Netochka Nezvanova (Penguin ed.) Page 11

  ‘Come with me,’ said the Prince, taking her by the hand and leading her into his study. ‘Netochka, go upstairs.’ I wanted to rush over to him, I wanted to plead for Katya, but the Prince sternly repeated his order and I went upstairs, frozen and half-dead with fear. When I reached our room I collapsed on to the sofa and buried my head in my hands. I counted the minutes as I waited impatiently for Katya to return; I wanted to throw myself at her feet. When she did finally come, she walked straight past me and sat down in a corner. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were puffy from crying. All my resolve disappeared. I watched her in fear; I was too afraid to move.

  I did my utmost to blame myself and genuinely tried to persuade myself that it was all my fault. A thousand times I wanted to go to Katya, and a thousand times I hesitated, not knowing how she would react to me. Thus the second day passed. But on the third day, towards evening, Katya cheered up and started bowling her hoop around the room. This did not, however, last long, and she soon returned to her corner. Just before bedtime she suddenly turned towards me, took a step in my direction, and opened her mouth to say something – but she stopped short, turned round and went to bed. Another day went by in this fashion, and Madame Léotard began to grow concerned about Katya. She asked her why she was so white, and whether she was ill. Katya did not answer. She looked around for her shuttlecock, but as soon as she had turned away from Madame Léotard she blushed and began to cry, She ran out of the room so that I would not see her tears. In the end it all died down. Exactly three days after our argument, she suddenly appeared in the room and, approaching me with a certain diffidence, said: ‘Papa says I must ask your forgiveness. Do you forgive me?’ Breathless with excitement, I threw my arms around her.

  ‘Yes, yes, I do,’ I said.

  ‘Papa says I must kiss you. Will you give me a kiss?’ In reply, I started kissing her hands, smothering them in tears. When I looked at Katya I saw something I had never seen before. Her lips and her chin were quivering, and her eyes were moist; but in a short time she had overcome her agitation and, in a flash, a smile broke out on her lips.

  ‘I’ll go and tell Papa that I’ve kissed you and asked for your forgiveness,’ she said softly, as if she was reflecting. ‘I haven’t seen him for three days; he forbade me to go near his room until I’d done this,’ she added, after a pause. After saying this she went downstairs, timidly and thoughtfully, as if unsure of how her father would receive her.

  An hour later, the noise of laughter and shouting, followed by Falstaff’s barks, resounded from upstairs; then the clatter of something falling over and breaking, and books flying to the floor. When I once again heard the sound of her hoop spinning across the room, I knew that Katya had made things up with her father, and my heart began throbbing with joy.

  But she did not come near me and was evidently avoiding having to talk to me. Instead I was in the special position of having aroused her curiosity. She sat down opposite me where she could inspect me more closely and stared with increasing intensity. Her look became more naïve than ever. In short, this spoilt, wilful girl, who was fussed over and mollycoddled by everyone in the house, could not understand how I had more than once crossed her path when she had absolutely no wish to find me there. But she had a sweet and generous little heart, which always led her in the right direction, if only through instinct. The greatest influence over her was her father, whom she adored. Her mother loved her to distraction, but was terribly strict with her. It was from her that Katya had inherited her wilfulness, her pride and her powerful character. But her mother had whims which amounted to a kind of moral tyranny. The Princess had a rather peculiar notion of raising a child, and Katya’s upbringing was a strange combination of pampering and ruthless severity. What was permitted on one day was, for no given reason, forbidden the next. This outraged Katya’s concept of justice… But that story comes later. Let me just mention that she was already capable of distinguishing between her relations with her father and with her mother. With the former she was herself – open, frank and unarmed – while with her mother she was just the opposite – reticent, mistrustful but unquestioningly obedient. However, her obedience did not spring from conviction or sincerity, but was given merely because it belonged to the prescribed order of things. This I shall explain later. To be fair to Katya, I must say that she understood her mother and, in submitting to her, she was nevertheless fully aware of her boundless love. That this love was at times morbidly excessive was a circumstance of which Katya took full advantage. Alas, it was an advantage that was to prove of small assistance to the hot-headed little girl.

