his place, ' and you would put a stop to
my honourable impulse '
' Fight with a cudgel in your hand, I daresay!' interrupted his uncle; ' the civilised world has other weapons. You ought to have fought a duel of another kind with the Count before the beauty's eyes.'
Alexandr looked in perplexity at his uncle. ' What kind of duel ? ' he asked.
' I will tell you directly. How have you acted up till now?'
Alexandr, with a great deal of circumlocution, in chaotic fashion, told him the whole course of the affair.
'Do you see? it is you who have been to blame in everything all round,' was Piotr Ivanitch's comment after listeniqg with a scowl. ' How many stupid things you have done ! Ah, Alexandr, what evil genius brought you here ! it wasn't worth while for you to come. You might have been doing all these things at home, by the lake, with your aunt. Ah, how can any one be so childish—make scenes— fly into a fury ? fie ! Who does these things nowadays ? What if your—what's-her-name—Julia—tells it all to the Count ? But no, there is no danger of that, thank goodness.
She's so sensible of course, that in answer to his questions about your relations she has said '
4 'What has she said ?' asked Alexandr, hastily.
' That she had been making a fool of you, that you had been in love with her, that she hated you, could not bear you —as they always do in such cases.'
'Do you suppose—that she—has said that?' asked Alexandr, turning paler.
' Without the least doubt. Can you imagine that she is relating to him how you used to pick yellow flowers together there in the garden ? What simplicity ! '
' What kind of a duel, though, with the Count ? ' asked Alexandr with impatience.
'Why, you ought not to have been rude to him, and avoided him, and given him sulky looks but, quite the contrary, you should have replied to his friendliness by twice, three times, ten times as much friendliness; as for the—what's her name—Nadinka ? I fancy that's not it—you shouldn't have exasperated her with reproaches, you should have been indulgent with her caprices, and have maintained an appearance of noticing nothing, as though any change were something quite impossible. You ought not to have let them get so far as an intimate acquaintance, you should have broken in on their tite-d-tites skilfully—as though accidentally—you should have been everywhere with them—have even gone riding with them—and all the while you should be silently challenging your rival before her eyes, and should lay bare his weak points, as though in surprise at them, without forethought, good-naturedly, even reluctantly and compassionately, and little by little draw off him the disguise in which a young man gets himself up before a pretty girl. You ought to have taken notice what struck and dazzled her most in him and then have skilfully touched on those very points, presented them plainly, and shown them in their everyday light, and have proved that the new hero is nothing particular in himself, and has only assumed this exalted get-up for her benefit. And to do all this, coolly, patiently, skilfully—that's the duel as it is in our age ! But it's not a game for such as you !'
At this point Piotr Ivanitch drank off a glass and at once poured out some more wine.
' Despicable dissimulation! have recourse to double-
dealing to gain a woman's heart!' remarked Alexandr indignantly.
' You would have recourse to the cudgel; pray, is that any better? By dissembling one may keep some one's affection ; by force—I hardly think so! The desire of getting rid of your rival I understand; in that way you would have succeeded in keeping the woman you love for yourself, you would have forestalled or averted danger—it's very natural! but to kill him because he has inspired love is exactly as though you stumbled and hurt yourself and then hit the place, on which you stumbled, as childen do. You may think as you please, but the Count is not to blame ! I see you know nothing of the mysteries of the heart, that's why your amours and your novels are both in such a poor way.'
' Amours !' said Alexandr, shaking his head contemptuously ; ' but is a love very flattering or very lasting that is inspired by dissimulation ? '
' I don't know about it being flattering, that's as a man likes to look at it; it's quite a matter of indifference to me. I haven't the highest opinion of love in general—you know that. As far as I'm concerned, I should be glad if there were no such thing at all, but that such a love is more lasting I am sure. There is no dealing straightforwardly with the heart. It is a strange instrument. Inspire a passion however you like, but retain it by your intelligence. Dissimulation—that is one side of intelligence, there is nothing despicable in it. There is no need to disparage your rival and resort to slandering; you would set your charmer against you in that way. . .. you must only shake off him the spangles in which he dazzles her, and set him before her as a plain ordinary man, and not a hero .... I think it is quite excusable to defend one's own interests by honorable forms of dissimulation which are not disdained even in warfare. Why, you were wanting to get married ! a pretty husband you would have been, if you had begun to make scenes with youi wife and show your rival a stick, and you'd none the less have won—ahem !'
Piotr Ivanitch pointed to his forehead.
' Your Varinka was twenty per cent, more sensible than you when she made the condition that you should wait a year.'
/
' But could I have acted a part even if I had the ability ? To do this one must not love as I do. Some people pretend sometimes to be cold, and stay away for a few days from policy—and that produces an effect. But for me to try to be politic when, at the sight of her, my soul caught fire and my limbs shook and trembled under me, when I was ready to endure any torture, if only I might see her .... No ! whatever you say, for me there is more rapture in loving with all the strength of the soul, even though one suffers, than in being loved without loving, or in loving in a halfhearted way, as an amusement, on a repulsive, calculated system, and playing with a woman as if she were a lapdog and then throwing her aside.'
Piotr Ivanitch shrugged his shoulders.
s> ' All right then, suffer, if it's so agreeable to you,' he
/ said. ' Oh, the provinces ! oh, Asia ! You ought to have
I lived in the East; there they give the women orders whom
j they are to love, and if they don't obey, they drown them.
No, here,' he continued as if to himself, ' to be happy with
a woman can't be managed on your principles, a madman's
really—but it can be done by prudence—many conditions
are necessary .... one must know how to turn a girl into a
woman on a well-thought-out plan, on a method, if you like,
so that she may understand and fulfil her destination. One
must trace a magic circle round her, not too narrow, so that
she may not be conscious of its limits and may not overstep
them ; one must artfully gain the mastery not only of her
heart—that's something, but it's a slippery and unstable
