Russian Literature – Children Books – Russian Poetry – Ivan Turgenev – Clara Mílitch – Contents
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IX
He had not hoped to find him … but he did. Kupfer actually had been absent from Moscow for a time, but had returned about a week previously and was even preparing to call on Arátoff again. He welcomed him with his customary cordiality, and began to explain something to him … but Arátoff immediately interrupted him with the impatient question:
“Hast thou read it?—Is it true?”
“Is what true?” replied the astounded Kupfer.
“About Clara Mílitch?”
Kupfer’s face expressed compassion.—”Yes, yes, brother, it is true; she has poisoned herself. It is such a misfortune!”
Arátoff held his peace for a space.—”But hast thou also read it in the newspaper?” he asked:—”Or perhaps thou hast been to Kazán thyself?”
“I have been to Kazán, in fact; the Princess and I conducted her thither. She went on the stage there, and had great success. Only I did not remain there until the catastrophe…. I was in Yaroslávl.”
“In Yaroslávl?”
“Yes; I escorted the Princess thither…. She has settled in Yaroslávl now.”
“But hast thou trustworthy information?”
“The most trustworthy sort … at first hand! I made acquaintance in Kazán with her family.—But stay, my dear fellow … this news seems to agitate thee greatly.—But I remember that Clara did not please thee that time! Thou wert wrong! She was a splendid girl—only her head! She had an ungovernable head! I was greatly distressed about her!”
Arátoff did not utter a word, but dropped down on a chair, and after waiting a while he asked Kupfer to tell him … he hesitated.
“What?” asked Kupfer.
“Why … everything,” replied Arátoff slowly.—”About her family, for instance … and so forth. Everything thou knowest!”
“But does that interest thee?—Certainly!”
Kupfer, from whose face it was impossible to discern that he had grieved so greatly over Clara, began his tale.
From his words Arátoff learned that Clara Mílitch’s real name had been Katerína Milovídoff; that her father, now dead, had been an official teacher of drawing in Kazán, had painted bad portraits and official images, and moreover had borne the reputation of being a drunkard and a domestic tyrant … “and a cultured man into the bargain!”…. (Here Kupfer laughed in a self-satisfied manner, by way of hinting at the pun he had made);[60]—that he had left at his death, in the first place, a widow of the merchant class, a thoroughly stupid female, straight out of one of Ostróvsky’s comedies;[61] and in the second place, a daughter much older than Clara and bearing no resemblance to her—a very clever girl and “greatly developed, my dear fellow!” That the two—widow and daughter—lived in easy circumstances, in a decent little house which had been acquired by the sale of those wretched portraits and holy pictures; that Clara … or Kátya, whichever you choose to call her, had astonished every one ever since her childhood by her talent, but was of an insubordinate, capricious disposition, and was constantly quarrelling with her father; that having an inborn passion for the theatre, she had run away from the parental house at the age of sixteen with an actress….
“With an actor?” interjected Arátoff.
“No, not with an actor, but an actress; to whom she had become attached…. This actress had a protector, it is true, a wealthy gentleman already elderly, who only refrained from marrying her because he was already married—while the actress, it appeared, was married also.”
Further, Kupfer informed Arátoff that, prior to her arrival in Moscow, Clara had acted and sung in provincial theatres; that on losing her friend the actress (the gentleman had died also, it seems, or had made it up with his wife—precisely which Kupfer did not quite remember …), she had made the acquaintance of the Princess, “that woman of gold, whom thou, my friend Yákoff Andréitch,” the narrator added with feeling, “wert not able to appreciate at her true worth”; that finally Clara had been offered an engagement in Kazán, and had accepted it, although she had previously declared that she would never leave Moscow!—But how the people of Kazán had loved her—it was fairly amazing! At every representation she received bouquets and gifts! bouquets and gifts!—A flour merchant, the greatest bigwig in the government, had even presented her with a golden inkstand!—Kupfer narrated all this with great animation, but without, however, displaying any special sentimentality, and interrupting his speech with the question:—”Why dost thou want to know that?” … or “To what end is that?” when Arátoff, after listening to him with devouring attention, demanded more and still more details. Everything was said at last, and Kupfer ceased speaking, rewarding himself for his toil with a cigar.
