" Whom can I go to ? whose help can I get ? " he said in a low voice.
"Listen, Alexandr?" began Piotr Ivanitch, wiping his lips with a napkin and moving an armchair to his nephew. " I see that I must talk to you in earnest. Let us talk it over. You have come to me for assistance; I will assist you, only not in the way you imagine, and on condition—that you be guided by me. Don't ask any one to be your second; there will be no use in it. For a trifle you will make a scandal, it will be spread about everywhere, people will laugh at you, or worse still, make use of it to injure you. No one will consent, but even if some madman could be found to second you, it would be all for nothing. The Count will not fight; I know him."
" Not fight! is there no grain of manliness in him ?" observed Alexandr with bitter malice; " I should not have suspected he was as base as that!"
" He is not base, but only sensible."
" Tell me with whom are you chiefly angry—with the Count, or with her—what's-her-name—Anuta, is it ? "
" I hate her, I despise her," said Alexandr.
" Let us begin with the Count; let as suppose that he accepts your challenge, let us even suppose that you find a fool to second you—what will come of it ? The Count will kill you, like a fly, and every one will laugh at you afterwards ; a fine revenge. Let us even suppose that you did by some accident kill him—what sense is there in it ? would you bring back your charmer's love by that? No, she would only hate you for it, and besides, they would send
you for a soldier And what is the chief consideration;
you would tear your hair in despair at your behaviour another day and would quickly have grown cold to. your charmer. Is she the only one in the world—your Maria or Sophia—what's-her-name ? "
" They call her Nadyezhda."
" Nadyezhda ? then who is Sophia ? "
" Sophia 1 oh, that was in the country," said Alexandr reluctantly.
" Do you see ? " continued his uncle, " there it was Sophia, here it's Nadyezhda, somewhere else it will be Maria. The heart is a very deep well; it's a long while before you sound it to the bottom. It goes on loving till old age."
" No, the heart loves once."
" And you go on repeating what you have heard from others. The heart goes on loving as long as its strength is not all spent. It lives its life and also, like everything else in man, has its youth and its old age. If one love has failed, it only dies away, and is still until the next; if a second time it's thwarted, it still has the power, so long as its love is unavailing, to love again for a third and a fourth time, until at last the heart puts all its strength into some one happy union, when nothing thwarts it, and then it slowly and gradually grows cold. With some men love was successful the first time, so they go crying out that one can love once only. So long as a man is in good health and not in decrepitude "
"You always talk of youth, uncle, meaning, of course, material love."
" I talk of youth because love in old age is a blunder, an abnormality. And how about material love ? There is no such love, or rather it is not love, just as there is no love purely ideal. Where was I ? .... oh, you'd been sent for a soldier; besides this, after this scandal your charmer wouldn't allow you in her sight. You would have injured her and yourself too for nothing—do you see ? I hope we have worked out this question conclusively on one side. Now "
Piotr Ivanitch poured himself out some wine and drank it.
"What a blockhead!" he said, "he has sent up cold Lafitte."
Alexandr sat in silence with drooping head.
" Now, tell me," continued his uncle, warming the glass of wine with both hands, " why did you want to wipe the Count off the face of the earth ? "
" I have already told you why; has he not blasted my happiness ? He has pounced like a wolf "
/
134 A COMMON STORY
" On the fold !" put in his uncle. " He has robbed me of all," Alexandr went on. " He has not robbed; he only came and took it. Was he bound to inquire whether your charmer was taken or not ? I don't understand that absurdity of which lovers have been guilty from the creation of the world—that of getting angry with a rival. Can anything be more senseless—wipe him off the face of the earth! why ? because he is found agreeable ! But was your—what's her name ?—Katinka— averse to him ? She yielded of herself, she has ceased to love you—it's useless to quarrel—you won't bring her back! -And to insist—is egoism ! To demand fidelity from a wife —there is some sense in that; in that case an obligation has been entered into ; the essential welfare of the family often depends on it; but even then one can't demand that she should not love any one—you can only demand that she— hm, well .... And haven't you yourself done everything you could to give her away to the Count ? Have you made any fight for her ? "
"Why, here I am wanting to fight," said Alexandr, jumping up from his place, " and you would put a stop to
my honourable impulse "
" Fight with a cudgel in your hand, I daresay!" interrupted his uncle; " the civilised world has other weapons. You ought to have fought a duel of another kind with the Count before the beauty's eyes."
Alexandr looked in perplexity at his uncle. " What kind of duel ? " he asked.
" I will tell you directly. How have you acted up till now?"
Alexandr, with a great deal of circumlocution, in chaotic fashion, told him the whole course of the affair.
"Do you see? it is you who have been to blame in everything all round," was Piotr Ivanitch's comment after listeniqg with a scowl. " How many stupid things you have done ! Ah, Alexandr, what evil genius brought you here ! it wasn't worth while for you to come. You might have been doing all these things at home, by the lake, with your aunt. Ah, how can any one be so childish—make scenes— fly into a fury ? fie ! Who does these things nowadays ? What if your—what's-her-name—Julia—tells it all to the Count ? But no, there is no danger of that, thank goodness.
She's so sensible of course, that in answer to his questions about your relations she has said "
4 'What has she said ?" asked Alexandr, hastily.
" That she had been making a fool of you, that you had been in love with her, that she hated you, could not bear you —as they always do in such cases."
"Do you suppose—that she—has said that?" asked Alexandr, turning paler.
" Without the least doubt. Can you imagine that she is relating to him how you used to pick yellow flowers together there in the garden ? What simplicity ! "
" What kind of a duel, though, with the Count ? " asked Alexandr with impatience.
"Why, you ought not to have been rude to him, and avoided him, and given him sulky looks but, quite the contrary, you should have replied to his friendliness by twice, three times, ten times as much friendliness; as for the—what's her name—Nadinka ? I fancy that's not it—you shouldn't have exasperated her with reproaches, you should have been indulgent with her caprices, and have maintained an appearance of noticing nothing, as though any change were something quite impossible. You ought not to have let them get so far as an intimate acquaintance, you should have broken in on their tite-d-tites skilfully—as though accidentally—you should have been everywhere with them—have even gone riding with them—and all the while you should be silently challenging your rival before her eyes, and should lay bare his weak points, as though in surprise at them, without forethought, good-naturedly, even reluctantly and compassionately, and little by little draw off him the disguise in which a young man gets himself up before a pretty girl. You ought to have taken notice what struck and dazzled her most in him and then have skilfully touched on those very points, presented them plainly, and shown them in their everyday light, and have proved that the new hero is nothing particular in himself, and has only assumed this exalted get-up for her benefit. And to do all this, coolly, patiently, skilfully—that's the duel as it is in our age ! But it's not a game for such as you !"