Kseniya Ippolytovna awoke late on that day and did not get up, lying without stirring in bed until dinner time, her hands behind her head. It was a clear, bright day and the sun's golden rays streamed in through the windows, and were reflected on the polished floor, casting wavy3 shadows over the dark heavy tapestry4 on the walls. Outside was the cold blue glare of the snow, which was marked with the imprints5 of birds' feet, and a vast stretch of clear turquoise6 sky.
The bedroom was large and gloomy; the polished floor was covered with rugs; a canopied7 double bedstead stood against the further wall; a large wardrobe was placed in a corner.
Kseniya Ippolytovna looked haggard and unhappy. She took a bath before dinner; then had her meal—alone, in solitary8 state, drowsing lingeringly over it with a book.
Crows, the birds of destruction, were cawing and gossiping outside in the park. At dusk the fragile new moon rose for a brief while. The frosty night was crisp and sparkling. The stars shone diamond-bright in the vast, all-embracing vault9 of blue; the snow was a soft, velvety10 green.
Polunin arrived early. Kseniya Ippolytovna greeted him in the drawing-room. A bright fire burnt on the hearth11; beside it were two deep armchairs. No lamps were alight, but the fire-flames cast warm, orange reflections; the round-topped windows seemed silvery in the hoar-frost.
Kseniya Ippolytovna wore a dark evening dress and had plaited her hair; she shook hands with Polunin.
"I am feeling sad to-day, Polunin," she said in a melancholy12 voice.
They sat down in the armchairs.
"I expected you at five. It is now six. But you are always churlish and inconsiderate towards women. You haven't once wanted to be alone with me—or guessed that I desired it!" She spoke14 calmly, rather coldly, gazing obstinately15 into the fire, her cheeks cupped between her narrow palms. "You are so very silent, a perfect diplomat…. What is it like in the fields to-day? Cold? Warm? Tea will be served in a moment."
There was a pause.
At last Polunin broke the silence.
"Yes, it was bitterly cold, but fine." After a further pause he added: "When we last talked together you did not say all that was in your mind. Say it now."
Kseniya Ippolytovna laughed:
"I have already said everything! Isn't it cold? I have not been out to-day. I have been thinking about Paris and of that … that June…. Tea should be ready by this time!"
She rose and rung the bell, and the old butler came in.
"Will tea be long?"
"I will bring it now, Barina."
He went out and returned with a tray on which were two glasses of tea, a decanter of rum, some pastries16, figs17, and honey, and laid them on the little table beside the armchairs.
"Will you have the lamps lighted, Barina?" he inquired, respectfully.
"No. You may go. Close the door."
The old butler looked at them knowingly; then withdrew.
Kseniya turned at once to Polunin.
"I have told you everything. How is it you have not understood? Drink up your tea."
"Tell me again," he pleaded.
"Take your tea first; pour out the rum. I repeat I have already told you all. You remember about the mice? Did you not understand that?" Kseniya Ippolytovna sat erect18 in her chair; she spoke coldly, in the same distant tone in which she had addressed the butler.
Polunin shook his head: "No, I haven't understood."
"Dear me, dear me!" she mocked, "and you used to be so quick-witted, my ascetic19. Still, health and happiness do not always sharpen the wits. You are healthy and happy, aren't you?"
"You are being unjust again," Polunin protested. "You know very well that I love you."
Kseniya Ippolytovna gave a short laugh: "Oh, come, come! None of that!" She drank her glass of tea feverishly20, threw herself back in the chair, and was silent.
Polunin also took his, warming himself after his cold drive.
She spoke again after a while in a quiet dreamy tone: "In this stove, flames will suddenly flare21 up, then die away, and it will become cold. You and I have always had broken conversations. Perhaps the Arkhipovs are right—when it seems expedient22, kill! When it seems expedient, breed! That is wise, prudent23, honest…." Suddenly she sat erect, pouring out quick, passionate24, uneven25 words:
"Do you love me? Do you desire me … as a woman?… to kiss, to caress26?… You understand? No, be silent! I am purged27…. I come to you as you came to me that June…. You didn't understand about the mice?… Or perhaps you did.
