Produced by Hanh Vu and Douglas Levy
MARIE
A Story of Russian Love
By Alexander Pushkin
Translated by Marie H. de Zielinska
CONTENTS.
I. THE SERGEANT OF THE GUARDS. II. THE GUIDE. III. THE FORTRESS. IV. THE DUEL. V. LOVE. VI. POUGATCHEFF. VII. THE ASSAULT. VIII. THE UNEXPECTED VISIT. IX. THE SEPARATION. X. THE SIEGE. XI. THE REBEL CAMP. XII. MARIE. XIII. THE ARREST. XIV. THE SENTENCE.
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.
Alexander Pushkin, the most distinguished poet of Russia, was born atSaint Petersburg, 1799. When only twenty-one years of age he enteredthe civil service in the department of foreign affairs. Lord Byron'swritings and efforts for Greek independence exercised great influenceover Pushkin, whose "Ode to Liberty" cost him his freedom. He was exiledto Bessarabia [A region of Moldova and western Ukraine] from 1820 to1825, whence he returned at the accession of the new emperor, Nicholas,who made him historiographer of Peter the Great. Pushkin's friendsnow looked upon him as a traitor to the cause of liberty. It is notimprobable that an enforced residence at the mouth of the Danubesomewhat cooled his patriotic enthusiasm. Every Autumn, his favoriteseason for literary production, he usually passed at his country seatin the province Pekoff. Here from 1825 to 1829 he published "Pultowa,""Boris Godunoff," "Eugene Onegin," and "Ruslaw and Ludmila," a talein verse, after the Manner of Ariosto's "Orlando Furioso." This isconsidered as the first great poetical work in the Russian language,though the critics of the day attacked it, because it was beyond theirgrasp; but the public devoured it.
In 1831 Pushkin married, and soon after appeared his charming novel,"Marie," a picture of garrison life on the Russian plains. Peter andMarie of this Northern story are as pure as their native snows, andwhilst listening to the recital, we inhale the odor of the steppe, andcatch glimpses of the semi-barbarous Kalmouk and the Cossack of the Don.
A duel with his brother-in-law terminated the life of Pushkin in thesplendor of his talent. The emperor munificently endowed the poet'sfamily, and ordered a superb edition of all his works to be published atthe expense of the crown. His death was mourned by his countrymen as anational calamity. M. H. de Z.
Chicago, Nov. 1, 1876.
MARIE.
I. THE SERGEANT OF THE GUARDS.
My father, Andrew Peter Grineff, having served in his youth under CountMunich, left the army in 17--, with the grade of First Major. From thattime he lived on his estate in the Principality of Simbirsk, where hemarried Avoditia, daughter of a poor noble in the neighborhood. Ofnine children, the issue of this marriage, I was the only survivor. Mybrothers and sisters died in childhood.
Through the favor of a near relative of ours, Prince B---, himselfa Major in the Guards, I was enrolled Sergeant of the Guards in theregiment of Semenofski. It was understood that I was on furlough till myeducation should be finished. From my fifth year I was confided to thecare of an old servant Saveliitch, whose steadiness promoted him to therank of my personal attendant. Thanks to his care, when I was twelveyears of age I knew how to read and write, and could make a correctestimate of the points of a hunting dog.
At this time, to complete my education, my father engaged upon a salarya Frenchman, M. Beaupre, who was brought from Moscow with one year'sprovision of wine and oil from Provence. His arrival of coursedispleased Saveliitch.
Beaupre had been in his own country a valet, in Prussia a soldier, thenhe came to Russia to be a tutor, not knowing very well what the wordmeant in our language. He was a good fellow, astonishingly gay andabsent-minded. His chief foible was a passion for the fair sex. Nor washe, to use his own expression, an enemy to the bottle--that is to say,_a la Russe_, he loved drink. But as at home wine was offered only attable, and then in small glasses, and as, moreover, on these occasions,the servants passed by the pedagogue, Beaupre soon accustomed himselfto Russian brandy, and, in time, preferred it, as a better tonic, tothe wines of his native country. We became great friends, and althoughaccording to contract he was engaged to teach me French, German, and_all the sciences_, yet he was content that I should teach him tochatter Russian. But as each of us minded his own business, ourfriendship was constant, and I desired no mentor. However, destiny verysoon separated us, in consequence of an event which I will relate.
