Михаил Лермонтов - A Hero of Our Time [New Translation]

At that moment they came up beside me; I struck my horse with my whip and came out of the bush…

“Mon dieu, un Circassien!” [9] “Mon dieu, un Circassien!”: “My God, a Circassian!” (French) the princess cried out in horror.

In order to completely disabuse her of this, I replied in French, slightly bowing:

“Ne craignez rien, madame—je ne suis pas plus dangereux que votre cavalier.” [10] “Ne craignez rien, madame—je ne suis pas plus dangereux que votre cavalier.”: “Fear not, madam—I am no more dangerous than your cavalier.” (French)

She was embarrassed—but by what? By her mistake or by my reply, which may have seemed audacious to her? I would hope that the latter suggestion is correct. Grushnitsky threw me a look of displeasure.

Late that evening, at eleven o’clock that is, I went out for a stroll along the linden alley of the boulevard. The city was sleeping, the lights of fires flashed in a few windows. Craggy crests loomed black on three sides: the ridges of Mount Mashuk, on whose peaks lay a sinister little cloud. The moon smoked in the east. In the distance the snowy mountains sparkled with a silver fringe. The calls of the sentries alternated with noises from the hot springs, which are released at night. From time to time, the ringing clatter of horses scattered along the street, accompanied by the creaking of a Nogay wagon, [11] Nogay wagon: The Nogays are an East Caucasian people. and doleful Tatar song. I sat on a bench and became lost in my thoughts… I felt the necessity to give vent to my thoughts in a conversation with a friend… but with whom?

“What is Vera doing right now?” I thought… I would give dearly to be holding her hand at this moment. Suddenly I hear quick and uneven steps… It’s probably Grushnitsky… It is!

“Where have you come from?”

“From the Princess Ligovsky,” he said very significantly.

“How Mary sings!”

“Do you know what?” I said to him. “I’ll wager that she doesn’t know you’re a cadet but thinks you were demoted…”

“Maybe! What is it to me?” he said absentmindedly.

“Well, I’m just saying…”

“And do you know that you made her terribly angry today? She felt it was an outrageous audacity. It took enormous effort but I managed to convince her that you are so well brought up and so well acquainted with society that you couldn’t have had the intention of insulting her. She says that you have an insolent gaze, that you probably have a very high opinion of yourself.”

“She isn’t mistaken… and do you not wish to defend her honor?”

“I regret that I do not have this right yet…”

“O-ho!” I thought, “he obviously has hopes already…”

“But then again, it’s worse for you,” continued Grushnitsky. “Now it will be difficult for you to make their acquaintance— a pity! Theirs is one of the most pleasant households I have ever known…”

I smiled inwardly.

“The most pleasant household to me is currently my own,” I said, yawning, and stood up to leave.

“But you must admit that you are contrite?”

“What nonsense! If I so wished, I could be at the princess’s house tomorrow evening…”

“We shall see…”

“And, in order to please you, I will even flirt with the princess…”

“Yes, if she deigns to speak to you…”

“I am waiting for the moment when your conversation bores her… Farewell!”

“And I am off to wander—I’m not at all able to fall asleep these days… Listen, why don’t we go to the restaurant, where we can gamble… I need strong sensations today…”

“I hope you lose…”

I went home.

Almost a week had passed and I still hadn’t made the acquaintance of the Ligovskys. I am waiting for a suitable occasion. Grushnitsky, like a shadow, follows the young princess everywhere. Their conversations are endless: when will she tire of him?… The mother isn’t paying attention to this, because he isn’t an eligible suitor. That is the logic of mothers! I noticed two, three affectionate glances—an end must be put to this.

Yesterday, Vera appeared at the well for the first time… Since we met in the grotto, she hasn’t left her house. We lowered our glasses at the same time, and leaning in, she said to me in a whisper:

“Would you not like to meet the Ligovskys?… Only there can we see each other…”

A reproach! Boring! But I have earned it…

Incidentally: tomorrow there is a subscription ball in the hall of the restaurant and I am going to dance the mazurka with Princess Mary.

The hall of the restaurant had been turned into the Club of the Nobility. At nine o’clock everyone arrived. The princess and her daughter were among the last to appear; many ladies looked at her with envy and ill will because Princess Mary was dressed in such good taste. Those who consider themselves local aristocracy hid their envy and attached themselves to her. What is to be done? Where there is a collection of women, there will instantly appear a higher and a lower circle. Grushnitsky stood by the window, in a crowd of people, having pressed his eyes against the glass and now not allowing them to leave his goddess. Walking past, she nodded her head toward him just perceptibly. He beamed like the sun… The dances started with a polonaise; then they began to play a waltz. Spurs started ringing, coattails lifted and twirled.

I stood behind one fat lady, overshadowed by pink feathers; the splendor of her dress reminded me of the times of farthingales—and the mottled colors of her rough skin, of the happy era of black taffeta beauty spots. The biggest wart on her neck was covered by the clasp of her necklace. She was saying to her cavalier, a dragoon captain:

“This young Princess Ligovsky is a highly intolerable girl! Imagine, she bumped into me and didn’t excuse herself, yes and she even turned and looked at me through her lorgnette… C’est impayable ! [12] C’est impayable!: “That’s priceless!” (French) … And what does she have to be proud of? Someone needs to teach her…”

“No sooner said than done,” the obliging captain replied and went off to the other room.

I then walked up to the princess, and invited her to waltz, employing the liberal local customs, which allow one to dance with unfamiliar ladies.

She could barely prevent herself from smiling and hiding her sense of triumph. She succeeded, however, quickly enough in striking a pose of complete indifference, even severity: she carelessly extended a hand to my shoulder, bending her head slightly to the side, and we were off. I haven’t known a more voluptuous and supple waist! Her fresh breath touched my face; occasionally a ringlet, which had come loose from its friends in the whirlwind of the waltz, slipped across my hot cheek… I did three circuits. (She waltzes surprisingly well.) She was out of breath, her eyes had grown dim, and her half-opened lips could barely whisper the obligatory: “Merci Monsieur.”

After a few minutes of silence, I said to her, with a very humble air:

“I have heard, princess, that though completely unacquainted with you, I already have the unhappiness of having earned your disfavor… that you found me to be audacious… is it true?”

“And would you now like to confirm that opinion for me?” she replied with an ironic grimace, which, however, well suited her animated physiognomy.

“If I have had the audacity to offend you somehow, then let me have the even greater audacity to beg your forgiveness… And, really, I would very much like to prove to you that you are mistaken with regard to me…”