And death rose clearly and vividly before her mind as the sole means of
bringing back love for her in his heart, of punishing him and of gaining
the victory in that strife which the evil spirit in possession of her
heart was waging with him.
When she poured herself out her usual dose of opium, and thought that
she had only to drink off the whole bottle to die, it seemed to her so
simple and easy, that she began musing with enjoyment on how he would
suffer, and repent, and love her memory when it would be too late.
She lay in bed with open eyes, by the light of a single guttering candle,
gazing at the carved cornice of the ceiling and at the shadow of the
screen that covered part of it, while she vividly pictured to herself how
he would feel when she would be no more, when she would be only a memory
to him.
She is..." Suddenly the
shadow of the screen wavered, pounced on the whole cornice, the whole
ceiling; other shadows from the other side swooped to meet it; for an
instant the shadows flitted back, but then with fresh swiftness they
darted forward, wavered, mingled, and all was darkness.
"Death!" she thought. And such horror came upon her that for a long while she could
not realize where she was, and for a long while her trembling hands could
not find the matches and light another candle, instead of the one that
had burned down and gone out.
"No, anything- only to live! Why, I love
him! Why, he loves me! This has been before and will pass," she said,
feeling that tears of joy at the return to life were trickling down her
cheeks. And to escape from her panic she went hurriedly to his room.
He was asleep there, and sleeping soundly. She went up to him, and
holding the light above his face, she gazed a long while at him.
Now when he was asleep, she loved him so that at the sight of him she could not
keep back tears of tenderness.
[ Continued]
[This message has been edited by Van Canna (edited September 07, 2000).]
Love and death
Moderator: Available
Love and death
In the morning she was waked by a horrible nightmare, which had
recurred several times in her dreams.
"He has gone! It is the end!" Anna said to herself, standing at the
window; and in answer to this question the impression of the darkness
when the candle had flickered out and of her fearful dream, mingling into
one, filled her heart with cold terror.
"No, that cannot be!" she cried, and crossing the room she rang the
bell.
She was afraid now of being alone, that, without waiting for the
servant to come in, she went out to meet him.
"Inquire where the Count has gone," she said.
The servant answered that the Count had gone to the stable.
"His Honor left word that if you cared to drive out, the carriage would
be back immediately."
It was bright and sunny. A fine rain had been falling all the morning,
and now it had not long cleared up. The iron roofs, the flags of the
sidewalks, the cobbles of the pavements, the wheels and leather, the
brass and the tinplate of the carriages- all glistened brightly in the
May sunshine.
It was three o'clock, and the very liveliest time in the
streets.
As she sat in a corner of the comfortable carriage that hardly swayed
on its supple springs, while the grays trotted swiftly, in the midst of
the unceasing rattle of wheels and the changing impressions in the pure
air, Anna ran over the events of the last days, and she saw her position
quite differently from what it had seemed at home.
Now the thought of
death seemed no longer so terrible and so clear to her, and death itself
no longer seemed so inevitable.
Now she blamed herself for the
humiliation to which she had lowered herself. "I entreat him to forgive
me. I have given in to him. I have owned myself in fault. What for? Can't
I live without him?"
And leaving unanswered the question how she was
going to live without him, she fell to reading the signs on the shops.
[ continued]
recurred several times in her dreams.
"He has gone! It is the end!" Anna said to herself, standing at the
window; and in answer to this question the impression of the darkness
when the candle had flickered out and of her fearful dream, mingling into
one, filled her heart with cold terror.
"No, that cannot be!" she cried, and crossing the room she rang the
bell.
She was afraid now of being alone, that, without waiting for the
servant to come in, she went out to meet him.
"Inquire where the Count has gone," she said.
The servant answered that the Count had gone to the stable.
"His Honor left word that if you cared to drive out, the carriage would
be back immediately."
It was bright and sunny. A fine rain had been falling all the morning,
and now it had not long cleared up. The iron roofs, the flags of the
sidewalks, the cobbles of the pavements, the wheels and leather, the
brass and the tinplate of the carriages- all glistened brightly in the
May sunshine.
It was three o'clock, and the very liveliest time in the
streets.
As she sat in a corner of the comfortable carriage that hardly swayed
on its supple springs, while the grays trotted swiftly, in the midst of
the unceasing rattle of wheels and the changing impressions in the pure
air, Anna ran over the events of the last days, and she saw her position
quite differently from what it had seemed at home.
