White nights, and other storiesDostoyevsky, Fyodor
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White nights, and other stories
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor, 1821-1881 -- Translations into English; Russian fiction -- Translations into English
"How is it--how is it? Tell me all about it, Vasya! I am astonished,
excuse me, brother, but I am utterly astonished; it's a perfect
thunderbolt, by Jove! Nonsense, nonsense, brother, you have made it up,
you've really made it up, you are telling fibs!" cried Arkady
Ivanovitch, and he actually looked into Vasya's face with genuine
uncertainty, but seeing in it the radiant confirmation of a positive
intention of being married as soon as possible, threw himself on the bed
and began rolling from side to side in ecstasy till the walls shook.
"Vasya, sit here," he said at last, sitting down on the bed.
"I really don't know, brother, where to begin!"
They looked at one another in joyful excitement.
"Who is she, Vasya?"
"The Artemyevs!..." Vasya pronounced, in a voice weak with emotion.
"No?"
"Well, I did buzz into your ears about them at first, and then I shut
up, and you noticed nothing. Ah, Arkasha, if you knew how hard it was to
keep it from you; but I was afraid, afraid to speak! I thought it would
all go wrong, and you know I was in love, Arkasha! My God! my God! You
see this was the trouble," he began, pausing continually from agitation,
"she had a suitor a year ago, but he was suddenly ordered somewhere; I
knew him--he was a fellow, bless him! Well, he did not write at all, he
simply vanished. They waited and waited, wondering what it meant....
Four months ago he suddenly came back married, and has never set foot
within their doors! It was coarse--shabby! And they had no one to stand
up for them. She cried and cried, poor girl, and I fell in love with her
... indeed, I had been in love with her long before, all the time! I
began comforting her, and was always going there.... Well, and I really
don't know how it has all come about, only she came to love me; a week
ago I could not restrain myself, I cried, I sobbed, and told her
everything--well, that I love her--everything, in fact!... 'I am ready
to love you, too, Vassily Petrovitch, only I am a poor girl, don't make
a mock of me; I don't dare to love any one.' Well, brother, you
understand! You understand?... On that we got engaged on the spot. I
kept thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking, I said to her,
'How are we to tell your mother?' She said, 'It will be hard, wait a
little; she's afraid, and now maybe she would not let you have me; she
keeps crying, too.' Without telling her I blurted it out to her mother
to-day. Lizanka fell on her knees before her, I did the same ... well,
she gave us her blessing. Arkasha, Arkasha! My dear fellow! We will live
together. No, I won't part from you for anything."
"Vasya, look at you as I may, I can't believe it. I don't believe it, I
swear. I keep feeling as though.... Listen, how can you be engaged to be
married?... How is it I didn't know, eh? Do you know, Vasya, I will
confess it to you now. I was thinking of getting married myself; but now
since you are going to be married, it is just as good! Be happy, be
happy!..."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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