CHAPTER IV
PETOFI WITH US--PLANS FOR THE FUTURE--THE RAPE OF THE BRIDES--AMATEURTHEATRICALS--MY MENSHIKOV
I really imagined that I loved and was beloved. I was always a welcomeguest at her ladyship's house, and was a regular visitor on her "athome" days. On such occasions I learnt to know Bessy from another pointof view. She was a musician also. She could play the fiddle. Whether sheplayed artistically I really cannot say, for I don't understand music,and couldn't tell the difference between Paul Racz[17] and Sarasate; butso much is certain, she knew all the cunning tricks and poses which Iadmired so much in the famous musicians of a later day. She could makearpeggios and pizzicatos like Ole Bull, _fughe di diavolo_ like Remenyi,and pianissimos like Sarasate. She could make her fiddle weep softlylike Milanollo and Miss Terezina Tua, and she could lash it savagelywith her fiddle-bow like the Russian Princess Olga Korinshka, or playwith the instrument close up to ear like a gipsy _primas_.[18] When sheplayed she had the beauty of a demon; every limb was set in motion, hershoulders marked time, her bosom heaved, her body waved to and fro, hermouth smiled provocatively, her eyes sparkled; at one moment she softlycaressed the fiddle with her bow, at another she flogged the stringsunmercifully, and at the end of the performance she stood there with thepose of a triumphant Toreadrix. At such moments every one was fascinatedby her; why, then, should I have been an exception?
[Footnote 17: A famous gipsy musician.]
[Footnote 18: The leader of a gipsy band.]
One day I got a letter from Petofi, in which he informed me he was goingto call upon us the following Sunday. I naturally skipped off to town atonce, and showed the letter to all my acquaintances. It was a greatevent in our little town. Petofi's popularity in those days was greatindeed; he was worshipped from one end of the kingdom to the other. Hisvisit was regarded as an extraordinary distinction. On Sunday afternoon,therefore, half the population of the town had assembled on the island,where the landing-stage of the steamers now is. Bessy's family was alsothere. All the religious persuasions were represented by the presence ofthe Benedictine priests and the Calvinist and Lutheran ministers. Thecaptain of the civic train bands, with two lackeys in gold liveries;represented the magistracy; and Muki Bagotay was there on behalf of thecounty (he held some petty office or other), and maintained that he knewPetofi very well. Congratulatory speeches had been got ready, andlovely hands were to present handsome bouquets to the coming guest.Petofi, however, when he had crossed over the steamship bridge to theother side, troubled himself not one bit about the congratulatory mob,left in the lurch the lovely ladies with their bouquets, and thedistinguished gentlemen with their speeches, and, dressed as he was inhis short _carbonari_ mantle, rushed straight towards me, threw his armsround my neck, knocked my hat from my head, and cried, "Why, Marksi! Isit you, you old scoundrel, Marksi!" (he never would call me by my propername), and, with that, wrapping me in one-half of his mantle, he draggedme with him towards the town just as if he knew the way quite well (hehad never been there before in his life). The windows of the chiefthoroughfares of the town were adorned with flowers and with fairdamsels, who had tricked themselves out in Petofi's honour, which, whenhe perceived, he thrust me down a side street, and so we got at last toour house by roundabout by-paths, on which we met not a single soul. Myworthy mother received our dear guest most heartily, not because he wassuch a famous poet, but because he was my good friend. I had known himever since we had been students together at Papa, when they had calledhim "Petrovics." Now, however, they added a syllable to his name, andcalled him "Petrekovics." Nothing used to put Petofi into such a rageas when anybody called him by his rejected family name. But even thishe took in good part from my mother. He never even tried to put herright. "Let me always remain Petrekovics in your house!" he would say toher, as he kissed her hand. This was by no means his usual custom, theonly other person whose hand he used to kiss was his own mother. Thefirst question after that naturally was about his favourite dish. Mymother herself looked after the _cuisine_, and the following day thewhole family assembled to dinner--my brother Charles, my sister Esther,and my brother-in-law Francis Valy included.