Now the thought of
death seemed no longer so terrible and so clear to her, and death itself
no longer seemed so inevitable.
Now she blamed herself for the
humiliation to which she had lowered herself. "I entreat him to forgive
me. I have given in to him. I have owned myself in fault. What for? Can't
I live without him?"
And leaving unanswered the question how she was
going to live without him, she fell to reading the signs on the shops.
[ continued]
Love and death
"Yes, I must go to the railway station, and if he's not there, then go
there and catch him." Anna looked at the railway timetable in the
newspapers.
An evening train went at two minutes past eight. "Yes, I
shall be in time." She gave orders for the other horses to be put in the
carriage, and packed in a traveling bag the things needed for a few days.
She knew she would never come back here again.
Among the plans that came into her head she vaguely determined that
after what would happen at the station or at the Countess's house, she
would go as far as the first town on the Nizhny-Novgorod railway and stop
there.
"Here it is again! Again I understand it all!" Anna said to herself, as
soon as the carriage had started and swaying lightly, rumbled over the
small cobbles of the paved road, and again one impression followed
rapidly upon another.
"Yes; what was the last thing I thought of so clearly?" she tried to
recall. "Tiutkin, coiffeur?- No, not that. Yes, of what Iashvin says, the
struggle for existence and hatred is all that holds men together.
No,
it's a useless journey you're making," she said, mentally addressing a
party in a coach and four, evidently going for an excursion into the
country. "And the dog you're taking with you will be no help to you. You
can't get away from yourselves."
Turning her eyes in the direction Piotr
had turned to look, she saw a factory hand almost dead-drunk, with
hanging head, being led away by a policeman. "Come, he's found a quicker
way," she thought.
"Count Vronsky and I did not find that happiness
either, though we expected so much from it."
And now for the first time
Anna turned that glaring light in which she was seeing everything on her
relations with him, which she had hitherto avoided thinking about. "What
was it he sought in me?
He boasted of me. Now that's over. There's nothing to be proud
of. Not to be proud of, but to be ashamed of. He has taken from me all he
could, and now I am no use to him.
He is weary of me and is trying not to
be dishonorable in his behavior to me.
[ continued]
there and catch him." Anna looked at the railway timetable in the
newspapers.
An evening train went at two minutes past eight. "Yes, I
shall be in time." She gave orders for the other horses to be put in the
carriage, and packed in a traveling bag the things needed for a few days.
She knew she would never come back here again.
Among the plans that came into her head she vaguely determined that
after what would happen at the station or at the Countess's house, she
would go as far as the first town on the Nizhny-Novgorod railway and stop
there.
"Here it is again! Again I understand it all!" Anna said to herself, as
soon as the carriage had started and swaying lightly, rumbled over the
small cobbles of the paved road, and again one impression followed
rapidly upon another.
"Yes; what was the last thing I thought of so clearly?" she tried to
recall. "Tiutkin, coiffeur?- No, not that. Yes, of what Iashvin says, the
struggle for existence and hatred is all that holds men together.
No,
it's a useless journey you're making," she said, mentally addressing a
party in a coach and four, evidently going for an excursion into the
country. "And the dog you're taking with you will be no help to you. You
can't get away from yourselves."
Turning her eyes in the direction Piotr
had turned to look, she saw a factory hand almost dead-drunk, with
hanging head, being led away by a policeman. "Come, he's found a quicker
way," she thought.
"Count Vronsky and I did not find that happiness
either, though we expected so much from it."
And now for the first time
Anna turned that glaring light in which she was seeing everything on her
relations with him, which she had hitherto avoided thinking about. "What
was it he sought in me?
He boasted of me. Now that's over. There's nothing to be proud
of. Not to be proud of, but to be ashamed of. He has taken from me all he
could, and now I am no use to him.
He is weary of me and is trying not to
be dishonorable in his behavior to me.
[ continued]
Love and death
He loves me, but how?
The zest is gone, as the English say. "Yes, there's not
the same zest about me for him now. If I go away from him, at the bottom
of his heart he will be glad."
"My love keeps growing more passionate and egoistic, while his is
waning and waning, and that's why we're drifting apart." She went on
musing. "And there's no help for it. He is everything for me, and I want
him more and more to give himself up to me entirely. And he wants more
and more to get away from me.
