White nights, and other storiesDostoyevsky, Fyodor
General
White nights, and other stories
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor, 1821-1881 -- Translations into English; Russian fiction -- Translations into English
"Yes, sir, that was the bribe--and it was a bribe-taker who had to pay
it--and I didn't do wrong, I can assure you! Well, now I will go on: he
drew me, if you will kindly remember, more dead than alive into the room
where they were having tea. They all met me, seeming as it were
offended, that is, not exactly offended, but hurt--so hurt that it was
simply.... They seemed shattered, absolutely shattered, and at the same
time there was a look of becoming dignity on their faces, a gravity in
their expression, something fatherly, parental ... the prodigal son had
come back to them--that's what it had come to! They made me sit down to
tea, but there was no need to do that: I felt as though a samovar was
toiling in my bosom and my feet were like ice. I was humbled, I was
cowed. Marya Fominishna, his wife, addressed me familiarly from the
first word.
"'How is it you have grown so thin, my boy?'
"'I've not been very well, Marya Fominishna,' I said. My wretched voice
shook.
"And then quite suddenly--she must have been waiting for a chance to get
a dig at me, the old snake--she said--
"'I suppose your conscience felt ill at ease, Osip Mihalitch, my dear!
Our fatherly hospitality was a reproach to you! You have been punished
for the tears I have shed.'
"Yes, upon my word, she really said that--she had the conscience to say
it. Why, that was nothing to her, she was a terror! She did nothing but
sit there and pour out tea. But if you were in the market, my darling, I
thought you'd shout louder than any fishwife there.... That's the kind
of woman she was. And then, to my undoing, the daughter, Marya
Fedosyevna, came in, in all her innocence, a little pale and her eyes
red as though she had been weeping. I was bowled over on the spot like a
fool. But it turned out afterwards that the tears were a tribute to the
cavalry officer. He had made tracks for home and taken his hook for good
and all; for you know it was high time for him to be off--I may as well
mention the fact here; not that his leave was up precisely, but you
see.... It was only later that the loving parents grasped the position
and had found out all that had happened.... What could they do? They
hushed their trouble up--an addition to the family!
"Well, I could not help it--as soon as I looked at her I was done for; I
stole a glance at my hat, I wanted to get up and make off. But there was
no chance of that, they took away my hat.... I must confess, I did think
of getting off without it. 'Well!' I thought--but no, they latched the
doors. There followed friendly jokes, winking, little airs and graces. I
was overcome with embarrassment, said something stupid, talked nonsense,
about love. My charmer sat down to the piano and with an air of wounded
feeling sang the song about the hussar who leaned upon the sword--that
finished me off!
"'Well,' said Fedosey Nikolaitch, 'all is forgotten, come to my arms!'
"I fell just as I was, with my face on his waistcoat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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