Russia -- History -- Catherine II, 1762-1796 -- Fiction; Russia -- History -- Elizabeth, 1741-1762 -- Fiction
And while she was thus speaking, Count Paulo, pale and silent, stood
behind her; she saw him not, and after a pause she continued: “How
strange it is! To-day, when I think of him, my heart beats as never
before, and I feel in it something like heavenly bliss, and yet at
the same time like profound sorrow. Ah, what can it be, and why do I,
to-day, think only of him? I could weep because he does not yet come!
How strange it all is, and at the same time how sad! Seems it not that
I love Carlo more than any one else, more even than Paulo, who
formerly was the dearest to me? How is it now, and am I, then, truly so
ungrateful to Paulo?”
Count Paulo still stood behind her, pale and silent. A painfully ironic
smile flitted over his face, and he thought: “I came to ask a question,
and Natalie has already given me the answer before I had time to ask it.
Perhaps it is better thus. I have now nothing to ask!”
The young maiden became more and more deeply absorbed in her thoughts.
Count Paulo laid his hand lightly upon her shoulder. She was startled,
and involuntarily cried, “Carlo!”
“No, Paulo!” said he, with a melancholy smile, “but at all events a
friend, Natalie, though a friend who is about to leave you!”
“You leave me?” she anxiously exclaimed.
“That means only outwardly, only with my body, never with my soul,” said
he, deeply moved. “That, Natalie, will remain with you eternally, that
will never leave you--do you hear, never! Always remember this, my
charming child, my sweet blossom! Never entertain a doubt of me; and if
my voice does not reach you, if you receive no news of me, then think
not, ‘Paulo has abandoned me!’ no; then think only, ‘Paulo is dead, but
my name was the last to linger upon his lips, and his last sigh was for
me!’”
“You desert me?” said she, wringing her hands. “What am I, what shall I
do, without you? You have been my protector and my reliance, my teacher
and my friend! Alas, you were all to me, and I have ever looked up to
you as my lord and father.”
Count Paulo sadly smiled. “Love me always as your father,” said he;
“while I live you shall never be an orphan, that I swear to you!”
“And must you go,” cried she, clinging to him; “well, then let me
go with you! You will be my father--well, I demand my right as your
daughter; to accompany her father is a daughter’s right.”
“No,” he firmly said, “you must remain while I go; but I go for you, to
assure your future power and splendor. Remember this, Princess Natalie,
forget it not; and when one day they brand me as a traitor, then say:
‘No, he was no traitor, for he loved me!’ And now hear what I have yet
to say,” continued the count, after a pause, while the still
weeping Natalie looked up to him through her tears. “But look at
me, Natalie--no, not that sad glance, I cannot bear it! Leave me my
self-possession and my courage, for I need them! Weep not!”
And Natalie, drying her eyes with her long locks, sought to smile.
“I no longer weep,” said she, “I listen to you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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