(verse from "ruslan and ludmila.")
"our forefathers were leisurely souls,
right leisurely did they dine,
and they ladled slow from their silver bowls
the foaming beer and wine."
i must introduce you, gracious reader, to gavril afanassievitch rjevski. he came of an ancient noble race, owned vast estates, was hospitable, loved falconry, had an enormous retinue, and was, in a word, a good old russian gentleman. in his own words he could not bear anything foreign, and in his home he tried to maintain the customs of the good old days he loved so well. his daughter was seventeen. in childhood she had lost her mother, and she had been brought up in the old-fashioned way, amid a crowd of governesses, nurses, companions, and children from the servants' hall. she could embroider in gold and was[pg 242] illiterate. her father, in spite of his dislike to all things foreign, could not oppose her wish to learn german dances from a captive swedish officer living in their house. this worthy dancing master was about fifty; his right foot had been shot through at the battle of narva, and therefore it was not very active at minuets and courantes; but the left was very dexterous and agile in the more difficult steps. his young pupil did credit to his teaching. natalia gavrilovna was celebrated at these soirees for her dancing, which was partly the cause of korsakoff's proceedings. he came next morning to apologise to gavril afanassievitch. but the young dandy's manner and fine dress displeased the proud barin who nicknamed him the french monkey.
it was a holiday. gavril afanassievitch expected a number of friends and relations. in the ancient hall a long table was being laid. the guests were arriving with their wives and daughters, who had at last been released from their domestic prison by the order and by the example of the tsar. natalia gavrilovna handed round a silver tray laden with golden cups, and each guest, as he drained one, regretted that the kiss which accompanied it on such occasions in olden times was out of fashion.
they sat down to table. in the place of honour next the host sat his father-in-law, prince[pg 243] boris alexeievitch lykoff, a boyar in his seventieth year. the other guests were placed in order of descent, and thus recalling the happy times of precedence by office, sat down, men on one side, women on the other. at the end of the table, the companion in the old-fashioned dress, a dwarf,—a thirty-year-old infant, affected and wrinkled,—and the captive dancing master in a shabby dark blue uniform, took their accustomed seats. the table, covered with a great number of dishes, was surrounded by numerous and busy servants, distinguishable among whom was the butler, with severe mien, big stomach, and pompous immobility. the first few moments of dinner were devoted entirely to the dishes of our time-honoured russian cookery. the rattle of plates and the activity of spoons produced a general taciturnity.
at last the host, perceiving that the time had come for entertaining the guests with agreeable conversation, turned and asked:
"where, then, is ekimovna? let her be summoned!"
several attendants were about to rush off in different directions, when an old woman, painted white and pink, decorated with flowers and tinsel, in a silk damask gown with a low neck, entered, singing and dancing. her advent occasioned general delight.
[pg 244]
"good-day to you, ekimovna?" said prince lykoff. "how are you getting on?"
"well and healthily, gossip; all night dancing, my suitors awaiting."
"where have you been, fool?" asked the host.
"dressing, gossip, to receive the dear guests, on the lord's festival, by order of the tsar, by command of the master, to the derision of the world in the german style."
at these words there was a loud burst of laughter, and the jester took her place behind the host's chair.
"and folly talks foolishly, and sometimes tells the truth in her folly," said tatiana afanassievna, eldest sister of the host, and much respected by him. "naturally the present style of dress must seem ridiculous to everybody. when you, my friends, have shaved your beards and put on a short coat, it is of course no use talking of women's rags; but really it is a pity the sarafan, the maiden's ribbons, and the povoinik [a head-dress] should be discarded. it is really sad and comic to see the beauties of to-day, their hair frizzed like flax, greased and covered with french powder, the waist laced in so tight that it seems on the point of snapping—their bodies encased in hoops, so that they have to go sideways through a carriage door.[pg 245] they stoop; they can neither stand, sit, nor breathe—real martyrs, my poor dears."
"dear mother tatiana afanassievna!" said kirila petrovitch, formerly a voievod at riasan, where he acquired 3,000 serfs and a young wife, neither by strictly honourable means. "but my wife may dress as she likes as long as she does not order new gowns every month and throw away the previous ones, while still quite perfectly new. formerly the granddaughter included in her dowry the grandmother's sarafan; but now you see the mistress in a gown to-day and to-morrow it is on the maid. what is to be done? nothing but ruin confronts the russian noble. very sad!" he said, with a sigh, looking at his maria ilienitchna, who seemed to like neither his praise of olden times nor his disparagement of the latest fashions. the rest of the ladies shared her displeasure, but they said nothing, for modesty was in those days still deemed essential in young women.
"and who is to blame?" asked gravril afanassievitch, frothing a mug of kissli shtchi (sort of lemonade). "is it not our own fault? the young women play the fool and we encourage them."
"what can we do? we cannot help ourselves," replied kirila petrovitch. "a man would gladly shut his wife up in the house, but she is summoned with beating of drums to[pg 246] attend the assemblies. the husband follows the whip, but the wife runs after dress. oh, those assemblies! the lord has sent them upon us to punish us for our sins."
maria ilienitchna sat on needles; her tongue itched. at last she could bear it no longer, and turning to her husband inquired with a little acid smile what he found to object to in the assemblies.