Precisely: we went to meet one another up
to the time of our liaison, and since then we have been irresistibly
drifting in different directions. And there's no altering that.
He tells
me I'm insanely jealous, and I have told myself that I am insanely
jealous; but it's not true. I'm not jealous, but I'm unsatisfied. But..."
she opened her lips, and shifted her place in the carriage in the
excitement, aroused by the thought that suddenly struck her.
"If I could
be anything but a mistress, passionately caring for nothing but his
caresses; but I can't, and I don't care to be anything else.
[ continued]
The zest is gone, as the English say. "Yes, there's not
the same zest about me for him now. If I go away from him, at the bottom
of his heart he will be glad."
"My love keeps growing more passionate and egoistic, while his is
waning and waning, and that's why we're drifting apart." She went on
musing. "And there's no help for it. He is everything for me, and I want
him more and more to give himself up to me entirely. And he wants more
and more to get away from me.
Precisely: we went to meet one another up
to the time of our liaison, and since then we have been irresistibly
drifting in different directions. And there's no altering that.
He tells
me I'm insanely jealous, and I have told myself that I am insanely
jealous; but it's not true. I'm not jealous, but I'm unsatisfied. But..."
she opened her lips, and shifted her place in the carriage in the
excitement, aroused by the thought that suddenly struck her.
"If I could
be anything but a mistress, passionately caring for nothing but his
caresses; but I can't, and I don't care to be anything else.
[ continued]
Love and death
If without loving me, from duty, he'll be good and kind to me, without what
I want- that's a thousand times worse than unkindness! That's hell! And
that's just how it is.
For a long while now he hasn't loved me. And where love ends, hate begins. I don't know these streets at all.
Hills,apparently, and still houses, and houses.... And in the houses always
people and people.... How many of them- no end, and all hating each
other! Come, let me try and think what I want to make me happy.
"A ticket to Obiralovka?" said Piotr.
She had utterly forgotten where and why she was going, and only by a
great effort she understood the question.
"Yes," she said, handing him her purse, and, taking a little red bag in
her hand, she got out of the carriage.
Making her way through the crowd to the first-class waiting room, she
gradually recollected all the details of her position, and the plans
between which she was hesitating.
And again at the old sore places, hope
and then despair scraped the wounds of her tortured, fearfully throbbing
heart.
As she sat on the star-shaped sofa waiting for the train, she
gazed with aversion at the people coming and going (they were all hateful
to her), and thought how she would arrive at the station, would write him
a note, and what she would write to him, and how he was at this moment
complaining , not understanding her
sufferings, and how she would go into the room, and what she would say to
him.
Then she thought that life might still be happy, and how miserably
she loved and hated him, and how fearfully her heart was beating.
[ continued]
I want- that's a thousand times worse than unkindness! That's hell! And
that's just how it is.
For a long while now he hasn't loved me. And where love ends, hate begins. I don't know these streets at all.
Hills,apparently, and still houses, and houses.... And in the houses always
people and people.... How many of them- no end, and all hating each
other! Come, let me try and think what I want to make me happy.
"A ticket to Obiralovka?" said Piotr.
She had utterly forgotten where and why she was going, and only by a
great effort she understood the question.
"Yes," she said, handing him her purse, and, taking a little red bag in
her hand, she got out of the carriage.
Making her way through the crowd to the first-class waiting room, she
gradually recollected all the details of her position, and the plans
between which she was hesitating.
And again at the old sore places, hope
and then despair scraped the wounds of her tortured, fearfully throbbing
heart.
As she sat on the star-shaped sofa waiting for the train, she
gazed with aversion at the people coming and going (they were all hateful
to her), and thought how she would arrive at the station, would write him
a note, and what she would write to him, and how he was at this moment
complaining , not understanding her
sufferings, and how she would go into the room, and what she would say to
him.
Then she thought that life might still be happy, and how miserably
she loved and hated him, and how fearfully her heart was beating.
[ continued]
Love and death
She stepped up
on the high step, and sat down in a carriage by herself on a dirty spring
seat that had once been white. Her bag lay beside her, shaken up and down
by the springiness of the seat.
With a foolish smile Piotr raised his
hat, with its gallooned band, at the window, in token of farewell; an
impudent conductor slammed the door and the latch.
A grotesque-looking
lady wearing a bustle (Anna mentally undressed the woman, and was
appalled at her hideousness), and a little girl laughing affectedly, ran
down the platform.