“But why did she poison herself?” asked Arátoff. “The newspaper stated….”
Kupfer waved his hands.—”Well…. That I cannot say…. I don’t know. But the newspaper lies, Clara behaved in an exemplary manner … she had no love-affairs…. And how could she, with her pride! She was as proud as Satan himself, and inaccessible! An insubordinate head! Firm as a rock! If thou wilt believe me,—I knew her pretty intimately, seest thou,—I never beheld a tear in her eyes!”
“But I did,” thought Arátoff to himself.
“Only there is this to be said,” went on Kupfer:—”I noticed a great change in her of late: she became so depressed, she would remain silent for hours at a time; you couldn’t get a word out of her. I once asked her: ‘Has any one offended you, Katerína Semyónovna?’ Because I knew her disposition: she could not endure an insult. She held her peace, and that was the end of it! Even her success on the stage did not cheer her up; they would shower her with bouquets … and she would not smile! She gave one glance at the gold inkstand,—and put it aside!—She complained that no one would write her a genuine part, as she conceived it. And she gave up singing entirely. I am to blame, brother!… I repeated to her that thou didst not think she had any school. But nevertheless … why she poisoned herself is incomprehensible! And the way she did it too….”
“In what part did she have the greatest success?”…. Arátoff wanted to find out what part she had played that last time, but for some reason or other he asked something else.
“In Ostróvsky’s’ Grúnya'[62] I believe. But I repeat to thee: she had no love-affairs! Judge for thyself by one thing: she lived in her mother’s house…. Thou knowest what some of those merchants’ houses are like; a glass case filled with holy images in every corner and a shrine lamp in front of the case; deadly, stifling heat; a sour odour; in the drawing-room nothing but chairs ranged along the wall, and geraniums in the windows;—and when a visitor arrives, the hostess begins to groan as though an enemy were approaching. What chance is there for love-making, and amours in such a place? Sometimes it happened that they would not even admit me. Their maid-servant, a robust peasant-woman, in a Turkey red cotton sarafan,[63] and pendulous breasts, would place herself across the path in the anteroom and roar: ‘Whither away?’ No, I positively cannot understand what made her poison herself. She must have grown tired of life,” Kupfer philosophically wound up his remarks.
Arátoff sat with drooping head.—”Canst thou give me the address of that house in Kazán?” he said at last.
“I can; but what dost thou want of it?—Dost thou wish to send a letter thither?”
“Perhaps so.”
“Well, as thou wilt. Only the old woman will not answer thee. Her sister might … the clever sister!—But again, brother, I marvel at thee! Such indifference formerly … and now so much attention! All that comes of living a solitary life, my dear fellow!”
Arátoff made no reply to this remark and went away, after having procured the address in Kazán.
Agitation, surprise, expectation had been depicted on his face when he went to Kupfer…. Now he advanced with an even gait, downcast eyes, and hat pulled low down over his brows; almost every one he met followed him with a searching gaze … but he paid no heed to the passers-by … it was quite different from what it had been on the boulevard!…
“Unhappy Clara! Foolish Clara!” resounded in his soul.
[60] An image, or holy picture, is óbraz; the adjective “cultured” is derived from the same word in its sense of pattern, model—obrazóvanny. —TRANSLATOR.
[61] Ostróvsky’s comedies of life in the merchant class are irresistibly amusing, talented, and true to nature.—TRANSLATOR.
[62] Turgénieff probably means Grúsha (another form for the diminutive of Agrippína, in Russian Agrafénya). The play is “Live as You Can.”—TRANSLATOR.
[63] A full gown gathered into a narrow band just under the armpits and suspended over the shoulders by straps of the same.—TRANSLATOR.
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Russian Literature – Children Books – Russian Poetry – Ivan Turgenev – Clara Mílitch – Contents
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