"Have you noticed, have you ever reflected on that which does not change in man's life, but for ever remains28 the same? No, no, wait!… There have been hundreds of religions, ethics29, aesthetics30, sciences, philosophical31 systems: they have all changed and are still changing— only one law remains unaltered, that all living things—whether men, mice, or rye—are born, breed, and die.
"I was packing up for Nice, where a lover expected me, when suddenly I felt an overwhelming desire for a babe, a dear, sweet, little babe of my own, and I remembered you …. Then I travelled here, to Russia so as to bear it in reverence…. I am able to do so now!…"
Polunin rose and stood close to Kseniya Ippolytovna: his expression was serious and alarmed.
"Don't beat me," she murmured.
"You are innocent, Kseniya," he replied.
"Oh, there you go again!" she cried impatiently. "Always sin and innocence32! I am a stupid woman, full of beliefs and superstitions— nothing more—like all women. I want to conceive here, to breed and bear a child here. Do you wish to be the father?"
She stood up, looking intently into Polunin's eyes.
"What are you saying, Kseniya?" he asked in a low, grave, pained tone.
"I have told you what I want. Give me a child and then go—anywhere— back to your Alena! I have not forgotten that June and July."
"I cannot," Polunin replied firmly; "I love Alena."
"I do not want love," she persisted; "I have no need of it. Indeed I have not, for I do not even love you!" She spoke in a low, faint voice, and passed her hand over her face.
"I must go," the man said at last.
She looked at him sharply. "Where to?"
"How do you mean 'where to'? I must go away altogether!"
"Ah, those tragedies, duties, and sins again!" she cried, her eyes burning into his with hatred34 and contempt. "Isn't it all perfectly35 simple? Didn't you make a contract with me?"
"I have never made one without love. And I love only Alena. I must go."
"Oh, what cruel, ascetical egoism!" she cried violently. Then suddenly all her rage died down, and she sat quietly in the chair, covering her face with her hands.
Polunin stood by, his shoulders bowed, his arms hanging limply. His face betrayed grief and anxiety.
Kseniya looked up at him with a wan13 smile: "It is all right—there is no need to go… It was only my nonsense…. I was merely venting36 my anger…. Don't mind me …. I am tired and harassed37. Of course I have not been purged. I know that is impossible… We are the 'heisha-girls of lantern-light'…. You remember Annensky? … Give me your hand."
Polunin stretched out his large hand, took her yielding one in his and pressed its delicate fingers.
"You have forgiven me?" she murmured.
He looked at her helplessly, then muttered: "I cannot either forgive or not forgive. But … I cannot!"
"Never mind; we shall forget. We shall be cheerful and happy. You remember: 'Where beauty shines amidst mire38 and baseness there is only torment'…. You need not mind, it is all over!"
She uttered the last few words with a cry, raised herself erect, and laughed aloud with forced gaiety.
"We shall tell fortunes, jest, drink, be merry—like our grandfathers … you remember! …Had not our grandmothers their coachmen friends?"
She rang the bell and the butler came in.
"Bring in more tea. Light the fire and the lamps."
The fire burnt brightly and illuminated39 the leather-covered chairs.
The portrait frames on the walls shone golden through the darkness.
Polunin paced up and down the room, his hands behind his back; his
Sleigh bells began to ring outside.
It was just ten o'clock as the guests assembled from the town and the neighbouring estates. They were received in the drawing-room.
Taper41, the priest's son, commenced playing a polka, and the ladies went into the ballroom42; the old butler and two footmen brought wax candles and basins of water, and the old ladies began to tell fortunes. A troupe43 of mummers tumbled in, a bear performed tricks, a Little Russian dulcimer-player sang songs.
The mummers brought in with them the smell of frost, furs, and napthaline. One of them emitted a cock's crow, and they danced a Russian dance. It was all merry and bright, a tumultuous, boisterous44 revel45, as in the old Russian aristocracy days. There was a smell of burning wax, candle-grease, and burning paper.
Kseniya Ippolytovna was the soul of gaiety; she laughed and jested cheerfully as she waltzed with a Lyceum student, a General's son. She had re-dressed her hair gorgeously, and wore a pearl necklace round her throat. The old men sat round card-tables in the lounge, talking on local topics.