Our laundress, a fat girl all scarred by small-pox, and our dairymaid,who was blind of an eye, agreed, one fine day, to throw themselves at mymother's feet and accuse the Frenchman of trifling with their innocenceand inexperience!
My mother would have no jesting upon this point, and she in turncomplained to my father, who, like a man of business, promptly ordered"that dog of a Frenchman" into his presence. The servant informed himmeekly that Beaupre was at the moment engaged in giving me a lesson.
My father rushed to my room. Beaupre was sleeping upon his bed the sleepof innocence. I was deep in a most interesting occupation. They hadbrought from Moscow, for me, a geographical map, which hung unusedagainst the wall; the width and strength of its paper had been to mea standing temptation. I had determined to make a kite of it, andprofiting that morning by Beaupre's sleep, I had set to work. My fathercame in just as I was tying a tail to the Cape of Good Hope! Seeingmy work, he seized me by the ear and shook me soundly; then rushing toBeaupre's bed, awakened him without hesitating, pouring forth a volleyof abuse upon the head of the unfortunate Frenchman. In his confusionBeaupre tried in vain to rise; the poor pedagogue was dead drunk! Myfather caught him by the coat-collar and flung him out of the room. Thatday he was dismissed, to the inexpressible delight of Saveliitch.
Thus ended my education. I now lived in the family as the eldest son,not of age whose career is yet to open; amusing myself teaching pigeonsto tumble on the roof, and playing leap-frog in the stable-yard with thegrooms. In this way I reached my sixteenth year.
One Autumn day, my mother was preserving fruit with honey in the familyroom, and I, smacking my lips, was looking at the liquid boiling; myfather, seated near the window, had just opened the _Court Almanac_which he received every year. This book had great influence over him; heread it with extreme attention, and reading prodigiously stirred up hisbile. My mother, knowing by heart all his ways and oddities, used to tryto hide the miserable book, and often whole months would pass without asight of it. But, in revenge whenever he did happen to find it, he wouldsit for hours with the book before his eyes.
Well, my father was reading the _Court Almanac_, frequently shrugginghis shoulders, and murmuring: "'General!' Umph, he was a sergeant inmy company. 'Knight of the Orders of Russia.' Can it be so long sincewe--?"
Finally he flung the _Almanac_ away on the sofa and plunged into deepthought; a proceeding that never presaged anything good.
"Avoditia," said he, brusquely, to my mother, "how old is Peter?"
"His seventeenth precious year has just begun," said my mother. "Peterwas born the year Aunt Anastasia lost her eye, and that was--"
"Well, well," said my father, "it is time he should join the army. It ishigh time he should give up his nurse, leap-frog and pigeon training."
The thought of a separation so affected my poor mother that she let thespoon fall into the preserving pan, and tears rained from her eyes.
As for me, it is difficult to express my joy. The idea of army servicewas mingled in my head with that of liberty, and the pleasures offeredby a great city like Saint Petersburg. I saw myself an officer in theGuards, which, in my opinion was the height of felicity.
As my father neither liked to change his plans, nor delay theirexecution, the day of my departure was instantly fixed. That evening,saying that he would give me a letter t
o my future chief, he called forwriting materials.
"Do not forget, Andrew," said my mother, "to salute for me Prince B.Tell him that I depend upon his favor for my darling Peter."
"What nonsense," said my father, frowning, "why should I write to PrinceB.?"
"You have just said that you would write to Peter's future chief."
"Well, what then?"
"Prince B. is his chief. You know very well that Peter is enrolled inthe Semenofski regiment."