We had scarcely risen from the table when a lackey in silver liveryarrived from Bessy's mother with a gold-edged letter for Petofi, inwhich her ladyship invited him to her "at home" that evening. Theentertainment was arranged in his honour. All the beauties and thenotabilities of the town would be there together. I had naturallyreceived a similar invitation some days before.
'Twas thus that Petofi answered the messenger--his words are recorded inthe family records: "Tell her ladyship that I am inconsolable at theimpossibility of coming to her reception this evening; but this time Ihave come specially to visit my beloved Marksi, and will go nowhereelse."
The astonished lackey could scarcely grasp the meaning of this terriblereply. But my mother understood it right well, and said, "Noble youngfellow!"
But I said nothing, for I candidly confess that in those days Iworshipped a pretty girl far, far more than any man however famous, orany friend however good.
I tried, therefore, to explain the situation to my good friend. "I tellyou what, though; that pretty girl is there about whom I wrote to you."
"Then give _yourself_ up to that pretty girl, but don't sacrifice _me_to her likewise."
"If you could only hear how splendidly she plays the fiddle."
"Fiddle, do you say? Then don't give yourself up to her either! You knowthere are three things in this world that I hate--horse-radish withmilk, the critics, and after that, music." (He could never be persuadedto listen to an opera.)
"But Tony Varady also plays the fiddle!" (I should explain that thisyoung lawyer shared Petofi's room with him.)
"He fiddles, it is true, but it is useful to me."
"How so?"
"In our neighbourhood dwells a rascally card-player, who comes homeevery night between two and three, and begins to sing. I immediatelywake Tony and say to him, 'Rise, and fiddle away at that fellow there!'Then he begins to fiddle in a way that makes your hair stand on end, andyour blood run cold, and in ten minutes our neighbour, falling upon hisknees, sobs for mercy, and declares that he will leave off singing.However, from to-day I live no longer with Tony."
"Have you quarrelled?"
"On the contrary, we are the best of friends. But I'll tell you aboutthat later on; let us now talk about serious things. What have you beendoing since I last saw you?"
I showed him the MS. of "Hetkoznapok."[19] It was just ready.
[Footnote 19: "Every-day Days." One of the best, if not _the_ best, ofJokai's earlier works.]
"Why do you call it 'Hetkoznapok'?"
"In order that nobody may expect anything extraordinary in it."
He turned over the leaves, but only read the headings of the chapters.
"Well, that was an original idea of yours, I must say, to choose mottoesfrom popular ballads for your chapter headings. I'll take this with meto Pest, and get it published."
"Nobody knows me."
"You're wrong. Bajza and Vorosmarty are inquiring about you. Yourspecimen composition has been much approved. I've squeezed twelveflorins for it out of Emericus Vahot. Frankenburg was more liberal. Hesends you fifteen for 'The Island Nepean.'"
And Petofi counted out the twenty-seven silver florins on to the table.It was my first honorarium. I fancied myself a Rothschild.
"This romance now shall be published by Hartleben."
"Are you on good terms with him?"
"I don't know the German fellow, but he's the publisher of IgnatiusNagy's romances, and Nagy shall recommend it to him."
"But will Ignatius Nagy like to do it?"
"What! When I bring him such work as yours! He is a great enemy of mine,I know, but he is a man of honour."
And with that he thrust my manuscript into his knapsack, but withoutlocking it.
"And what else have you written?"
I produced another heap of papers.
"A play
entitled _Two Guardians_."
"And what do you want to do with it?"
"To compete for the Academy prize."
"Don't do that! I won't allow you. You competed once, and they did notgive you the prize, and yet two Academicians were on your side; don'tgive them any more. Give your pieces to the theatre."
I had nothing for it but to surrender.