At half past eleven a footman opened the door leading into the dining-room and solemnly announced that supper was served. They supped and toasted, ate and drank amid the clatter46 of knives, forks, dishes, and spoons. Kseniya made Arkhipov, Polunin, a General and a Magistrate47 sit beside her.
At midnight, just as they were expecting the clock to chime, Kseniya Ippolytovna rose to propose a toast; in her right hand was a glass; her left was flung back behind her plaited hair; she held her head high. All the guests at once rose to their feet.
"I am a woman," she cried aloud. "I drink to ourselves, to women, to the gentle, to the homely48, to happiness and purity! To motherhood! I drink to the sacred—" she broke off abruptly49, sat down and hung her head.
Somebody cried: "Hurrah50!" To someone else it seemed that Kseniya was weeping. The clock began to chime, the guests shouted "Hurrah!" clinked glasses, and drank.
Then they sang, while some rose and carried round glasses to those of the guests who were still sober and those who were only partially51 intoxicated52. They bowed. They sang The Goblets53, and the basses54 thundered:
"Drink to the dregs! Drink to the dregs!" Kseniya Ippolytovna offered her first glass to Polunin. She stood in front of him with a tray, curtseyed without lifting her eyes and sang. Polunin rose, colouring with embarrassment55:
"I never drink wine," he protested.
But the basses thundered: "Drink to the dregs! Drink to the dregs!"
His face darkened, he raised a silencing arm, and firmly repeated:
"I never drink wine, and I do not intend to."
Kseniya gazed into the depths of his eyes and said softly:
"I want you to, I beg you…. Do you hear?"
"I will not," Polunin whispered back.
Then she cried out:
"He doesn't want to! We mustn't make him against his will!" She turned away, offered her glass to the Magistrate, and after him to the Lyceum student; then excused herself and withdrew, quietly returning later looking sad and as if she had suddenly aged33.
They lingered a long while over supper; then went into the ball-room to dance, and sing, and play old fashioned games. The men went to the buffets56 to drink, the older ones then sat in the drawing-room playing whist, and talked.
It was nearly five o'clock when the guests departed. Only the Arkhipovs and Polunin remained. Kseniya Ippolytovna ordered coffee, and all four sat down at a small table feeling worn out. The house was now wrapt in silence. The dawn had just broken.
Kseniya was tired to death, but endeavoured to appear fresh and cheerful. She passed the coffee round, and then fetched a bottle of liqueur. They sat almost in silence; what talk they exchanged was desultory57.
"One more year dropped into Eternity," Arkhipov said, sombrely.
"Yes, a year nearer to death, a year further from birth," rejoined
Polunin.
Kseniya Ippolytovna was seated opposite him. Her eyes were veiled. She rose now to her feet, leaned over the table and spoke to him in slow, measured accents vibrating with malice58:
"Well, pious59 one! Everything here is mine. I asked you to-day to give me a baby, because I am merely a woman and so desire motherhood…. I asked you to take wine… You refused. The nearer to death the further from birth, you say? Well then, begone!"
She broke into tears, sobbing60 loudly and plaintively61, covering her face with her hands; then leant against the wall, still sobbing. The Arkhipovs ran to her; Polunin stood at the table dumbfounded, then left the room.
"I didn't ask him for passion or caresses62. … I have no husband!" Kseniya cried, sobbing and shrieking63 like a hysterical64 girl. They calmed her after a time, and she spoke to them in snatches between her sobs65, which were less violent for a while. Then she broke out weeping afresh, and sank into an armchair.
The dawn had now brightened; the room was filled with a faint, flickering66 light. Misty67, vaporous, tormenting68 shadows danced and twisted oddly in the shifting glimmer69: in the tenebrous half-light the occupants looked grey, weary, and haggard, their faces strangely distorted by the alternate rise and fall of the shadows. Arkhipov's bald head with its tightly stretched skin resembled a greatly elongated70 skull71.
"Listen to me, you Arkhipovs," Kseniya cried brokenly. "Supposing a distracted woman who desired to be pure were to come and ask you for a baby—would you give her the same answer as Polunin? He said it was impossible, that it was sin, that he loved someone else. Would you answer like that, Arkhipov, knowing it was the woman's last—her only—chance of salvation—her only love?" She looked eagerly from one to the other.
