Chapter 2 Negro slaves of Peter the Great (2)

Chapter Four Our ancestors ate slowly, Persuading people to drink again and again, Crocks filled with shochu, The foam of the beer billowed in the silver cup. "Ruslan and Lyudmila"① ① "Ruslan and Lyudmila" is a long poem by Pushkin. Now I would like to introduce Gavrila Alfonasyevich Rzhevsky to the kind readers.He was born in an ancient noble family, owned a lot of property, was a generous and hospitable person, loved falconry and hunting, and had many servants.In a word, he was a Russian gentleman through and through.According to him, he could not stand the German way, and tried to stick to the lovely old customs in his family life.

His daughter was seventeen years old, and her mother died when she was a child.Her education was old-fashioned, that is, surrounded by groups of nurses, nurses, maids and maids, she learned needlework and embroidery, but could not read.Her father, who hated all things overseas, could not object to his daughter learning foreign dances from a Swedish officer who lived in his house.This worthy dance teacher was fifty years old, and his right leg had been shot through at the battle of Narva, so it was not suitable for dancing the minuet and the courante.However, his left leg is very strong, with amazing skills and flexibility, and he can make the most difficult movements with a "la".The female disciple did not disappoint his hard work.Natalia Gavrinovna's reputation as the best dancer at the ball was partly due to Korsakov's fault.The next day the man came to teach Gavrila Alfonasyevich.But the young dude's quick-wittedness and stylish attire displeased the haughty aristocrat, and he called him a French monkey in spite of himself.

This day is a holiday.Gavrila Alfonasiyevich was expecting some relatives and friends.In the old-fashioned living room, the long table is covered with a tablecloth.The guests came one after another, bringing their wives and children with them.Thanks to the imperial decree and the example set by the emperor himself, these female relatives were freed from the confinement of family rules.Natalya Gavrinovna toasted each guest on a silver tray with gold cups.Each drank a glass with regret, for the ancient custom of kissing on such occasions was now out of the question.Everyone sit down.Sitting next to his host was his father-in-law, Prince Boris Alexievich Lykov, a nobleman of seventy years of age.The other guests are seated in order of seniority.This naturally reminds people of the beautiful past that was heavily guarded.They took their seats, the men on one side and the women on the other.At the head of the table sat, as usual, the hostess's lady in an old-fashioned waistcoat and a small hat, and the dwarf, a wrinkled baby of thirty years old who sat upright, and the Swedish captive soldier in blue Old military uniform.There were many cups and plates on the table, and there were many servants busy all around. Among them, the butler was particularly conspicuous. He had a big belly, behaved solemnly, and looked at people with arrogant eyes.The first moments of the feast were all unanimously dedicated to the wonderful creations of our ancient kitchen.The dishes and spoons made a loud noise, but none of them spoke.At the end, the host realized that it was time to entertain the guests with pleasant conversation, so he turned his head and asked, "Where is Yekimovna? ​​Call her here!" Several servants separated to look for it.

In an instant, an old woman, painted red and powdered, beautifully dressed, wearing a round robe embroidered with gold and brocade, with her breasts and arms exposed, sang and danced, beautifully appearing on the stage.Her presence enthused all the guests. "Hello, Yekimovna," said Prince Lykov, "how are you doing?" "Father! Thank God, everything is going well. Dance and sing, close the door and wait for my lover." "What are you doing, silly girl?" asked the master. "Entertain the distinguished guests! Dress up, celebrate God's festival, follow the instructions of the master, follow the imperial decree of the tsar, learn the style of foreigners, and make everyone laugh and hurt their stomachs!"

There was a roar of laughter.The fool slipped behind the master's chair and took the seat. "Look at the fool's nonsense. But the nonsense speaks the truth," said Tatyana Alfonasiyevna, the master's dear and dear sister. "The whole world is laughing out loud at the present dress." , This is not false at all. Old man! You yourself have shaved off your beard and put on a narrow shirt. Then, don’t dislike these stinky rags worn by women! What a pity! Those Russian girls The gown is antique, and the girl's ribbon and shawl are gone forever. Look at the beauty of today! It is ridiculous and pitiful. The hair is disheveled, covered with sesame oil, and sprinkled with French flour. Limbs are tight and stiff, and the stomach is strangled so that you can't turn. The petticoats are tightly hooped. You have to turn sideways when you get in the car, and you have to be careful when you enter the door. You can't stand, you can't sit down, and you can't breathe. Lovely beauty Son, what a crime!"