"Katerina Andreevna, she's got them all, ma tante!" cried the girl.
"Even the child's hideous and affected," thought Anna. To avoid seeing
anyone, she got up quickly and seated herself at the opposite window of
the empty carriage.
A misshapen-looking peasant covered with dirt, in a
cap from which his tangled hair stuck out all around, passed by that
window, stooping down to the carriage wheels. "There's something familiar
about that hideous peasant," thought Anna. And remembering her dream, she
moved away to the opposite door, shaking with terror. The conductor
opened the door and let in a man and his wife.
[continued]
on the high step, and sat down in a carriage by herself on a dirty spring
seat that had once been white. Her bag lay beside her, shaken up and down
by the springiness of the seat.
With a foolish smile Piotr raised his
hat, with its gallooned band, at the window, in token of farewell; an
impudent conductor slammed the door and the latch.
A grotesque-looking
lady wearing a bustle (Anna mentally undressed the woman, and was
appalled at her hideousness), and a little girl laughing affectedly, ran
down the platform.
"Katerina Andreevna, she's got them all, ma tante!" cried the girl.
"Even the child's hideous and affected," thought Anna. To avoid seeing
anyone, she got up quickly and seated herself at the opposite window of
the empty carriage.
A misshapen-looking peasant covered with dirt, in a
cap from which his tangled hair stuck out all around, passed by that
window, stooping down to the carriage wheels. "There's something familiar
about that hideous peasant," thought Anna. And remembering her dream, she
moved away to the opposite door, shaking with terror. The conductor
opened the door and let in a man and his wife.
[continued]
Love and death
She stepped up
on the high step, and sat down in a carriage by herself on a dirty spring
seat that had once been white. Her bag lay beside her, shaken up and down
by the springiness of the seat.
With a foolish smile Piotr raised his
hat, with its gallooned band, at the window, in token of farewell; an
impudent conductor slammed the door and the latch.
A grotesque-looking
lady wearing a bustle (Anna mentally undressed the woman, and was
appalled at her hideousness), and a little girl laughing affectedly, ran
down the platform.
"Katerina Andreevna, she's got them all, ma tante!" cried the girl.
"Even the child's hideous and affected," thought Anna. To avoid seeing
anyone, she got up quickly and seated herself at the opposite window of
the empty carriage.
A misshapen-looking peasant covered with dirt, in a
cap from which his tangled hair stuck out all around, passed by that
window, stooping down to the carriage wheels. "There's something familiar
about that hideous peasant," thought Anna. And remembering her dream, she
moved away to the opposite door, shaking with terror. The conductor
opened the door and let in a man and his wife.
[continued]
on the high step, and sat down in a carriage by herself on a dirty spring
seat that had once been white. Her bag lay beside her, shaken up and down
by the springiness of the seat.
With a foolish smile Piotr raised his
hat, with its gallooned band, at the window, in token of farewell; an
impudent conductor slammed the door and the latch.
A grotesque-looking
lady wearing a bustle (Anna mentally undressed the woman, and was
appalled at her hideousness), and a little girl laughing affectedly, ran
down the platform.
"Katerina Andreevna, she's got them all, ma tante!" cried the girl.
"Even the child's hideous and affected," thought Anna. To avoid seeing
anyone, she got up quickly and seated herself at the opposite window of
the empty carriage.
A misshapen-looking peasant covered with dirt, in a
cap from which his tangled hair stuck out all around, passed by that
window, stooping down to the carriage wheels. "There's something familiar
about that hideous peasant," thought Anna. And remembering her dream, she
moved away to the opposite door, shaking with terror. The conductor
opened the door and let in a man and his wife.
[continued]
Love and death
She stepped up
on the high step, and sat down in a carriage by herself on a dirty spring
seat that had once been white. Her bag lay beside her, shaken up and down
by the springiness of the seat.
With a foolish smile Piotr raised his
hat, with its gallooned band, at the window, in token of farewell; an
impudent conductor slammed the door and the latch.
A grotesque-looking
lady wearing a bustle (Anna mentally undressed the woman, and was
appalled at her hideousness), and a little girl laughing affectedly, ran
down the platform.
"Katerina Andreevna, she's got them all, ma tante!" cried the girl.
"Even the child's hideous and affected," thought Anna. To avoid seeing
anyone, she got up quickly and seated herself at the opposite window of
the empty carriage.