"No, certainly not—I should answer in a different way," Arkhipov replied quietly.
"And you, Vera Lvovna, a wife … do you hear? I speak in front of you?"
Vera Lvovna nodded, laid her hand gently on Kseniya's forehead, and answered softly and tenderly:
"I understand you perfectly."
Again Kseniya wept.
The dawn trod gently down the lanes of darkness. The light grew clearer and the candles became dim and useless. The outlines of the furniture crept out of the net of shadows. Through the blue mist outside the snow, valley, forest, and fields were faintly visible. From the right of the horizon dawn's red light flushed the heavens with a cold purple.
Polunin drove along by the fields, trotting72 smoothly73 behind his stallion. The earth was blue and cold and ghostly, a land carved out of dreams, seemingly unsubstantial and unreal. A harsh, bitter wind blew from the north, stirring the telegraph-wires by the roadside to a loud, humming refrain. A silence as of death reigned74 over the land, yet life thrilled through it; and now and then piping goldfinches appeared from their winter nests in the moist green ditches, and flew ahead of Polunin; then suddenly turned aside and perched lightly on the wayside brambles.
Night still lingered amid the calm splendour of the vast, primeval forest. As he drove through the shadowed glades75 the huge trees gently swayed their giant boughs76, softly brushing aside the shroud77 of encompassing78 darkness.
A golden eagle darted79 from its mist-wreathed eyrie and flew over the fields; then soared upwards80 in ever-widening circles towards the east—where, like a pale rose ribbon stretched across the sky, the light from the rising sun shed a delicate opalescent81 glow on the snow, which it transformed to an exquisite82 lilac, and the shadows, to which it lent a wonderful, mysterious, quivering blue tint83.
Polunin sat in his seat, huddled84 together, brooding morosely85, deriving86 a grim satisfaction from the fact that—all the same—he had not broken the law. Henceforth, he never could break it; the thought of Kseniya Ippolytovna brought pain, but he would not condemn87 her.
At home, Alena was already up and about; he embraced her fondly, clasped her in his arms, kissed her forehead; then he took up the infant and gazed lingeringly, with infinite tenderness, upon her innocent little face.
The day was glorious; the golden sunlight streamed in through the windows in a shining cataract88, betokening89 the advent90 of spring, and made pools of molten gold upon the floor. But the snow still lay in all its virgin91 whiteness over the earth.
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1
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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requisites
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| n.必要的事物( requisite的名词复数 ) | |
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wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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4
tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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imprints
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| n.压印( imprint的名词复数 )；痕迹；持久影响 | |
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turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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canopied
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| adj. 遮有天篷的 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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12
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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13
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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15
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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pastries
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| n.面粉制的糕点 | |
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figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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ascetic
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| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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23
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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27
purged
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| 清除（政敌等）( purge的过去式和过去分词 )； 涤除（罪恶等）； 净化（心灵、风气等）； 消除（错事等）的不良影响 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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29
ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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aesthetics
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| n.(尤指艺术方面之)美学，审美学 | |
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philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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32
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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33
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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36
venting
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| 消除； 泄去； 排去； 通风 | |
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harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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40
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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41
taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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42
ballroom
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| n.舞厅 | |
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43
troupe
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| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
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44
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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45
revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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46
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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47
magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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48
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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49
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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50
hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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51
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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52
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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53
goblets
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| n.高脚酒杯( goblet的名词复数 ) | |
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54
basses
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| 低音歌唱家，低音乐器( bass的名词复数 ) | |
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55
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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56
buffets
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| （火车站的）饮食柜台( buffet的名词复数 )； （火车的）餐车； 自助餐 | |
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57
desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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58
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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59
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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60
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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tormenting
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| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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elongated
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| v.延长，加长( elongate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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encompassing
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| v.围绕( encompass的现在分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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opalescent
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| adj.乳色的，乳白的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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morosely
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| adv.愁眉苦脸地，忧郁地 | |
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deriving
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| v.得到( derive的现在分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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cataract
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| n.大瀑布，奔流，洪水，白内障 | |
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betokening
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的现在分词 ) | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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