"Ouch! Old aunt Tatyana Alfonasiyevna!" said Kirila Petrovich, who was the warden of Ryazan and earned three thousand serfs and a beautiful wife by any means during his tenure. "For me, I can wear it as my wife: it doesn't matter if it's bloated or ugly, or it doesn't matter if you are shivering in the cold, as long as you don't order new clothes every month, but throw away the old ones. In the past, the grandmother's long gown was passed on to the granddaughter. Dowry, and now? Look: the French shirt is worn on the wife today, and given to the maid tomorrow. What to do? The Russian nobles are bound to go bankrupt! What a disaster!" He sighed as he said this. In one breath, he glanced at his young wife, Maria Ilinichna.She, on the other hand, seemed in no way interested in celebrating the old way of life or satirizing fashion.The other beauties felt the same as her and were also very dissatisfied, but they kept silent, because modesty was regarded as a necessary quality for young wives.

"Whose fault is it?" said Gavrila Alfonasiyevich, stirring up the sour cabbage soup. "Could it be us? We do appease the young women who show off." "We can't do it! What are we supposed to do?" said Kirila Petrovich. "Some people may be willing to lock their wife in the boudoir, but there are people who welcome her to the ball with gongs and drums. The husband waved the whip, and the wife fiddled with fashion." .Alas! These damned balls! God has punished us for our sins with them." Maria Ilyinichna was sitting on pins and needles, her tongue was itching, and at last she could bear it no longer, and turning to her husband, with a sour smile, asked: "What's wrong with the dance?"

"It's not good!" replied the angry husband. "Since the ball was held, how many couples have turned against each other. The wives have forgotten the commandment of the saints: fear their husbands. They don't do housework, they just want to put on new makeup; they don't think about how to serve their husbands, but How can you keep the frivolous officers on your heels? Ma'am! Russian aristocratic ladies and ladies should hang out with smoking Germans and their maids, what's the matter? You've heard about dancing and talking with young men all night long. What's the matter? Young men can be forgiven if they're relatives. But it's a bunch of gringoes who don't know each other."

"As soon as the words were spoken, the wolf came to the house," said Gavrila Alfonasiyevich, frowning. "I must confess that those balls are not to my liking. If you are not careful, you will definitely meet a drunkard. Or, get drunk and make a fool of yourself in public. Inadvertently, a frivolous ghost pops up to make fun of your daughter. Modern youth is spoiled and turned into an idiot. For example, the dead Yevgraf Sergeyevich Korsakov's son made such a fuss about Natasha at the last party that I blushed to my ears. The next day I saw a carriage drive into the I thought, who did God send? Prince Alexander Danilovich? No! It was Ivan Evgrafevich! It was him! Probably he didn’t bother to park his car at the gate , too lazy to walk up to the steps. Look! He flew through the gate in a gust of wind, saluted and babbled nonsense... Fool Yekimovna imitated his movements very vividly. It happened that she was here. Come on, fool! Try to be like that French monkey."

The idiot Yekimovna dragged a dish lid over her hand, held it under her armpits as if she were a hat, and then made a show, winked, clacked her heels, and bowed all around, speaking broken French. call out: "Master...Miss...there's a dance...Please do me a favor!" The hall roared with laughter, and the guests were once again elated. "Live, just like that Korsakov!" said old Prince Lykov, wiping away his tears when the laughter had died down, "it must be admitted that he was neither the first nor the last frivolous libertine." , with wireless heels, drifting back to holy Russia from overseas. What can our children learn abroad? Learn to pay respects, learn to chew tongues, talk nonsense in a language that the devil knows, and be disrespectful Elders and chasing wives. Among these foreign-educated young men, (God forgive them!) only the Tsar's black slaves are human!"

