Book 1, Chapter 3
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18991899

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Author : Leo Tolstoy

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At the time when Maslova, exhausted by the long
walk, was approaching with the armed convoy the building
in which court was held, the same nephew of the
ladies that brought her up, Prince Dmitri Ivanovitch
Nekhludoff, who deceived her, lay on his high, soft,
spring feather-bed, in spotless Holland linen, smoking a
cigarette. He was gazing before him, contemplating
the events of the previous day and considering what he
had before him for that day. As he thought of the previous
evening, spent at the Korchagins, a wealthy and
influential family, whose daughter, rumor had it, he was
to marry, he sighed, and throwing away the butt of his
cigarette, he was on the point of taking another from the
silver cigarette holder, but changed his mind. Half rising,
he slipped his smooth, white feet into the slippers,
threw a silk morning gown over his broad shoulders, and
with quick and heavy stride, walked into the adjoining
dressing-room, which was permeated with the artificial
odors of elixirs, perfumes, cosmetics. There he washed
his partly gold-filled teeth with a tooth-powder, rinsed
them with a perfumed mouth-wash, then began to sponge
himself and dry his body with Turkish towels. After
washing his hands with perfumed soap, carefully brushing
his trimmed nails and washing his face and stout neck
in a marble basin, he walked into a third room, where a
shower-bath was ready. Here he received a cold-water
douche, and after rubbing his white and muscular body
with coarse towels and donning his white linen, he seated
himself before the mirror and began to brush his short,
curly beard and the thinning curls of his forehead.

Everything used by him—the linen, clothing, shoes,
scarfs, scarf-pins, cuff-buttons, were of the very best
quality, simple, tasteful and expensive.

He then picked out the first of a dozen scarfs and pins
that came into his hand—it was no more novel and amusing,
as it used to be—and he was quite indifferent as to
which he put on. He dressed himself in his brushed
clothes which lay on the chair and went out, though not
quite refreshed, yet clean and fragrant. In the oblong
dining-room, the inlaid floor of which had been
polished by three of his men the day before, and containing
a massive oaken sideboard and a similar extension
table, the legs of which were carved in the shape of
lion's paws, giving it a pompous appearance, breakfast
stood ready for him. A fine, starched cloth with large
monograms was spread on the table, on which stood a
silver coffee-pot, containing fragrant, steaming coffee, a
sugar bowl and cream pitcher to match, fresh rolls and
various kinds of biscuits. Beside them lay the last number
of the "Revue des deux Mondes," newspapers and
his mail. Nekhludoff was about to open the letters,
when a middle-aged woman, with a lace head-gear over
her unevenly parted hair, glided into the room. This
was Agrippina Petrovna, servant of his mother, who
died in this very house. She was now stewardess to the
son.

Agrippina Petrovna had traveled many years abroad
with Nekhludoff's mother, and had acquired the manners
of a lady. She had lived in the house of the Nekhludoffs
since childhood, and knew Dmitri Ivanovitch when he
was called by the diminutive Mitenka.

"Good-morning, Dmitri Ivanovitch."

"How do you do, Agrippina Petrovna? What's the
news?" asked Nekhludoff, jesting.

"A letter from the old Princess, or the young one,
perhaps. The maid brought it long ago, and is now
waiting in my room," said Agrippina Petrovna, handing
him the letter with a significant smile.

"Very well; I will attend to it immediately," said Nekhludoff,
taking the letter and then, noticing the smile on
Agrippina's face, he frowned.

The smile on Agrippina's face signified that the letter came from Princess Korchagin, whom, according to
Agrippina Petrovna, he was to marry. And this supposition,
expressed by her smile, displeased Nekhludoff.

"Then I will bid her wait," and Agrippina Petrovna
glided out of the dining-room, first replacing the crumb-brush,
which lay on the table, in its holder.

Nekhludoff opened the perfumed letter and began to
read:



"In fulfillment of the duty I assumed of being your
memory," the letter ran, "I call to your mind that you
have been summoned to serve as juror to-day, the 28th
of April, and that, therefore, you cannot accompany us
and Kolosoff to the art exhibition, as you promised yesterday
in your customary forgetfulness; à moins que
vous ne soyez disposé à payer à la cour d'assises les 300
rubles d'amende que vous vous refusez pour votre
cheval, for your failure to appear in time. I remembered
it yesterday, when you had left. So keep it in
mind.

"Princess M. Korchagin."

On the other side was a postscript:



"Maman vous fait dire que votre couvert vous attendra
jusqu' à la nuit. Venez absolument à quelle
heure que cela soit. M. K."