A misshapen-looking peasant covered with dirt, in a
cap from which his tangled hair stuck out all around, passed by that
window, stooping down to the carriage wheels. "There's something familiar
about that hideous peasant," thought Anna. And remembering her dream, she
moved away to the opposite door, shaking with terror. The conductor
opened the door and let in a man and his wife.
[continued]
on the high step, and sat down in a carriage by herself on a dirty spring
seat that had once been white. Her bag lay beside her, shaken up and down
by the springiness of the seat.
With a foolish smile Piotr raised his
hat, with its gallooned band, at the window, in token of farewell; an
impudent conductor slammed the door and the latch.
A grotesque-looking
lady wearing a bustle (Anna mentally undressed the woman, and was
appalled at her hideousness), and a little girl laughing affectedly, ran
down the platform.
"Katerina Andreevna, she's got them all, ma tante!" cried the girl.
"Even the child's hideous and affected," thought Anna. To avoid seeing
anyone, she got up quickly and seated herself at the opposite window of
the empty carriage.
A misshapen-looking peasant covered with dirt, in a
cap from which his tangled hair stuck out all around, passed by that
window, stooping down to the carriage wheels. "There's something familiar
about that hideous peasant," thought Anna. And remembering her dream, she
moved away to the opposite door, shaking with terror. The conductor
opened the door and let in a man and his wife.
[continued]
Love and death
"Do you wish to get out?"
Anna made no answer. The conductor and her two fellow passengers did
not notice under her veil her panic-stricken face. She went back to her
corner and sat down. The couple seated themselves on the opposite side,
and intently but surreptitiously scrutinized her clothes. Both husband
and wife seemed repulsive to Anna.
The husband asked if she would allow
him to smoke, obviously not with a view to smoking, but to getting into
conversation with her. Receiving her assent, he said to his wife in
French something about caring less to smoke than to talk. They made inane
and affected remarks to one another, entirely for her benefit. Anna saw
clearly that they were sick of each other, and hated each other. And no
one could have helped hating such miserable monstrosities.
"Yes, what did I stop at? That I couldn't find a condition in which
life would not be a misery, that we are all created to be miserable, and
that we all know it, and all invent means of deceiving each other. And
when one sees the truth, what is one to do?"
"That's why reason is given to man, to escape from what worries him,"
said the lady in French, lisping affectedly, and obviously pleased with
her phrase.
"Yes, I'm very much worried, and that's why reason was given me, to
escape; so then, one must escape: why not put out the light when there's
nothing more to look at, when it's sickening to look at it all? But how?
Why did the conductor run along the footboard, why are they shrieking,
those young men in that train? Why are they talking, why are they
laughing? It's all falsehood, all lying, all humbug, all cruelty!..."
When the train came into the station, Anna got out into the crowd of
passengers, and moving apart from them as if they were lepers, she stood
on the platform, trying to think what she had come here for, and what she
meant to do. Everything that had seemed to her possible before was now so
difficult to consider, especially in this noisy crowd of hideous people
who would not leave her alone.
At one moment porters ran up to her
proffering their services, then young men clacking their heels on the
planks of the platform and talking loudly, stared at her, then people
meeting her dodged past on the wrong side.
Anna made no answer. The conductor and her two fellow passengers did
not notice under her veil her panic-stricken face. She went back to her
corner and sat down. The couple seated themselves on the opposite side,
and intently but surreptitiously scrutinized her clothes. Both husband
and wife seemed repulsive to Anna.
The husband asked if she would allow
him to smoke, obviously not with a view to smoking, but to getting into
conversation with her. Receiving her assent, he said to his wife in
French something about caring less to smoke than to talk. They made inane
and affected remarks to one another, entirely for her benefit. Anna saw
clearly that they were sick of each other, and hated each other. And no
one could have helped hating such miserable monstrosities.
"Yes, what did I stop at? That I couldn't find a condition in which
life would not be a misery, that we are all created to be miserable, and
that we all know it, and all invent means of deceiving each other. And
when one sees the truth, what is one to do?"
"That's why reason is given to man, to escape from what worries him,"
said the lady in French, lisping affectedly, and obviously pleased with
her phrase.
"Yes, I'm very much worried, and that's why reason was given me, to
escape; so then, one must escape: why not put out the light when there's
nothing more to look at, when it's sickening to look at it all? But how?