"Of course," said Gavrila Alfonasiyevich, "this young man is very stable, very decent, not to be compared with those frivolous bums... Whose car drove through the gate again and came into the yard? Is it that overseas monkey again? Why are you standing still? Beasts!" He turned to the servant and shouted, "Run! get out of the way!Otherwise it will..." "Grandpa bearded, you're talking nonsense again!" interrupted the fool Yekimovna, "you're blind! That's the Holy Majesty's sleigh, and the Tsar is coming!" Gavrila Alfonasiyevich immediately got up from the table.Everyone rushed to the window and indeed saw the Tsar.He went up the steps, leaning on the shoulder of an orderly.There was a rush.The host rushed up to meet Peter.The servants ran to and fro as if they had grown foolish.The guests were timid, and some even wanted to get away and go home as soon as possible.In an instant, Peter's sonorous voice sounded in the front hall.All quiet down.The Tsar entered, accompanied by his flattered host. "Hello, gentlemen!" Peter greeted everyone with a smile on his face.Everyone present bowed to him.The tsar's sharp eyes quickly scanned the crowd, looking for the owner's youngest daughter.He called her over.Natalia Gavrinovna came forward rather boldly, but blushed not only to her ears but to her shoulders. "You are growing more beautiful every day!" said Peter to her, and kissed her on the head in his old fashion.Then he turned to his guests: "What's the matter? I've disturbed you! Oh! We're eating. Please sit down and eat! Gavrila Alfonasiyevich! Just give me a glass of ouzo." The host He rushed to the fat butler, snatched the tray from his hand, filled the gold cup with his own hands, and bowed his head to present it to the emperor.Peter took a sip, ate some sweet rolls, and again invited the guests to continue eating.Everyone sit down.The only exceptions were the dwarf and the master's lady, who dared not share a table with the Tsar.Peter sat down beside his master and ordered a bowl of soup.The tsar's valet handed him a wooden spoon inlaid with ivory, a knife, and a fork with a green bone handle.Because Peter never used any utensils other than those he had brought for himself.The meal, which a minute before had been full of conversation and laughter, was now silent and timid.The owner ate nothing because he cared about his dignity and was sincerely happy.The guests, too, were prim and respectful, listening to the emperor discuss the war of 1701 in German with the captured Swede.The fool Yekimovna was questioned several times by the emperor, and she answered with a timid but assertive manner, which proved that she was not stupid at all.The banquet is finally over.The emperor got up.The guests followed suit. ① Refers to the war in which Sweden attacked Lithuania in 1701. "Gavrila Alfonasiyevich!" said the Emperor to his host, "I want to speak to you alone." Seizing him by the hand, he led him into the drawing-room, and shut the door behind him. The guests remained in the dining room, guessing in whispers about this sudden visit, and, fearing that they would not be submissive, they dispersed one by one, not having time to express their gratitude to the host for the hospitality.The host's father-in-law, daughter, and sister quietly escorted the guests to the gate, and then returned to the dining room, waiting for the Tsar to come out. chapter Five i will find you a wife Otherwise I'm not a miller. Abresimov's opera "The Miller" ① Quoted from the opera "The Miller, the Wizard, the Liar and the Matchmaker" by Abresimov. Half an hour later the door opened and Peter came out.Prince Lykov, Tatiana Alfonasiyevna, and Natasha bowed three times to him.He nodded solemnly in reply, and then went straight into the antechamber.The master brought him a red-faced fur cloak, escorted him to the sleigh, and stood on the steps to thank him again for the favor bestowed on him.Peter is gone. Back in the dining room, Gavrila Alfonasiyevich looked very preoccupied.He angrily ordered the servants to remove the leftovers at once, sent Natasha to her boudoir, announced to his sister and father-in-law that he wanted to talk to them, and led them into the bedroom where he often rested after dinner.The old prince reclined on the oak bed.Tatyana Alfonasiyevna was sitting in an old damask armchair and moved her feet to a low stool.Gavrila Alfonasiyevich closed the doors, sat down on the edge of the bed at Prince Lykov's feet, and whispered the following: "The emperor was lucky to be in my house, and there was a reason. Guess what the tsar told me?" "How can we know, brother?" said Tatyana Alfonasiyevna. "Did the tsar appoint you to be an overseer?" said the father-in-law. "It's about time. Maybe he chose you to be an ambassador? Why? Those