Nekhludoff knit his brows. The note was the continuation
of a skillful strategem whereby the Princess
sought, for the last two months, to fasten him with invisible
bonds. But Nekhludoff, besides the usual irresoluteness
before marriage of people of his age, and who
are not passionately in love, had an important reason for
withholding his offer of marriage for the time being.
The reason was not that ten years before he had ruined
and abandoned Katiousha, which incident he had entirely
forgotten, but that at this very time he was sustaining relations
with a married woman, and though he now considered
them at an end, they were not so considered by
her.

In the presence of women, Nekhludoff was very shy,
but it was this very shyness that determined the married woman to conquer him. This woman was the wife of
the commander of the district in which Nekhludoff was
one of the electors. She led him into relations with her
which held him fast, and at the same time grew more
and more repulsive to him. At first Nekhludoff could
not resist her wiles, then, feeling himself at fault, he
could not break off the relations against her will. This
was the reason why Nekhludoff considered that he had
no right, even if he desired, to ask for the hand of Korchagin.
A letter from the husband of that woman happened
to lay on the table. Recognizing the handwriting
and the stamp, Nekhludoff flushed and immediately felt
an influx of that energy which he always experienced in
the face of danger. But there was no cause for his agitation;
the husband, as commander of the district where
Nekhludoff's estates were situated, informed the latter of
a special meeting of the local governing body, and asked
him to be present without fail, and donner un coup
d'épaule in the important measures to be submitted concerning
the schools and roads, and that the reactionary
party was expected to offer strong opposition.

The commander was a liberal-minded man, entirely
absorbed with the struggles, and knew nothing about his
wretched family life.

Nekhludoff recalled all the tortures this man had occasioned
him; how on one occasion he thought that the
husband had discovered all, and he was preparing to
fight a duel with him, intending to use a blank cartridge,
and the ensuing scene where she, in despair, ran to the
pond, intending to drown herself, while he ran to search
for her. "I cannot go now, and can undertake nothing
until I have heard from her," thought Nekhludoff. The
preceding week he had written to her a decisive letter,
acknowledging his guilt, and expressing his readiness to
redeem it in any manner she should suggest, but for her
own good, considered their relations ended. It is to this
letter that he expected a reply. He considered it a favorable
sign that no reply came. If she had not consented
to a separation, she would have answered long
ago, or would have come personally, as she often did before.
Nekhludoff had heard that an army officer was
courting her, and while he was tormented by jealousy, he was at the same time gladdened by the hope of release
from the oppressive lie.

The other letter was from the steward in charge of his
estates. Nekhludoff was requested to return and establish
his right to the inheritance and also to decide on
the future management of the estates; whether the same
system of letting out to the peasants, which prevailed
during the lifetime of his mother, was to be continued,
or, as the steward had strongly advised the deceased
Princess, and now advised the young Prince, to augment
the stock and work all the land himself. The steward
wrote that the land could thus best be exploited. He
also apologized for his failure to send the three thousand
rubles due on the first of the month, which he would
send by the next mail, explaining it by the difficulty of
collecting the rents from the peasants whose bad faith
had reached a point where it became necessary to resort
to the courts to collect them. This letter was partly
agreeable and partly disagreeable to Nekhludoff. It was
agreeable to feel the power of authority over so vast an
estate, and it was disagreeable, because in his youth he
was an enthusiastic adherent of Herbert Spencer, and
being himself a large land owner, was struck by the proposition
in Social Statics that private ownership of land
is contrary to the dictates of justice. With the frankness
and boldness of youth, he not only then spoke of the injustice
of private ownership of land; not only did he compose
theses in the university on the subject, but he actually
distributed among the peasants the few hundred
acres of land left him by his father, not desiring to own
land contrary to his convictions. Now that he found
himself the owner of vast estates, he was confronted by
two alternatives: either to waive his ownership in favor of
the peasants, as he did ten years ago with the two hundred
acres, or, by tacit acquiescence, confess that all his
former ideas were erroneous and false.

He could not carry out the first, because he possessed
no resources outside of the land. He did not wish to
go into service, and yet he had luxurious habits of life
which he thought he could not abandon. Indeed, there
was no necessity of abandoning these habits, since he
had lost the strength of conviction as well as the resolution, the vanity and the desire to astonish people that he
had possessed in his youth. The other alternative—to
reject all the arguments against private ownership of
land which he gathered from Spencer's Social Statics,
and of which he found confirmation in the works of
Henry George—he could follow even less.

For this reason the steward's letter was disagreeable
to him.

(Source: The Awakening by graf Leo Tolstoy, Translated by Smith, William E., AKA: The Resurrection. Text from Gutenberg.org.)


     From : Gutenberg.org

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     Book 1, Chapter 3 -- Publication : November 30, 1898

     Book 1, Chapter 3 -- Added : February 11, 2017

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