  But I could barely understand what was happening to me. Everything inside me seemed so disturbed by this new and unfamiliar emotion, and I am not exaggerating if I say that I suffered agonies from it and was torn apart by it. To be brief, and forgive me for what I am now about to say, I was in love with Katya. Yes, it was love, real love with all its ups and downs, real passionate love. What was it that attracted me to her? What had instigated such love? It began when I first set eyes on her, when all my emotions were sweetly aroused by the appearance of such a charming, angelic-looking child. Everything about her was so beautiful; none of her feelings was ingrained, but all had been implanted in her, and came out at moments of conflict. It was apparent to everyone that her original beauty had, with time, acquired a false form; but everything about her, from that conflict forward, glowed with gratifying hope, heralding a splendid future. It was not only I who loved and admired her, but everyone. When we went out for our three o’clock walk, passers-by used to stop in amazement, simply to look at her, and quite often exclamations of delight echoed after this fortunate child. She was born for happiness, she must have been; that was the first impression she gave. Perhaps what had first struck me was an aesthetic appreciation, an exquisite sensation of awakened beauty speaking for the first time, and therein lay the source of my increasing love.

  The little Princess’s main failing, or rather the aspect of her character which strove irrepressibly for embodiment in a natural form and which clearly found itself in decline when she was in a state of conflict, was her pride. This pride extended itself to innocent trifles and fell into egocentricity. If, for example, she met with any contradiction whatsoever, she was not so much offended or angered as surprised. She could not conceive of anything being other than what she wished it to be. Nevertheless, her sense of justice always conquered her heart’s instincts. When she was convinced that she was wrong, she conceded immediately and no more was heard or said. And if her attitude towards me changed during that period, I can best explain it as an incomprehensible antipathy to me that was troubling her equilibrium. It must have been that; she entered into her enthusiasms with too much passion, and she was ultimately led to the correct path by example and experience. The results of all her endeavours were beautiful and sincere, but they were achieved at the cost of continual deviation and error.

  Katya very soon satisfied her curiosity about me, and finally she decided to leave me in peace. She behaved as if I was not even living in the house and refused to address a single superfluous word to me. Indeed she hardly even offered the necessary words. I was excluded from all her games, but it was done so cunningly that it almost seemed that I had agreed to it. Our lessons followed their usual course and, if I was held up to her as an example of quick-wittedness and sobriety, I no longer had the honour of wounding her vanity, which was extremely delicate and could even be hurt by the bulldog, Sir John Falstaff. Falstaff was a cold-blooded, phlegmatic animal, but as fierce as a tiger when teased – fierce enough to defy his master. Another trait was that he definitely loved nobody; but his worst natural enemy was unquestionably the old Princess… However, that story comes later. Vain Katya tried everything possible to overcome Falstaff’s hostility. She did not like to think that there could be anyone in the house who did not recognize her authority, her power, and who did not bow to her and love her. And so she resolved to attack Falstaff herself. She wanted to
dominate and command everyone, so how could Falstaff refuse to comply? However, the stubborn bulldog refused to give in to her.

  One day, after lunch, when we were both sitting downstairs in the large hallway, the bulldog was stretched out in the middle of the room enjoying his afternoon nap. This was the precise moment that Katya took it into her head to conquer him with her will. And so she abandoned her game and crept over to him on tiptoe, beckoning him with coaxing gestures and calling him by fond pet names. But even before she managed to get near him, he bared his terrible fangs, and the Princess stopped. She had intended to go up to him and stroke him (something he permitted no one to do but Katya’s mother, to whom he belonged), and afterwards to persuade him to follow her, a difficult and risky task, since Falstaff would have no hesitation in biting her hand and tearing her to pieces if he felt the need. He was as strong as a bear, and I watched Katya’s manoeuvres, anxious and alarmed, from a distance. But it was hard to move her once she had decided on something, and the sight of Falstaff’s teeth, bared most uncivilly, was insufficient to deter her. When she realized the impossibility of reaching him directly, the Princess found herself in a quandary and began circling her enemy. Falstaff did not stir. Katya made a second attempt, reducing her circle. Then she went round him for the third time but, when she reached the point considered by Falstaff as a sacred territory, he bared his teeth again. The Princess stamped her feet, walked off and sat down, vexed and thoughtful, on the sofa.