who are sent to foreign kings should be famous people, not all of them. young secretary." "No!" returned the son-in-law, frowning, "I'm an old-fashioned man, and we're not needed now, though the glorious Russian nobility may be worth more than pie-makers and heretics who are fashionable today. But that's another story." ① Refers to Peter the Great's thigh and most favored minister Menshikov, because he sold pies when he was a child. "What was the talk, brother? What was the talk of the Tsar with you for so long?" said Tatyana Alfonasiyevna. !" "Not a disaster. I admit it, but let me think about it." "What's the matter, brother? About what?" "About Natasha: the Tsar has come to match her." "Thank God!" said Tatiana Alfonasiyevna, making the sign of the cross, "it's time for a girl to marry. There is such a matchmaker as there is a bridegroom. God bless the husband and the wife, and he will live forever." Old man, it is an honor for the emperor to be a matchmaker! Who is the bridegroom that the emperor is the matchmaker for?" "Hmm!" Gavrila Alfonasiyevich groaned. "Who? Come!" "Who is it?" Prince Lykov asked again, he was about to doze off. "Guess!" said Gavrila Alfonasiyevich. "Brother! How can we guess?" replied the old lady. "Aren't there too many young men in the palace? Everyone wants to marry your Natasha. Is it Durgoruki?" "No! Not Durgoruki." "That's good! This man has eyes on his forehead. Is it Shein, or Troyekurov?" "No! Neither." "I don't like either of those two: they're both frivolous, German-looking. Miroslawski, then?" "No! Not him either." "God be with him. He has a lot of money, but he's pitifully stupid. Why, Yeletsky? Lvov? No? Rakuchinsky? I can't guess. Tell me! Tsar Who was the matchmaker for Natasha?" "Black Ibrahim." The old lady groaned, raised her hands and clapped her hands.Prince Lykov lifted his head from the pillow and cried out in fear: "Ibrahim the black slave!" "Brother!" the old lady said in a sobbing voice, "don't ruin your own child. Don't ever throw Natasha to that nigger's clutches! " "But how can you refuse the Emperor? For this he has bestowed upon me and our family such great favors," retorted Gavrila Alfonasiyevich. "What?" sighed the old prince, when his drowsiness was gone. "Marrying Natasha, my granddaughter, to a bought nigger?" "He was of unusual origin," said Gavrila Alfonasiyevich, "he was the son of a black sultan, who was taken captive by the infidels and sold in Constantinople, where our envoy rescued him." Him, give him to the Tsar. His brother came to Russia and brought a handsome ransom. Then..." "Grandpa! Gavrila Alfonasiyevich!" interrupted the old lady, "we're tired of hearing stories about Prince Yeroslan Rachalevich of Pova. You'd better hurry up." Tell us how you reported back to the emperor." ①It means an old-fashioned story. "I said, the emperor's kindness is mighty, and those who are ministers will obey all orders." At this time, there was a sound outside the door.Gavrila Alfonasiyevich went to open the door, but feeling that it was blocked, he pulled hard, and it opened—and Natasha was lying unconscious on the bloodstained floor. When the emperor was locked in the room with his father for a secret conversation, her heart tightened suddenly, and she had a premonition: she was involved in the matter.When her father pushed her away, saying he wanted to talk to her aunt and grandfather, she could not resist the lure of female curiosity, and she crept quietly through the inner rooms to the door of her father's bedroom.Therefore, she overheard every word of the terrible conversation just now.At the last words her father had just uttered, the poor girl lost consciousness, fell down, and hit her head on the tin box in which her dowry was kept. People run in.Natasha was picked up, carried into her embroidery room, and put on the bed.Soon she woke up, opened her eyes, and did not recognize her father and aunt.She had a high fever and babbled about the Tsar's black slaves and marriage.Suddenly, in a pitiful, piercing voice, she cried: "Valerion, dear Valerion! My life! Come and save me! They are coming, they are coming! . . ." She glanced uneasily at her brother.He turned pale, bit his lip, and walked out of the room without saying a word.He returned to the old prince who had remained downstairs, unable to climb the stairs. "How is Natasha?" asked Grandpa. "Not good," replied the distraught father. "It's worse than I thought: she's insane, and she's thinking about Valerion." "Who is this Valerion?" asked the excited old man, "is it the son of the Firearms Guards, the orphan who was educated in your house?" "That's him," answered Gavrila Alfonasiyevich. "It's my fault that his father saved my life during the riot. God knows why I took