"this is what i find to object to," replied the irritated husband. since they began, husbands cannot manage their wives; wives have forgotten the teaching of the apostles—that a wife shall reverence her husband. they trouble themselves not about their domestic affairs, but about new apparel. they consider not how to please the husband, but how to attract the officers. and is it becoming, madam, for a russian lady—wife or maid—to hobnob with german tobacconists and with their workmen? who ever heard of dancing till night and talking with young men? if they were relatives, all well and good—but with strangers and with men they do not know."
"i would say a word, but there is a wolf near," said gavril afanassievitch, with a frown. "i confess these assemblies are not to my taste; at any moment you may jostle against a drunken man, or perhaps be made drunk yourself to amuse others. then there is the danger that some blackguard may be up to mischief with[pg 247] your daughter; the modern young men are so spoilt, it is disgraceful. take for instance the son of the late evgraff sergueievitch korsakoff; who at the last assembly made such a fuss about natasha, that he brought the blood into my cheeks. next day he coolly drives up to my gate. i was wondering whether it could be prince alexander danilovitch. no such luck. ivan evgrafovitch! he would not stop at the gate and take the trouble to walk up to the door, it is not likely! korsakoff rushed in, bowing and scraping, and chattered at such a rate, the lord preserve us! the fool ekimovna mimics him most comically; by-the-bye, fool, give us the foreign monkey."
foolish ekimovna seized the cover off a dish, tucked it under her arm like a hat, and began wriggling, scraping with her feet, and bowing in all directions, saying monsieur, mademoiselle, assemblée, pardon. general and prolonged laughter again showed the delight of the guests.
"exactly like korsakoff," said old prince lykoff, wiping away his tears of laughter when the noise had gradually subsided. "it must be owned, however, he is not the first nor the last who has come from foreign parts to holy russia a buffoon. what do our children learn abroad? to scrape their feet, to chatter the lord knows what lingo, not to respect their elders, and to dangle after other men's wives. of all the young people[pg 248] who have been educated abroad (the lord forgive me) the tzar's negro most resembles a man."
"oh, prince!" said tatiana afanassievna. i have—i have seen him close. what a frightful muzzle he has. i was quite frightened of him."
"certainly," added gavril afanassievitch. "he is a steady, decent man, not a brother of the whirlwind. who is it that has just driven through the gate into the courtyard? surely it is never that foreign monkey again? what are you animals doing?" he exclaimed, turning towards the servants. "run and keep him out, and never let him in again."
"old beard, are you dreaming?" foolish ekimovna interrupted. "are you blind? it is the royal sledge. the tsar has come."
gavril afanassievitch rose hurriedly from the table. everybody rushed to the windows; and positively saw the emperor ascending the steps leaning on the arm of his orderly. there was a great commotion. the host rushed to meet peter; the servants flew hither and thither as if mad; the guests were alarmed, and some wondered how they might escape. suddenly the thunder voice of peter resounded in the hall. all was silence as the tsar entered, accompanied by his host, in a flutter of joy.
"how do you do, ladies and gentlemen?" said peter gaily.
[pg 249]
all made obeisance. the tsar's sharp eyes sought in this crowd the host's young daughter. he beckoned to her. natalia gavrilovna approached rather boldly, but blushed not only to her ears but to her shoulders.
"you grow prettier every hour," said the tsar, and according to his custom kissed her on the head. then turning to the guests he exclaimed:
"why, i have interrupted you! you were dining? i beg you will sit down again, and to me, gavril afanassievitch, give some aniseed vodka."
the host rushed at the stately butler, snatched from him a tray, and himself filling a small golden goblet, handed it to the tsar. peter drank it, ate a piece of bread, and again invited the guests to continue their dinner. all resumed their seats but the dwarf and the companion, who did not dare to remain at the table honoured by the presence of the monarch. peter sat down beside the host and asked for some shtchee (a cabbage soup). the tsar's orderly handed him a wooden spoon inlaid with ivory, a knife and fork with green bone handles—peter never used any others but his own. the dinner table conversation, which a moment before had been boisterously merry, ended by being forced and scanty. the host from respect and delight ate nothing; the guests, too, became ceremonious and listened with[pg 250] reverence to the tsar as he discussed in german the campaign of 1701 with the captive swede.
the fool, ekimovna, several times interrogated by the monarch, replied with a sort of cold timidity, which, by-the-bye, did not in the least prove her natural folly.
at last the dinner ended. the monarch rose, and after him all the guests.
"gavril afanassievitch!" he said, addressing the host. "i want a word with you alone." taking his arm, he led him into the drawing-room and locked the door. the guests remaining in the dining-room whispered about the unexpected visit, and fearing to intrude, dispersed speedily without expressing to their host the usual after-dinner thanks. his father-in-law, daughter, and sister accompanied each in silence to the door, and remained alone in the dining-room awaiting his majesty's departure.
