Mikhail Lermontov - A Hero of Our Time

I noticed that one of the houses in the village which had been built on the brink of a gully was unusually brightly lit, and every now and then I could hear a babble of voices and shouting which meant a military carousal. I dismounted and crept up to the window. A loose shutter made it possible for me to see the revelers and overhear what they were saying. They were talking about me.

The captain of dragoons, red-faced with wine, pounded the table with his fist to command attention.

"Gentlemen!" he said. "This won't do at all. Pechorin must be taught a lesson. These Petersburg upstarts get uppity until they're rapped on the knuckles! Just because he always wears clean gloves and shiny boots he thinks he's the only society man around."

"And that supercilious smile of his! Yet I'm certain he's a coward-yes, a coward!"

"I believe so too," said Grushnitsky. "He turns everything into a joke. Once I told him off in such terms that another man would have cut me down on the spot, but Pechorin just laughed it off. I, of course, didn't challenge him, because it was up to him to do so; besides I didn't want the bother..."

"Grushnitsky has it in for him because he got ahead of him with the young princess," said someone.

"What nonsense! True, I did run after the princess a bit, but I gave it up soon enough because I have no desire to marry and I do not believe in compromising a girl."

"Yes, I assure you he is a coward of the first water-Pechorin, I mean, not Grushnitsky. Grushnitsky is a fine man and a good friend of mine to boot!" said the captain of dragoons. "Gentlemen! Does anyone here want to stand up for him? No one? All the better! Do you wish to test his courage? It will be amusing…"

"Yes, we do. But how?"

"Now listen to me: since Grushnitsky's grievance is the biggest, his will be the leading role. He will take exception to some trifle and challenge Pechorin to a duel... Wait, this is the point... He will challenge Pechorin-so far so good! Everything, the challenge, the preparations and the conditions will be made in as solemn and formidable a fashion as possible-I will take care of that, for I'll be your second, my poor friend! Very well! Now this is the trick: we won't load the pistols. I give you my word, Pechorin will show the cowardly white feather-six paces from one another, I'll place them, damn it! Are you agreeable, gentlemen?"

"Grand idea, splendid! What fun!" came from all sides.

"And you, Grushnitsky?"

I awaited Grushnitsky's reply with a little fear. A cold fury gripped me at the thought that mere chance had saved me from being made the butt of these fools' jest. Had Grushnitsky not agreed to it, I would have flung my arms around him. After a brief silence, however, he rose from his seat, extended his hand to the captain and said very pompously: "Very well, I agree."

The elation of the whole honorable company defies description.

I returned home a prey to two conflicting emotions. One was sadness. "Why do they all hate me?" I thought. "Why? Had I offended anybody? No. Can it be that I am one of those whose mere appearance excites ill will?" And I felt a poisonous wrath gradually take possession of me. "Take care, Mr. Grushnitsky," I said to myself as I paced up and down the room, "you cannot trifle thus with me. You might have to pay dearly for the approval of your stupid friends. I am not a toy for you to play with!…"

I lay awake all night. In the morning I looked as yellow as a wild orange.

Early in the day I met Princess Mary at the spring.

"Are you sick?" she asked, looking at me intently.

"I didn't sleep all night."

"Neither did I... I blamed you... unjustly perhaps? But if you'd only explain, I could forgive you everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes, everything... Only you have to tell the truth... be quick... You see, I've gone over it again and again, trying to find some explanation that would justify your conduct. Perhaps you fear opposition on the part of my relatives? You don't have to worry about that; when they hear of it"-her voice trembled-"I'll persuade them. Or perhaps it's your own position... but I want you to know that I'm capable of sacrificing everything for the sake of the man I love... Oh, answer me quickly-have pity on me... Tell me, you don't despise me, do you?"

She held my hand.

Princess Ligovskaya was walking ahead of us with Vera's husband and saw nothing. But we could have been observed by the strolling convalescents, and they are the most inquisitive of all inquisitive gossips, so I quickly disengaged my hand from her passionate hold.

"I will tell you the whole truth," I said, "without trying to justify myself or to explain my actions. I do not love you."

Her lips paled slightly.

"Leave me," she said in a barely audible voice. I shrugged my shoulders, turned, and walked away.

Sometimes I despise myself; is that why I despise others too? I am no longer capable of noble impulses; I am afraid of appearing ridiculous to myself. Another in my place would have offered the princess son coeur et sa fortune but for me the verb "to marry" has an ominous ring: no matter how passionately I might love a woman, it's farewell to love if she as much as hints at my marrying her. My heart turns to stone, and nothing can warm it again. I'd make any sacrifice but this-twenty times I can stake my life, even my honor, but my freedom I'll never sell. Why do I prize it so much? What do I find in it? What am I aiming at? What have I to expect from the future? Nothing, absolutely nothing. It's some innate fear, an inexplicable foreboding... After all, some people have an unreasoning fear of spiders, cockroaches, mice... Shall I confess? When I was still a child, some old woman told my fortune for my mother, predicting that I'd die through a wicked wife. It made a deep impression on me at the time, and an insuperable abhorrence for marriage grew within me. And yet something tells me that her prophecy will come true-but at least I'll do my best to put off its fulfilment for as long as possible.

Apfelbaum, the conjurer, arrived here yesterday. A long poster appeared on the restaurant doors informing the worthy public that the above-named amazing magician, acrobat, chemist and optician would have the honor to present a magnificent spectacle this day at eight o'clock in the evening in the hall of the Nobles' Club (in other words, the restaurant); admission two rubles and a half.

Everybody intends to go and see the amazing conjurer. Even Princess Ligovskaya has taken a ticket for herself, although her daughter is sick.

As I was walking past Vera's windows today after dinner-she was sitting on the balcony alone-a note fell at my feet:

Come tonight at ten o'clock in the evening by the main staircase; my husband has gone to Pyatigorsk and will not be back until tomorrow morning. My menservants and chambermaids will not be in: I gave them all, as well as the princess's servants, tickets to the show. I will wait for you; come without fail.

"Aha!" thought I. "At last things are going my way."

At eight o'clock I went to see the conjurer. It was nearly nine when the audience had assembled and the performance began. In the back rows I recognized the lackeys and chambermaids of both Vera and Princess Ligovskaya. They were all accounted for. Grushnitsky was sitting in the first row with his opera glass. The conjurer turned to him each time he needed a handkerchief, watch, ring or the like.

Grushnitsky has not bowed to me for some time, and now he eyed me rather insolently once or twice. He will be sorry for it all when the time comes to settle scores.

It was nearly ten when I rose and went out.

It was pitch dark outside. Heavy, chill clouds lay on the summits of the surrounding mountains, and only now and then did the dying breeze rustle the tops of the poplars around the restaurant. People were crowding round the windows. I went down the hill and, after turning into the gate, walked faster. Suddenly I felt that someone was following me. I stopped and looked around. It was too dark to see anything, but for the sake of caution I walked around the house as if merely out for a stroll. As I passed Princess Mary's windows I again heard footsteps behind me, and a man wrapped in a overcoat ran past me. This worried me-nevertheless I crept up to the porch and hurried up the dark staircase. The door opened, a little hand grabbed mine...