the little wolf in. Two years ago, should At his request, he was registered in the regiment. When saying goodbye to him, Natasha cried a lot, and he stood there in a daze. I thought it was suspicious and told my sister. But since then Afterwards, Natasha never mentioned him. And since there was no news of him, I thought she had forgotten him. Alas! Did not forget.Fate was sealed: she must marry a Negro! " ①Russia's earliest standing army (infantry) equipped with firearms was established by Ivan IV (1550). In 1698, several rebellions occurred in the Firearms Guards. Peter suppressed the rebellion and disbanded the entire Firearms Guards. regular army. Prince Lykov had no objection, because it would be futile to object.He went home by car.Tatyana Alfonasiyevna was at Natasha's bedside.Gavrila Alfonasiyevich sent for the doctor and locked himself in his room.His home seemed very still and miserable. Ibrahim was astonished at the sudden kiss to him, at least as much as Gavrila Alfonasiyevich.It happened like this: Peter and Ibrahim were on business once, and suddenly he said to him: "I see, brother! You are not in a good mood! Tell me frankly, what do you lack?" Ibrahim Kim confesses to the emperor that he is very satisfied with his situation and does not want better days. "Very well!" said the emperor, "if you are depressed and you can't find any reason, then I know how to make you happy." After finishing his business, Peter asked Ibrahim: "Do you like the girl you danced with last time?" "Your Majesty! She is lovely. A humble, good girl, it seems." "Then I will introduce you to her as soon as possible. Do you want to marry her?" "Me, Your Majesty?" "Listen to me, Ibrahim! You are all alone here, with no one but me. If I die today, what will you do tomorrow? My poor black person! You should build a Nest, while there is still time. Let you marry the Russian nobleman, so that you can find a backer in your new blood relationship." "Your Majesty! I am very happy to be protected and favored by Your Majesty. God be gracious, don't let me live longer than my Emperor and benefactor. I don't want to think about anything else. However, if it means marriage, then , will that young girl and her parents agree? My looks..." "What about your appearance? What absurdity! Is there anything you can't do with a young man? A young girl should obey the will of her parents. Well, wait and see! When I match you, look at Gavrila Say what Rhevsky said!" With this the Tsar ordered the sleigh to go away, leaving Ibrahim in deep thought. "Marry!" the African thought to himself, "why not? Am I doomed to be single, unable to try the proper pleasures and sacred duties of a human being just because I was born in the latitude of × × degrees north? I cannot expect to be Love is a childish fantasy. Is it possible to believe in love? Is there really such a thing as love in the frivolous hearts of women? Abandon that lovely confusion forever. I have chosen another kind of temptation—a more real temptation. The emperor said Yes, I should secure my future. Marriage to young Rzhevskaya will unite me with the proud Russian nobility, and save me from being a stranger in my new country. From my wife I will I don't want love, but I am content if she is faithful. I will win her friendship with my usual tenderness, trust, and humility." As usual, Ibrahim wanted to do something now, but his thoughts were too confused.He put down his papers and went out to wander along the banks of the Neva.Suddenly he heard Peter's voice.He turned his head and saw the emperor.Peter got out of the sleigh and came up on foot, his face glowing. "Boy! It's all over," said Peter, taking his hand. "I'm telling you. Go and see your father-in-law tomorrow! But you'll have to cater to his aristocratic pride and tell him Talk to him with deep admiration for his feats and fame. That way, I'm sure he'll please you. Well! Now lead me to the crook Darinitch! I'll settle with him for his last trick. tent," said Peter, waving his thick cane. Ibrahim expressed his heartfelt gratitude to Peter for his fatherly care, led him to Prince Menshikov's splendid palace, and then went home himself. Chapter Six An oil lamp was silently burning in front of the glass shrine, and the gold and silver clothing of the ancestral icon shone brightly. The dithering light faintly illuminated a bed with the curtains down and a small table. vials.By the fire sat a girl spinning a spinning wheel.Only the soft whirling of the spindle broke the silence of the boudoir. "Who's here?" said a faint voice.The girl immediately got up, walked to the bed, and gently opened the curtain. "Is it almost daylight?" asked Natasha. "It's noon now." The girl replied. "Oh! My God! Why is it so dark?" "The windows are