"Now, I'll take your piece to Szigligeti.[20] He will at once recognisein you a dangerous rival, and for that very reason will have your piecebrought out instantly. That's the sort of man he is!"
[Footnote 20: Pseudonym of the eminent Hungarian dramatist, JosephSzathmary.]
I entrusted my piece to his care.
"And try to get up to Pest as soon as possible. Don't go loafing aboutall your days in a village!"
"As soon as I have got through with my _patvaria_ I'll hasten to joinyou."
"Get ready to go away at once. To-morrow I'll take you with me to Gran."
I was greatly astonished.
"To Gran! Why, what business have we there?"
"We go not to do business, but to _rob_. We must steal away TonyVarady's bride for him. That is why we no longer live together."
But now the members of my family had also a word to say.
Petofi then related, quite calmly, that our common friend, the worthylawyer, wished to take to wife the daughter of a landed proprietor atGran. The girl's parents were Catholics, the bridegroom was a Calvinist,they therefore would not permit the marriage. But the young peoplereally loved each other. So there was nothing for it but to steal thebride.
The thing was quite clear. I could make no objection. When a man is poetand Protestant, girl-stealing in such a situation becomes a duty. Justthen a great parliamentary strife was going on concerning mixedmarriages. It was Guelph and Ghibelline over again. One had to chooseone's party.
So on the following day I really did set out with Petofi to steal a girlfor the benefit of a third friend. The affair succeeded beyond allexpectation. We had no need of the darkness of midnight and scalingladders, the mere appearance of Petofi and myself at the bride's housewas sufficient; the parents gave way, and the priest united the twolovers. Yet for all that we always made much of our damsel-robbingadventure. And, indeed, it seemed likely to turn out a dangerousprecedent. Example is contagious.
But I returned home with the guilty consciousness that I had absolutelyspoiled the _soiree_. I expected that I should be pretty severely takento task for it. How should I put things to rights again?
I discovered how to make amends, but it was not without great artfulnessthat I succeeded.
Our city was not only the capital of the county, but a fortress.Consequently one might frequently come upon vehicles in our streetswhich consisted of little more than a round chest on two wheels, crammedfull of water-butts from the Danube, ammunition, bread, and sacks ofmeal, and between the poles of these conveyances were fastened a coupleof human beings in garments of grey baize, with twenty-pound chainsfastened to their legs. The creatures were called in plainHungarian--slaves.[21] You could hear the rattling of their fettersfrom afar. On certain days while the self-same creatures were sufferingthe flogging with sticks, which was part of their sentence, their wofulcries resounded through the whole town. Thus the rattling of chains andthe howls of woe were a sort of speciality in our town. And the sight ofthose starved faces too! From my childish years upwards this slave-lifeused to disturb my dreams.
[Footnote 21: They were prisoners condemned to penal servitude.]
I got up an agitation among the more enthusiastic of the youths andmaidens of our town on behalf of the poor slaves. If the affair hadsucceeded, I should of course never have bragged about it; but as Ifailed in it, I may as well make a clean breast of it.
It was determined, at my suggestion, to invite Bessy's mother to be thepresident of our philanthropic society. A deputation set off at once toher house, and, naturally, I was its spokesman. The distinction thusconferred upon her quite wiped out my former offence, and I was againtaken into favour.
The first problem in any case was to establish our beneficent scheme ona sound, financial basis, and the simplest way of getting funds was bymeans of an amateur entertainment. Of this, too, I was the manager. Withvery great difficulty the programme was finally settled. Overture:_Beatrice di Tenda_.--"What's the watchword? Death, torture, ruin, tothe betrayers of the fatherland!" rendered by the glee club of theCollege. After that a flute duet from _Lucia di Lammermoor_, piped bythe local musical society and a young lawyer. That was to be followed bya humorous recitation of my own: "Gregory Sonkolyi"; then came anexhibition of legerdemain by Muki Bagotay; and last of all, as _piece deresistance_, Bessy's fiddling.
