The Green Book; Or, Freedom Under the Snow: A NovelJókai, Mór
History
The Green Book; Or, Freedom Under the Snow: A Novel
Jókai, Mór
Russia -- History -- December Uprising, 1825 -- Fiction
"What does it mean, my friend? That your punishment is to be carried out
with a refinement of cruelty! Had I not a similar experience? The very
night I had challenged that scoundrel, I, too, received an invitation to
a court ball. When the circle was formed round the Czar, the Lord
Chamberlain placed me among the guests to whom his Majesty desired to
speak. I was simple enough to feel elated at the distinction. My turn at
length came. The great man stood before me, letting me feel his colossal
height. Looking full at me with his cold, green eyes, his face as
immovable as a moonlit landscape, he asked, 'You are not satisfied with
your commanding officer?' And, taking my confusion for acquiescence,
added, 'We will provide against any such unpleasant friction in the
future.' And I stammered out something like thanks, never thinking that
this was only a planned humiliation for me, that every one standing
round about me knew already whither I was to be banished, and that the
honor of this imperial interview was merely intended to further
humiliate me. Oh, if I had but known it then! If it should again happen
that I-- Ah, fool that I am! Fate does not so repeat itself. But could I
pass on to you my imbittered heart, my experience, and my determination
at the moment in which you will be standing there, face to face with
'him,' apart from all, all eyes upon you, but every man's hand turned
away from you; no one near you but a devil! Casca's devil! But what am I
talking about! You are but an Epimetheus to whom wisdom only comes when
the opportunity is past. A pleasant journey to Tungusia; my respects to
the marmots! Come, let us shake hands. We are comrades now."
"Eh! fate does not repeat itself? How if the soup be not eaten as hot as
it is served?" asked Pushkin, simulating light-heartedness. But
Jakuskin's words had left a sting in his heart. Why had he received the
invitation to the palace that night?
There was no evading the command. His sledge was one among the many
formed in line before the gates of the Winter Palace that evening; the
guests numbered more than two thousand, the whole _élite_ of St.
Petersburg society was there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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