shut, madam!" "Help me get dressed and get up quickly." "No! The doctor won't let me. Miss!" "Am I sick? How long?" "It's been two weeks." "Oh! Really? I feel as if I just lay down yesterday..." Natasha fell silent.She tried to clear her messy thoughts, remembering that something happened, what exactly was it?She can't remember.The girl has been standing in front of her, waiting for her orders.At this time, there was a noisy sound. "What's the matter?" the patient asked. "The gentlemen have finished their meal," answered the girl, "and they are getting up from the table. Tatiana Alfonasiyevna is coming here. " Natasha seemed pleased, and waved her feeble hand.The girl put down the curtain and sat down beside the spinning wheel again. A few minutes later a head in a broad white hat with a black ribbon appeared from behind the door, asking in a low voice: "How is Natasha?" "Hello, Auntie!" said the patient feebly. Tatiana hurried forward. "Miss is awake." The girl said, carefully moving an armchair forward. With tears in her eyes, the old lady kissed her niece's pale, lifeless face and sat down beside her.The German doctor followed in, wearing a long blue coat and a pedantic wig.He felt the patient's pulse and said first in Latin and then in Russian that the danger was over.He asked for paper and ink, wrote a new prescription, and left.The old lady got up, kissed Natalya again, and immediately went downstairs to tell Gavrila Alfonasiyevich the good news. At that moment in the drawing-room sat the Tsar's negro, in military uniform, with his sword dangling from his waist, and his hat in his hand, talking politely with Gavrila Alfonasiyevich.Korsakov was reclining on the velvet sofa with his legs spread apart, listening to their conversation with indifference, and playing with a hound at the same time.Tired of playing, he went to the dressing-mirror--that was his usual way of spending his spare time--and there he saw Tatyana Alfonasiyevna, who was giving a speech from behind the door. The younger brother made imperceptible gestures. "Calling you! Gavrila Alfonasiyevich!" said Korsakov, turning to him and interrupting Ibrahim.Gavrila Alfonasiyevich immediately went up to her sister and closed the door behind her. "I admire your patience!" Korsakov said to Ibrahim, and you are willing to listen to him bragging for a whole hour. The Lykov family and the Rzhevsky family have a long history!Plus a whole bunch of lessons!If I were in your place, I'd spit on the old trickster's face.He and his family are not good guys, including Natalia.This woman is coy, pretending to be sick, and her body is against harmony... ① To be honest, have you really fallen in love with this pretentious little woman?Listen to me, Ibrahim!Just listen to my advice this time!Well, I'm actually smarter than I look.You stop messing around.Don't get married.I don't think your fiancée has any special affection for you.Is there too little happening in the world?For example, I'm not a bad person, of course, but I happened to have cheated on a few husbands, and they, God behold, were as good as I was.Take yourself for example... You must still remember our good friend the Count in Paris, right?Don't believe in the so-called loyalty of women.Happy is he who is at peace with such things.what about you?Do you have a fiery, suspicious, brooding personality, with your snub nose, thick lips, and bristly hair, intent on plunging headlong into the abyss of marriage? ..." ①The original text is French. "Thank you for your kind advice!" Ibrahim interrupted coldly, "but you should know the adage that it is not your job to rock someone else's cradle..." "Ibrahim, just wait and see!" laughed Korsakov. "I hope you won't have to prove this adage in words and deeds." While in another room the conversation was raging on. "You'll kill her!" said the old lady. "She can't stand him like that." "Then judge for yourself!" retorted the obstinate brother, "he has been visiting here as a fiancée, and he has not seen his fiancée for two weeks. At the end he may think that the illness is fake, We're just playing for time, trying to get rid of him. And what will the Tsar say? He's sent three times to find out how Natalia is doing. You can do what you want, but I don't want to quarrel with the Tsar. " "My God! what will happen to the poor child?" said Tatiana Alfonasiyevna, "at least let me arrange something beforehand so that she can see him." Gavrila Alfonasiyevich agreed, and immediately returned to the drawing-room. "Thank God!" he said to Ibrahim, "the danger is over. Natalia is much better. If it hadn't been for the fact that Ivan Evgrafevich, the guest of honor, would have been left alone here." If you're being polite, I'll take you upstairs to see your fiancée