  Ten minutes later she had devised a new method of seduction and quickly went out, returning with a handful of biscuits and cakes. In other words, she had changed her tactics. But Falstaff remained quite indifferent, probably because he had just eaten his fill. He did not even bother to look at the biscuit which she tossed at him. When the Princess. once again approached Falstaff’s forbidden boundary, there was opposition, this time stronger than before. Falstaff raised his head, bared his teeth and, with a growl, he began to move. The Princess flushed with anger, threw down the cakes and went back to her seat.

  She sat in extreme agitation, beating her feet against the carpet, her cheeks flaming like the sunset and her eyes brimming with tears of annoyance. She happened to look across at me, and it seemed that the blood rushed to her head. She sprang up and, with a distinctly determined step, walked straight up to the fierce dog.

  Perhaps astonishment had too powerful an effect on Falstaff this time. He allowed his enemy to cross the boundary, and not until Katya was just a few steps away did he greet the foolish girl with a vicious snarl. Katya stopped short for a moment, and then advanced with determination. I was shivering with fear. I had never seen her so excited; her eyes were flashing with victory and triumph. She would have made a wonderful picture: she stood her ground so boldly before the menacing glare of the infuriated bulldog and did not flinch at the sight of his jaws. He sat up, and a horrible growl came from his hairy belly; another moment and he would have torn her to shreds. But with a majestic gesture the Princess put her little hand on his back and gave him three triumphant strokes. For an instant the dog seemed uncertain. That was the most alarming moment; then all at once he moved. Raising himself laboriously to his feet, stretching himself and probably deciding that it was not worth wasting his time with children, he walked calmly out of the room. The Princess proudly took her position on the conquered territory and looked at me with strange eyes; joyous and giddy with victory. Noticing that I was as white as a sheet, she smiled. But suddenly her cheeks turned deathly white and, hardly able to reach the sofa, she sank down in a near-faint.

  My infatuation for Katya already knew no bounds. From that day, when I experienced such great fear on her behalf, I was no longer in control of myself. I pined with love for her, and thousands of times I was on the verge of throwing my arms around her neck, but fear would root me to the spot. I remember that I tried to avoid her so that she would not see my agitation. Once she unexpectedly entered the room where I was hiding. I was very upset, and my heart throbbed so painfully that I felt dizzy. I believed that the little imp noticed this, and for a day or two seemed to be in a state of confusion herself. However, she soon reconciled herself to this state of affairs. A whole month passed, for the course of which I continued to suffer in silence. My feelings were characterized by unbelievable powers of endurance, if one may express it in such a way. My character is notable for its high capacity for suffering, and only in moments of crisis does any sudden manifestation of feeling occur. It should be remembered that throughout this period I had barely exchanged half a dozen words with Katya, but from certain elusive signs I very slowly began to notice that this was not so much due to her forgetfulness or indifference to me as to her deliberate avoidance of me, as if she had promised herself to keep me at a certain distance. For my part, I could no longer sleep at night, and during the day I was unable to conceal my confusion from Madame Léotard. My love for Katya verged on the abnormal. On one occasion I secretly stole one of her handkerchiefs, and on another a piece of ribbon that she used for tying her hair, and I used to kiss them all night long, wiping my tears with them. In the beginning I had been hurt and even mortified by Katya’s indifference, but then everything became cloudy and I could not rationalize my feelings. In this way, new impressions gradually crowded out the old ones, and the memories of my gruesome past lost their crippling power and were replaced by a new life.

