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

“That will be very difficult for you…”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t visit us, and these balls, likely, will not be repeated very often.”

This means, I thought, that their doors are forever closed to me.

“Do you know, princess,” I said with a certain vexation, “one must never reject a penitent criminal: he might do something doubly criminal out of despair… and then…”

A guffaw and whispering in the people surrounding us forced me to turn and cut short my sentence. Several paces away from me stood a group of men, and in their number was the dragoon captain, who had just expressed hostile intentions toward the charming princess. He was especially pleased with something; he was rubbing hands, guffawing, and winking at his friends. Suddenly a gentleman in a frock coat with a long mustache and a flushed face separated from among them, and directed his unsure steps straight for the princess: he was drunk. Stopping in front of the embarrassed princess and putting his hand behind his back, he fixed his cloudy gray eyes on her and pronounced in a wheezy descant:

“Permetay… oh now what is it!?… Essentially, I’m reserving you for the mazurka… ”

“What can I do for you?” uttered the princess in a trembling voice, throwing a pleading look around. Alas! Her mother was far away, and none of her friendly cavaliers were nearby; one adjutant, it seems, saw all this and hid behind the crowd, in order not to be caught up in the story.

“What?” said the drunken gentleman, winking at the dragoon captain, who was encouraging him with his gestures. “Aren’t you game?… Then I again request the honor of engaging you for the mazurka … Maybe you think I’m drunk? No matter!… I can assure you it feels a lot more free that way…”

I saw that she was ready to faint out of fright and indignation.

I walked up to the drunk gentleman, grabbed him rather firmly by the arm, and, looking at him squarely in the eyes, requested him to move off. “Because,” I added, “the princess long ago promised the mazurka to me.”

“Well, what of it!… Another time!” he said, laughing, and withdrew toward his ashamed friends, who immediately led him off to the other room.

I was rewarded with a deep and miraculous look.

The princess walked up to her mother and told her everything, and the latter sought me in the crowd and thanked me. She declared to me that she knew my mother and was friendly with a half dozen of my aunts.

“I don’t know how it has happened that we haven’t met before now,” she added, “but admit that you alone are to blame: you avoid people as I have never seen a person do. I hope that the air of my drawing room will chase away your spleen… will it not?”

I gave her one of those lines which every one of us should have prepared for such circumstances.

The quadrille went on for an awfully long time.

At last, the mazurka began to thunder from the balcony above; the young princess and I seated ourselves.

I didn’t once allude to the drunken gentleman, nor to my previous behavior, nor to Grushnitsky.

The effect of the unpleasant scene slowly dissipated in her. Her little face became radiant. She made sweet jokes. Her conversation was keen, without the pretension of witticisms, lively and free. Her remarks were sometimes profound… I led her to feel, with a very intricate phrase, that I had long ago taken a fancy to her. She bent her head and lightly blushed.

“You are an odd person!” she said then, lifting her velvet eyes to me and forcing a laugh.

“I didn’t want to be introduced to you,” I continued, “because there is too thick a crowd of admirers around you, and I was afraid of disappearing in it.”

“You needn’t have been afraid! They are all very tedious…”

“All of them! Not all of them surely?”

She looked at me intently, as though trying to remember something, and then blushed again lightly, and, finally, articulated decisively: “All of them!”

“Even my friend Grushnitsky?”

“Is he your friend?” she said, displaying a certain doubt.

“Yes.”

“He, of course, isn’t included in the ranks of the boring…”

“But in the ranks of the unfortunate,” I said, laughing.

“Naturally! Is it funny to you? I wish that you were in his place…”

“What? I was once myself a cadet, and, really, that was the best time of my life!”

“Is he a cadet?” she said quickly and then added: “But I thought he was…”

“What did you think?”

“Nothing!… Who is that lady?”

Here the conversation changed direction and did not return to this again.

Then the mazurka finished and we bid each other farewell with hopes to meet anew. The ladies dispersed… I went off to dine and encountered Werner.

“Aha!” he said. “There you are! I thought you wanted to become acquainted with the princess only while saving her from certain death?”

“I did better,” I replied to him. “I saved her from fainting at the ball!”

“How is that? Tell me!”

“No, guess—o you who thinks he can guess everything in the world!”

At around seven o’clock in the evening I was strolling along the boulevard. Grushnitsky, seeing me from a distance, walked up to me: some kind of amusing delight was shining in his eyes. He shook my hand tightly and said in a tragic voice:

“I thank you, Pechorin… Do you understand me?”

“No. But in any case, you needn’t thank me,” I replied, not having any good deed on my conscience.

“What? And yesterday? Have you forgotten?… Mary told me everything…”

“What? Do you now share everything? Gratitude too?”

“Listen,” said Grushnitsky very significantly, “please, don’t mock my love if you want to remain my friend… You see: I love her to distraction… and I think, I hope, that she loves me similarly… I have a request of you: that you will be their guest this evening. And promise me that you will observe everything. I know that you are experienced in these things. You know women better than I do… Women! Women! Who can fathom them? Their smiles contradict their gaze, their words promise and beckon, but the tone of their voices pushes you aside… Within one minute they can understand and anticipate our most secret thoughts, and then miss the clearest hints… Take the princess: yesterday her eyes burned with passion, and they rested on me. Today they are cloudy and cold…”

“This might be the effect of the waters,” I responded.

“You always think the worst… materialist!” he added disdainfully. “However, let us move on to other matters.”

And, satisfied with his bad pun, he cheered up.

At nine o’clock we went to the Princess Ligovsky together.

I saw Vera at the window when I walked past her windows. We threw each other a fugitive look. Soon after us, she came into the Ligovsky drawing room. The Princess Ligovsky introduced her to me as her relative. We drank tea; there were many guests; the conversation was commonplace. I strove to ingratiate myself to Princess Ligovsky, telling jokes, making her laugh heartily a few times; the young princess also wanted to laugh more than once but held herself back, in order not to depart from her accepted role. She finds that languor suits her—and perhaps she is not wrong. Grushnitsky, it seems, was very pleased that my jollity did not communicate itself to her.

After tea, everyone went to the hall.

“Are you satisfied with my obedience, Vera?” I said, walking past her.

She threw me a look, full of love and gratitude. I am used to these looks—they once formed my bliss. The Princess Ligovsky sat the young princess at the piano; everyone asked her to sing something. I stayed quiet and made use of this commotion by going to the window with Vera, who wanted to tell me something very important concerning us both… It came out as nonsense…