Why did the conductor run along the footboard, why are they shrieking,
those young men in that train? Why are they talking, why are they
laughing? It's all falsehood, all lying, all humbug, all cruelty!..."
When the train came into the station, Anna got out into the crowd of
passengers, and moving apart from them as if they were lepers, she stood
on the platform, trying to think what she had come here for, and what she
meant to do. Everything that had seemed to her possible before was now so
difficult to consider, especially in this noisy crowd of hideous people
who would not leave her alone.
At one moment porters ran up to her
proffering their services, then young men clacking their heels on the
planks of the platform and talking loudly, stared at her, then people
meeting her dodged past on the wrong side.
Love and death
"Do you wish to get out?"
Anna made no answer. The conductor and her two fellow passengers did
not notice under her veil her panic-stricken face. She went back to her
corner and sat down. The couple seated themselves on the opposite side,
and intently but surreptitiously scrutinized her clothes. Both husband
and wife seemed repulsive to Anna.
The husband asked if she would allow
him to smoke, obviously not with a view to smoking, but to getting into
conversation with her. Receiving her assent, he said to his wife in
French something about caring less to smoke than to talk. They made inane
and affected remarks to one another, entirely for her benefit. Anna saw
clearly that they were sick of each other, and hated each other. And no
one could have helped hating such miserable monstrosities.
"Yes, what did I stop at? That I couldn't find a condition in which
life would not be a misery, that we are all created to be miserable, and
that we all know it, and all invent means of deceiving each other. And
when one sees the truth, what is one to do?"
"That's why reason is given to man, to escape from what worries him,"
said the lady in French, lisping affectedly, and obviously pleased with
her phrase.
"Yes, I'm very much worried, and that's why reason was given me, to
escape; so then, one must escape: why not put out the light when there's
nothing more to look at, when it's sickening to look at it all? But how?
Why did the conductor run along the footboard, why are they shrieking,
those young men in that train? Why are they talking, why are they
laughing? It's all falsehood, all lying, all humbug, all cruelty!..."
When the train came into the station, Anna got out into the crowd of
passengers, and moving apart from them as if they were lepers, she stood
on the platform, trying to think what she had come here for, and what she
meant to do. Everything that had seemed to her possible before was now so
difficult to consider, especially in this noisy crowd of hideous people
who would not leave her alone.
At one moment porters ran up to her
proffering their services, then young men clacking their heels on the
planks of the platform and talking loudly, stared at her, then people
meeting her dodged past on the wrong side.
Anna made no answer. The conductor and her two fellow passengers did
not notice under her veil her panic-stricken face. She went back to her
corner and sat down. The couple seated themselves on the opposite side,
and intently but surreptitiously scrutinized her clothes. Both husband
and wife seemed repulsive to Anna.
The husband asked if she would allow
him to smoke, obviously not with a view to smoking, but to getting into
conversation with her. Receiving her assent, he said to his wife in
French something about caring less to smoke than to talk. They made inane
and affected remarks to one another, entirely for her benefit. Anna saw
clearly that they were sick of each other, and hated each other. And no
one could have helped hating such miserable monstrosities.
"Yes, what did I stop at? That I couldn't find a condition in which
life would not be a misery, that we are all created to be miserable, and
that we all know it, and all invent means of deceiving each other. And
when one sees the truth, what is one to do?"
"That's why reason is given to man, to escape from what worries him,"
said the lady in French, lisping affectedly, and obviously pleased with
her phrase.
"Yes, I'm very much worried, and that's why reason was given me, to
escape; so then, one must escape: why not put out the light when there's
nothing more to look at, when it's sickening to look at it all? But how?
Why did the conductor run along the footboard, why are they shrieking,
those young men in that train? Why are they talking, why are they
laughing? It's all falsehood, all lying, all humbug, all cruelty!..."
When the train came into the station, Anna got out into the crowd of
passengers, and moving apart from them as if they were lepers, she stood
on the platform, trying to think what she had come here for, and what she
meant to do. Everything that had seemed to her possible before was now so
difficult to consider, especially in this noisy crowd of hideous people
who would not leave her alone.
At one moment porters ran up to her
proffering their services, then young men clacking their heels on the
planks of the platform and talking loudly, stared at her, then people
meeting her dodged past on the wrong side.
