Dream Tales and Prose PoemsTurgenev, Ivan Sergeevich
General
Dream Tales and Prose Poems
Turgenev, Ivan Sergeevich
Russia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Turgenev, Ivan Sergeevich, 1818-1883 -- Translations into English
prudence pointed to the necessity of separation. Fabio fully agreed with
the excellent monk. Valeria was even joyful when her husband reported to
her the priest’s counsel; and sent on his way with the cordial good-will
of both the young people, loaded with good gifts for the monastery and the
poor, Father Lorenzo returned home.
Fabio intended to have an explanation with Muzzio immediately after supper;
but his strange guest did not return to supper. Then Fabio decided to defer
his conversation with Muzzio until the following day; and both the young
people retired to rest.
IX
Valeria soon fell asleep; but Fabio could not sleep. In the stillness of
the night, everything he had seen, everything he had felt presented itself
more vividly; he put to himself still more insistently questions to which
as before he could find no answer. Had Muzzio really become a sorcerer,
and had he not already poisoned Valeria? She was ill ... but what was
her disease? While he lay, his head in his hand, holding his feverish
breath, and given up to painful reflection, the moon rose again upon a
cloudless sky; and together with its beams, through the half-transparent
window-panes, there began, from the direction of the pavilion--or was it
Fabio’s fancy?--to come a breath, like a light, fragrant current ... then
an urgent, passionate murmur was heard ... and at that instant he observed
that Valeria was beginning faintly to stir. He started, looked; she rose
up, slid first one foot, then the other out of the bed, and like one
bewitched of the moon, her sightless eyes fixed lifelessly before her, her
hands stretched out, she began moving towards the garden! Fabio instantly
ran out of the other door of the room, and running quickly round the corner
of the house, bolted the door that led into the garden.... He had scarcely
time to grasp at the bolt, when he felt some one trying to open the door
from the inside, pressing against it ... again and again ... and then there
was the sound of piteous passionate moans....
‘But Muzzio has not come back from the town,’ flashed through Fabio’s head,
and he rushed to the pavilion....
What did he see?
Coming towards him, along the path dazzlingly lighted up by the moon’s
rays, was Muzzio, he too moving like one moonstruck, his hands held out
before him, and his eyes open but unseeing.... Fabio ran up to him, but he,
not heeding him, moved on, treading evenly, step by step, and his rigid
face smiled in the moonlight like the Malay’s. Fabio would have called him
by his name ... but at that instant he heard, behind him in the house, the
creaking of a window.... He looked round....
Yes, the window of the bedroom was open from top to bottom, and putting one
foot over the sill, Valeria stood in the window ... her hands seemed to be
seeking Muzzio ... she seemed striving all over towards him....
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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