It was a terrible business to bring all this about. We had rehearsalsevery day at Bessy's house. I was very busy just then. I ought to havebeen working as an articled clerk, but I'm quite sure I never looked ata law-book. At last, however, it was possible to fix the day on whichthe concert would come off.
Meanwhile, the time was approaching when I ought to have passed my_patvaria_, and gone through my _jurateria_. My elder brother Charleswrote to a well-known lawyer at Pest, who had a large practice, to takeme into his office as a juratus. And as winter was also drawing nigh,and I was about to go far, far away into a strange world, my good andever-blessed mother was busying herself about my outfit. Nowadays peoplewill regard it as a fable, but say it I must, that all the linen I woreduring the time when I was a juratus was spun by my mother's own hands.I verily believe that that shirt, spun by a mother's hand, and worn byme, was the magic web which turned aside so many of the blows of fate.
A tailor and a weaver lived in some of the smaller houses we possessed;we had no need of the help of strangers. My mother also provided me witha good winter overcoat.
It was really a capital overcoat, which covered me down to the veryheels, a real Menshikov overcoat, very fashionable forty years later,but in those days worn by nobody but the porters of the BenedictineOrder.
When I appeared at the amateur rehearsals at Bessy's house in thisprematurely born Menshikov, a circle was instantly formed round me, andevery one asked me, with ironical congratulations, where I had had itmade. Was it possible to get the fellow of it? Bessy even remarked thatthere was room for two in it, and I was not a bit offended with her.
When I withdrew (a letter, just arrived from Pest, called me home), Iscarcely had time to close the door behind me, when I heard an outburstof merriment inside. When, however, I had got out into the street andturned round to have a last look at the house I had left behind me, loand behold! all the windows were filled with groups of smiling faces,amongst which I saw Bessy's face also. "They are all in a very goodhumour to-day," I thought to myself.
Hastening home, I found there the letter from the Pest lawyer, in whichhe informed me, with official brevity, that there was a vacant place fora juratus in his office, which I might occupy. If, however, I did notcome and claim it within three days, the vacant place would be given tosome one else. The amateur entertainment had been fixed for Sunday, andit was now Tuesday. If I am not there by Friday, another will sit in myplace. But what will become of the concert? Ought I to leave Bessy inthe lurch--so faithlessly?
And how about the poor slaves?
Perhaps the lawyer at Pest would make a bargain with me and give me acouple of days' grace? I sat down to reply to him: "Worshipful Mr.Advocate--I feel in duty bound to say, in reply to your honourablecommunication----" Yes, but what? I must tell him some lie or other.Nay, not a lie, only a freak of fancy. A sudden illness? No, that's nojoke. An uncompleted piece of law business, which I must finish for myold chief? The Pest lawyer will never believe that. What pretext could Ihit upon to steal a little more time?
While I was still biting my pen, my mother came into the room, and saidto me: "Where have you been, my dear son?"
I said I had been at Bessy's house.
Then she said: "Now, tell me, my darling, why do you run after thesegreat p
eople? Don't you see that they are only making fun of you?"
Something like a cold ague fit ran down my back.
Hadn't I myself seen and heard them laugh at me, and didn't know it? andhere was my mother who had neither seen nor heard it, and yet _she_ knewit!
Not another word did I say, but I went on with my letter ... "that Iwill come to Pest at once to-morrow morning, and take the place ofjuratus offered by you."
I then showed my mother both letters, whereupon she rewarded me withthat blessed smile of hers which has made her face so unforgettable tome.
She immediately packed up my belongings and placed in my hand whatlittle money she had put by, so that I might not want for anything inthe expensive capital. I wanted to write to Bessy with an apology for mysudden departure.
"Don't go scribbling to them," said my mother; "I'll go myself to-morrowto her ladyship and tell her what has happened."
The following afternoon I was sitting on the steamer, and in three daysI arrived at Pest.... And for this sudden change of fortune I had tothank my Menshikov alone.