  I remember sometimes waking up in the night, getting out of bed and tiptoeing over to the Princess, and in the dim light of our night lamp standing there for hours, gazing as she slept. Sometimes I sat down on the bed beside her and, bending down, I felt her warm breath on my face. Silently, and trembling with fear, I would kiss her hands, her hair, her shoulders, and her little feet, if they were peeping out of the blankets. Gradually I began to notice, for I had not let her out of my sight for a whole month, that Katya was becoming more thoughtful by the day. She was beginning to lose her even temper: sometimes not a sound was heard from her all day, while at other times she raised an unprecedented racket. She became irritable and demanding; she frequently blushed and lost her temper, and even began performing little acts of cruelty on me. All of a sudden she would refuse to sit next to me at dinner, as if I repelled her; or she would unexpectedly go and see her mother and spend all day with her, knowing well that I was pining in her absence; or she would stare at me for hours, until I did not know what to do with myself for embarrassment, and I would blush and turn pale by turns, never daring to get up and leave the room. On two occasions Katya complained of feeling feverish, although she had never been known to suffer from any kind of illness before. Then, one morning, special arrangements were made. At her express wish, the little Princess was being moved downstairs to the apartments of her mother, whose hair had almost turned white when she heard of Katya’s complaint of feeling unwell. It must be pointed out that Katya’s mother was exceedingly displeased with me and with the changes she noticed in her daughter, which she ascribed to me and to the influence of what she called my sullen nature. She would have separated us long before, but she had postponed it for the time being, knowing that she would have to endure a serious argument with the Prince, who, though usually yielding to her in everything, could at times be very adamant. She understood the Prince perfectly.

  I was stunned by the Princess’s move and spent a whole week in a state of heartbroken agitation. I was tormented with grief and racked my brain for the cause of Katya’s dislike. My heart was torn with sorrow and indignation, and a sense of injustice rose up in my wounded heart. I developed a sort of pride, and when Katya and I met for our daily walk I looked at her so seriously and independently, so differently from ever before, that she was quite astonished. These changes in me only occurred sporadically, and of course my heart ached more and more afterwards. I grew weaker and feebler than ever. Finally one morning, to my amazement, the little Princess came back upstairs. The first thing she did was to fling herself around Madame Leotard’s neck with a shout of wild glee. Then she announ
ced she had returned to us. After nodding at me, she begged to be excused from her lesson that day and proceeded to spend all the morning frolicking and prancing about. I had never before seen her so lively and happy. But towards evening she grew quiet and dreamy, and again a look of sadness clouded her charming little face. When her mother came up to see her in the evening, I could see that Katya was making an unnatural effort to appear cheerful. But as soon as her mother had gone, she broke into tears. I was bewildered. When she saw my concern, the Princess left the room. In short, some sort of unseen crisis was brewing up inside her. Her mother consulted doctors, sent for Madame Léotard every day to question her in minute detail about her daughter, and gave instructions for a constant watch to be kept over her. I alone sensed the truth, and my heart throbbed in hope.

  In reality, the little romance was unfolding and drawing to an end. The third day after Katya’s return upstairs, she kept looking at me all morning with a lovely sparkle in her eyes and with a long, penetrating gaze… Several times I met her look, and each time we both blushed and lowered our eyes, as if ashamed. At last the Princess broke into a laugh and walked off. The clock struck three, and we had to dress ourselves for our walk. Katya suddenly came up to me.

  ‘Your shoelace is undone,’ she said. ‘Let me tie it for you.’ I started bending down to tie it myself, blushing red as a cherry because Katya had at last spoken to me.

  ‘Let me do it!’ she said impatiently, and laughed. She bent down and, taking hold of my foot firmly, she placed it on her knee and tied my shoe. I sighed deeply; I was beside myself with a sort of sweet terror. When the shoe was tied she stood up, examining me from head to foot.

  ‘Your throat is not covered,’ she said, gently touching my bare neck with her little finger. ‘There! Let me wrap it up.’ I made no objection as she untied my kerchief and tied it again in her own way. ‘Otherwise you may get a cough,’ she said with a mischievous smile, her misty black eyes twinkling at me.