"Enrolled! what's that to me? Enrolled or not enrolled, he shall not goto Saint Petersburg. What would he learn there? Extravagance and folly.No! let him serve in the army, let him smell powder, let him be asoldier and not a do-nothing in the Guards; let him wear the straps ofhis knapsack out. Where is the certificate of his birth and baptism?"
My mother brought the certificate, which she kept in a little box withmy baptismal robe, and handed it to my father. He read it, placed itbefore him on the table, and commenced his letter.
I was devoured by curiosity. Where am I going, thought I, if not toSaint Petersburg? I did not take my eyes from the pen which my fathermoved slowly across the paper.
At last, the letter finished, he put it and my certificate under thesame envelope, took off his spectacles, called me and said:
"This letter is addressed to Andrew Karlovitch, my old friend andcomrade. You are going to Orenbourg to serve under orders."
All my brilliant dreams vanished. In place of the gay life of SaintPetersburg, ennui awaited me in a wild and distant province of theempire. Military life seemed now a calamity.
The next morning a kibitka was at the door; my trunk was placed on it,and also a case holding tea and a tea-service, with some napkins fullof rolls and pastry, the last sweet bits of the paternal home. Both myparents gave me their solemn benediction. My father said, "Adieu, Peter.Serve faithfully him to whom your oath is given; obey your chiefs;neither seek favor, nor solicit service, but do not reject them; andremember the proverb: 'Take care of thy coat whilst it is new, and thyhonor whilst it is fresh.'"
My darling mother, all in tears, told me to take care of my health; andcounseled Saveliitch to guard her child from danger.
I was wrapped up in a short touloup lined with hare-skin, and over thata pelisse lined fox-skin. I took my seat in the kibitka with Saveliitch,and shedding bitter tears, set out for my destination.
That night I arrived at Simbirsk, where I was to stay twenty-four hours,in order that Saveliitch might make various purchases entrusted to him.Early in the morning Saveliitch went to the shops, whilst I stayed inthe inn. Tired of gazing out of the window upon a dirty little street,I rambled about the inn, and at last entered the billiard-room. Ifound there a tall gentleman, some forty years of age, with heavy blackmoustaches, in his dressing-gown, holding a cue and smoking his pipe.He was playing with the marker, who was to drink a glass of brandy andwater if he gained, and if he lost was to pass, on all-fours, under thebilliard table. I watched them playing. The more they played the morefrequent became the promenades on all-fours, so that finally the markerstayed under the table. The gentleman pronounced over him some energeticexpression, as a funeral oration, and then proposed that I should playa game with him. I declared that I did not know how to play billiards.That seemed strange to him. He looked at me with commiseration.
However, we opened a conversation. I learned that his name was IvanZourine; that he was a chief of a squadron of Hussars stationed then atSimbirsk recruiting soldiers, and that his quarters were at my inn. Heinvited me to mess with him, soldier-fashion, pot-luck. I accepted withpleasure, and we sat down to dinner. Zourine drank deeply, and invitedme to drink also, saying that I must become accustomed to the service.He told stories of garrison life which made me laugh till I held mysides, and we rose from the table intimate friends. He then proposedto teach me how to play billiards. "It is," said he, "indispensablefor soldiers like ourselves. For example, suppose we arrive in a town,what's to be done? We can not always make sport of the Jews. As a lastresort there is the inn and the billiard-room; but to play billiards,one must know how." These reasons convinced me, and I set about learningwith enthusiasm.
Zourine encouraged me in a loud tone; he was astonished at my rapidprogress, and after a few lesson he proposed to play for money, were itonly two kopecks, not for the gain, merely to avoid playing for nothing,which was, according to him, a very bad habit. I agreed. Zourine orderedpunch, which he advised me to taste in order to become used to theservice, "for," said he, "what kind of service would that be withoutpunch?"