immediately." Korsakov congratulated Gavrila Alfonasyevich, begged him not to be embarrassed, said that he had something to do and wanted to leave immediately, and immediately ran into the hall without letting his master see him off. Meanwhile Tatiana Alfonasiyevna was hastily preparing for the meeting with this dreadful visitor.She went into the boudoir, sat down on the edge of the bed, out of breath, took Natasha's hand, and before she could speak, the door opened. "Who's in?" asked Natasha. The old lady was dumbfounded. Gavrila Alfonasiyevich raised the curtain, looked icily at the patient, and asked her how she was feeling.The patient wanted to smile at him, but couldn't.Her father's stern gaze was compelling, and she felt uneasy.At the same time, she seemed to feel that someone was standing beside her pillow.She raised her head vigorously, and suddenly recognized the Tsar's black man.In an instant, she remembered everything, and all the horrors of the future unfolded before her eyes.But the shock was palpable reflected in her exhausted physical weakness.Natasha's head fell back on the pillow, her eyes closed...his heart was beating violently.Tatiana Alfonasiyevna signaled to her brother that the sick man was going to bed.Everyone walked out of the boudoir lightly, only the girl stayed behind, still sitting by the spinning wheel. The poor beauty opened her eyes, but there was no one by the bed.She called the girl to her face and sent her to fetch the dwarf.Just then a round old doll rolled to her bedside like a ball.The dwarf named Swallow flew briskly on his short legs just now, followed Gavrila Alfonasiyevich and Ibrahim upstairs, and with the natural curiosity of a woman, dodged behind the door.When Natasha saw her, she pushed the girl away.The dwarf sat down on the small bench beside the bed. I have never seen so much energy contained in such a delicate body.She meddles in everything, knows everything, and is busy with everything.She would win the favor of her master by her cunning and flattering schemes, and thus arouse the hatred of the servants of the whole house where they were left alone.Gavrila Alfonasiyevich listened to her informers, complaints, and petty entreaties.From time to time Tatiana obeyed her advice.And Natasha was infinitely attached to her, and confessed all her thoughts and all the activities of the sixteen-year-old girl's heart to her. "Swallow! Daddy's going to marry me to a black person, you know?" said Natasha. The dwarf sighed, and her lined face further wrinkled. "Is there no hope?" Natasha went on. "Don't papa pity me?" The dwarf straightened his little hat. "Don't grandpa or aunt protect me?" "No, madam! Negroes charm everybody these days when you're sick. The lord looks down on him and the prince keeps nagging him. It's a pity it's a negro," said Tatyana Alfonasiyevna. Otherwise, the best bridegroom would never even think about it." "My God! My God!" sighed poor Natasha. "Don't be sad, my little beauty!" said the dwarf, kissing her limp hand. "If you marry a black person, it's all up to you. Men don't lock their wives in the house anymore than they used to. I heard niggers You are very rich! Your home is like a glass of wine filled to the brim. Living life will be as satisfying as singing!" "Poor Valerion!" said Natasha, speaking so softly that the dwarf guessed the words instead of hearing them. "Oh, oh, miss!" she said, lowering her voice confidentially, "if you'd thought less of that orphan from the Firearms Guards, you wouldn't have called his name when you were talking nonsense with a high fever. .Otherwise, your father will be angry." "What?" said Natasha, terrified. "Did I call Valerion's name nonsense? Daddy heard that? Angry?" "There has been such misfortune!" answered the dwarf. "Now, if you beg him not to marry you to a Negro, he will think that Valerion is the cause of his trouble. There is no other way! Obey your father's will! And What is coming, will come." Natasha didn't make any further rebuttals.She thought that her father already knew the secret in her heart.This pushed her head very hard.She has only one hope left: to die early, before the hideous wedding.The thought comforted her.She left her feeble and miserable soul to the mercy of fate. Chapter VII 加夫里拉·阿方纳西耶维奇的屋子里，从穿堂往右有一间开个小窗的狭小的斗室。斗室里放一张床，床上是绒布被子。床前摆一张云杉木小桌子，桌上燃一枝蜡烛，搁着打开的乐谱。墙上挂一件陈旧的蓝色军服以及同样陈旧的一顶三角军帽，帽子下边三颗钉子钉一幅板画，画着骑在马上的瑞典国王卡尔十二世。长笛的声音在这寒伧的住所里响了起来。这间斗室的孤独的居住者——被俘的舞蹈教师，头戴小尖帽，身穿中国式睡袍，正无可奈何地排遣着隆冬漫漫长夜的烦闷，吹奏着令他忆起青春快活时光的古老的瑞典进行曲。这种操练业已两个钟头了。瑞典人收起长笛，放进匣子里，开始脱衣。 这时，他的门闩被打开，一个穿军服的漂亮年轻人走了进来。 吃惊的瑞典人恐怖地站起来。 "你不认得我了！古斯泰夫·亚当梅奇。"年轻的访问者用亲切动人的声音说，"你不记得那个小孩了吗？你教过他瑞典军操，你跟他用儿童玩的小炮射击，差点把这间房子弄得起火了。你不记得了吗？" 古斯泰夫·亚当梅奇聚精会神地凝视着…… "哎！哎！"终于他叫了起来，拥抱那青年，"好哇！你到子地到了老久了？坐哇！你的好的好小子！来，谈谈！"① ①这位瑞典人俄语说得不好，语音不准，语法有错。