Love and death
Remembering that she had meant
to go on farther if there was no answer, she stopped a porter and asked
if her coachman were not here with a note from Count Vronsky.
"Count Vronsky? They sent up here from the Vronskys just this minute,
to meet Princess Sorokina and her daughter. And what is the coachman
like?"
Just as she was talking to the porter, the coachman Mikhail, red and
cheerful in his smart blue coat and chain, evidently proud of having so
successfully performed his commission, came up to her and gave her a
letter.
She broke it open, and her heart ached before she had read it.
"I am very sorry your note did not reach me. I will be home at ten,"
Vronsky had written carelessly.
"Yes, that's what I expected!" she said to herself with an evil smile.
Two maidservants walking along the platform turned their heads, staring
at her and making some remarks about her dress. "Real," they said of the
lace she was wearing.
The young men would not leave her in peace. Again
they passed by, peering into her face, and with a laugh shouting
something in an unnatural voice.
The stationmaster coming up asked her
whether she was going by the train. A boy selling kvass never took his
eyes off her.
"My God! Where am I to go?" she thought, going farther and
farther along the platform. At the end she stopped. Some ladies and
children, who had come to meet a gentleman in spectacles, paused in their
loud laughter and talking, and stared at her as she reached them.
She
quickened her pace and walked away from them to the edge of the platform.
A goods train was coming in. The platform began to sway, and she fancied
she was in the train again.
[ continued]
[This message has been edited by Van Canna (edited September 13, 2000).]
to go on farther if there was no answer, she stopped a porter and asked
if her coachman were not here with a note from Count Vronsky.
"Count Vronsky? They sent up here from the Vronskys just this minute,
to meet Princess Sorokina and her daughter. And what is the coachman
like?"
Just as she was talking to the porter, the coachman Mikhail, red and
cheerful in his smart blue coat and chain, evidently proud of having so
successfully performed his commission, came up to her and gave her a
letter.
She broke it open, and her heart ached before she had read it.
"I am very sorry your note did not reach me. I will be home at ten,"
Vronsky had written carelessly.
"Yes, that's what I expected!" she said to herself with an evil smile.
Two maidservants walking along the platform turned their heads, staring
at her and making some remarks about her dress. "Real," they said of the
lace she was wearing.
The young men would not leave her in peace. Again
they passed by, peering into her face, and with a laugh shouting
something in an unnatural voice.
The stationmaster coming up asked her
whether she was going by the train. A boy selling kvass never took his
eyes off her.
"My God! Where am I to go?" she thought, going farther and
farther along the platform. At the end she stopped. Some ladies and
children, who had come to meet a gentleman in spectacles, paused in their
loud laughter and talking, and stared at her as she reached them.
She
quickened her pace and walked away from them to the edge of the platform.
A goods train was coming in. The platform began to sway, and she fancied
she was in the train again.
[ continued]
[This message has been edited by Van Canna (edited September 13, 2000).]
Love and death
And all at once she thought of the man crushed by the train the day she
had first met Vronsky, and she knew what she had to do.
With a rapid,light step she went down the steps that led from the platform to the
rails and stopped quite near the approaching train.
She looked at the
lower part of the carriages, at the screws and chains, and the tall
cast-iron wheel of the first carriage slowly moving up, and tried to
measure the middle between the front and back wheels, and the very minute
when that middle point would be opposite her.
"There," she said to herself, looking into the shadow of the carriage,
at the sand and coal dust which covered the sleepers- "there, in the very
middle, and I will punish him and escape from everyone and from myself."
She tried to fling herself below the wheels of the first car as it
reached her; but the red bag which she tried to drop out of her hand
delayed her, and she was too late; she missed the middle of the car. She
had to wait for the next one.
A feeling such as she had known when about
to take the first plunge in bathing came upon her, and she crossed
herself.
That familiar gesture of crossing brought back into her soul a
whole series of girlish and childish memories, and suddenly the darkness
that had covered everything for her was torn apart, and life rose up
before her for an instant with all its bright past joys.
But she did not
take her eyes from the wheels of the second car.
[ continued ]
had first met Vronsky, and she knew what she had to do.
With a rapid,light step she went down the steps that led from the platform to the
rails and stopped quite near the approaching train.
She looked at the
lower part of the carriages, at the screws and chains, and the tall
cast-iron wheel of the first carriage slowly moving up, and tried to
measure the middle between the front and back wheels, and the very minute
when that middle point would be opposite her.