I took his advice, and we continued to play; the more I tasted of myglass the bolder I grew. I made the balls fly over the cushions; I wasangry with the marker who was counting. Heaven knows why. I increasedthe stake, and behaved, altogether, like a boy just cut free, for thefirst time, from his mother's apron-strings. The time passed quickly. Atlast, Zourine glanced at the clock, laid down his cue, and said that Ihad lost a hundred roubles to him.
I was in great confusion, because my money was all in the hands ofSaveliitch. I began to mumble excuses, when Zourine exclaimed, "Oh!well! Good God! I can wait till morning; don't be distressed aboutit. Now let us go to supper." What could I do? I finished the day asfoolishly as I began it.
Zourine never ceased pouring out drinks for me; advising me to becomeaccustomed to the service. Rising from table, I could scarcely stand. Atmidnight Zourine brought me back to the inn.
Saveliitch met us at the door, and uttered a cry of horror when he sawthe unmistakable signs of my "zeal for the service."
"What has happened to thee?" said he, in heart-broken accents; "wherehave you been filling yourself like a sack? Oh! heavenly father! amisfortune like this never came before."
"Silence! old owl," said I, stammering, "I am sure you are drunkyourself; go to bed, but first put me there."
I awoke next morning with a severe headache; the events of the eveningI recalled vaguely, but my recollections became vivid at the sight ofSaveliitch who came to me with a cup of tea.
"You begin young, Peter Grineff," said the old men, shaking his head."Eh! from whom do you inherit it? Neither your father nor grandfatherwere drunkards. Your mother's name can not be mentioned; she neverdeigned to taste any thing but cider. Whose fault is it then? Thatcursed Frenchman's; he taught three fine things, that miserabledog--that pagan--for thy teacher, as if his lordship, thy father, hadnot people of his own."
I was ashamed before the old man; I turned my face away saying, "Ido not want any tea, go away, Saveliitch." It was not easy to stopSaveliitch, once he began to preach.
"Now, Peter, you see what it is to play the fool. You have a headache,you have no appetite, a drunkard is good for nothing. Here, take some ofthis decoction of cucumber and honey, or half a glass of brandy to soberyou. What do you say to that?"
At that instant a boy entered the room with a note for me from Zourine.I unfolded it and read as follows:
"Do me the favor, my dear Peter, to send me by my servant the hundredroubles that you lost to me yesterday. I am horribly in want of money.Your devoted. ZOURINE."
As I was perfectly in his power, I assumed an air of indifference, andordered Saveliitch to give a hundred roubles to the boy.
"What? why?" said the old man, surprised.
"I owe that sum," said I, coolly.
"You owe it? When had you time enough to contract such a debt?" saidhe, with redoubled astonishment. "No, no, that's impossible. Do what youlike, my lord, but I can not give the money."
I reflected that if in this decisive moment I did not oblige theobstinate old fellow to obey me, it would be impossible in the future toescape from his tutelage. Looking at him therefore, haughtily, I said,"I am thy master; thou art my servant. The money is mine, and I lostbecause I chose to lose it; I advise thee to obey when ordered, and notassume the airs of a master."
My words affected Saveliitch so much that he clasped his hands and stoodbowed down mute and motionless.
"What are you doing t
here like a post?" I cried out, angrily.
Saveliitch was in tears.
"Oh! my dear master Peter," stammered he, with trembling voice, "do notkill me with grief. Oh my light, listen to me, an old man; write tothat brigand that you were jesting, that we never had so much money. Ahundred roubles! God of goodness! Tell him thy parents strictly forbadethee to play for any thing but nuts."
"Silence," said I, with severity, "give the money or I'll chase you outof the room."
Saveliitch looked at me with agony, and went for the money. I pitied thegood old man, but I wanted to emancipate myself, and prove that I was nolonger a child. Saveliitch sent the money to Zourine, and then hastenedour departure from that cursed inn.
I left Simbirsk with a troubled conscience; a secret remorse oppressedme. I took no leave of my teacher, not dreaming that I should ever meethim again.