"There," she said to herself, looking into the shadow of the carriage,
at the sand and coal dust which covered the sleepers- "there, in the very
middle, and I will punish him and escape from everyone and from myself."
She tried to fling herself below the wheels of the first car as it
reached her; but the red bag which she tried to drop out of her hand
delayed her, and she was too late; she missed the middle of the car. She
had to wait for the next one.
A feeling such as she had known when about
to take the first plunge in bathing came upon her, and she crossed
herself.
That familiar gesture of crossing brought back into her soul a
whole series of girlish and childish memories, and suddenly the darkness
that had covered everything for her was torn apart, and life rose up
before her for an instant with all its bright past joys.
But she did not
take her eyes from the wheels of the second car.
[ continued ]
Love and death
And exactly at the
moment when the space between the wheels came opposite her, she dropped
the red bag, and drawing her head back into her shoulders, fell on her
hands under the car, and lightly, as though she would rise again at once,
dropped onto her knees.
And at the same instant she was terror-stricken
at what she was doing. "Where am I? What am I doing? What for?" She tried
to get up, to drop backward; but something huge and merciless struck her
on the head and drew along on her back.
"Lord, forgive me all!" she said,
feeling it impossible to struggle.
And the candle by which she had been reading the
book filled with troubles, falsehoods, sorrow, and evil, flared up more
brightly than ever before, lighted up for her all that had been in
darkness, sputtered, began to grow dim, and was quenched forever.
[ continued]
moment when the space between the wheels came opposite her, she dropped
the red bag, and drawing her head back into her shoulders, fell on her
hands under the car, and lightly, as though she would rise again at once,
dropped onto her knees.
And at the same instant she was terror-stricken
at what she was doing. "Where am I? What am I doing? What for?" She tried
to get up, to drop backward; but something huge and merciless struck her
on the head and drew along on her back.
"Lord, forgive me all!" she said,
feeling it impossible to struggle.
And the candle by which she had been reading the
book filled with troubles, falsehoods, sorrow, and evil, flared up more
brightly than ever before, lighted up for her all that had been in
darkness, sputtered, began to grow dim, and was quenched forever.
[ continued]
Love and death
He was silent, and his eyes rested on
the wheels of the tender, slowly and smoothly rolling along the rails.
And all at once a different pain, not an ache, but an inner trouble,
that set his whole being in anguish .
As he glanced at the tender and the rails, under the influence
of the conversation with a friend he had not met since his misfortune, he
suddenly recalled her- that is, what was left of her when he had run like
one distraught into the barrack of the railway station: on the table,
shamelessly sprawling out among strangers, the bloodstained body so
lately full of life; the head unhurt dropping back with its weight of
hair, and the curling tresses about the temples, and the exquisite face,
with red, half-opened mouth, the strange, fixed expression, piteous on
the lips and awful in the still open eyes, that seemed to utter that
fearful phrase- that he would be sorry for it- which she had said when
they were quarreling.
And he tried to think of her as she was when he met her the first time,
at a railway station too, mysterious, exquisite, loving, seeking and
giving happiness, and not cruelly revengeful as he remembered her at that
last moment. He tried to recall his best moments with her, but those
moments were poisoned forever.
The End [ Anna karenina ] __ Tolstoy
the wheels of the tender, slowly and smoothly rolling along the rails.
And all at once a different pain, not an ache, but an inner trouble,
that set his whole being in anguish .
As he glanced at the tender and the rails, under the influence
of the conversation with a friend he had not met since his misfortune, he
suddenly recalled her- that is, what was left of her when he had run like
one distraught into the barrack of the railway station: on the table,
shamelessly sprawling out among strangers, the bloodstained body so
lately full of life; the head unhurt dropping back with its weight of
hair, and the curling tresses about the temples, and the exquisite face,
with red, half-opened mouth, the strange, fixed expression, piteous on
the lips and awful in the still open eyes, that seemed to utter that
fearful phrase- that he would be sorry for it- which she had said when
they were quarreling.
And he tried to think of her as she was when he met her the first time,
at a railway station too, mysterious, exquisite, loving, seeking and
giving happiness, and not cruelly revengeful as he remembered her at that
last moment. He tried to recall his best moments with her, but those
moments were poisoned forever.
The End [ Anna karenina ] __ Tolstoy
