The Sweet-Scented Name. Fyodor Sologub

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СКАЧАТЬ such thoughts in his mind Peter Antònovitch said to the beautiful unknown:

      "Very well, dear young lady, I will take you home with me. But I ought to warn you that I do not live alone, and therefore I advise you to tell me your real name. I'm afraid that my relatives will not believe that you are the daughter of King Turandon. As far as I know there is no such king at the present time."

      ​Turandina smiled as she said:

      "I have told thee the truth, whether thy people believe it or not. It is sufficient for me that thou shouldst believe. And if thou believest me, thou wilt defend me from all evil and from all unhappiness, for thou art a man who hast chosen for thyself the calling in which thou canst uphold the truth and defend the weak."

      Peter Antònovitch shrugged his shoulders.

      "If you persist in this story," answered he, "I must wash my hands of the matter, and I cannot be answerable for any possible consequences. Of course I will take you home with me until you can find a more suitable place, and I will do all I can to help you. But as a lawyer I very strongly advise you not to hide your real name."

      Turandina listened to him with a smile, and when he stopped speaking she said:

      "Do not be at all anxious; everything will be well. Thou wilt see that I shall bring happiness to thee if thou canst show me kindness and love. And do not speak to me so much about my real name. I have spoken the truth to thee, and more I may not say, it is forbidden me to tell thee all. Take me home with thee. Night is coming on; I have journeyed far and am in need of rest."

      ​Peter Antònovitch was quick to apologise.

      "Ah, pardon me, please. I am sorry that this is such an out-of-the-way place; it's quite impossible to get a carriage."

      He began to walk in the direction of his home, and Turandina went with him. She did not walk as though she were tired; her feet seemed hardly to touch the ground, though they had to walk over stiff clay and sharp stones, and the moist grass and rain-soaked pathway did not seem to soil her little feet.

      When they reached the high bank of the river and could see the first houses of the village, Peter Antònovitch glanced uneasily at his companion and said somewhat awkwardly:

      "Pardon me, dear young lady …"

      Turandina looked at him, and with a little frown interrupted him, saying reproachfully:

      "Hast thou forgotten who I am and what is my name? I am Turandina, and not 'dear young lady.' I am the daughter of King Turandon."

      "Your pardon, please, Mademoiselle Turandina—it is a very beautiful name, though it is never used now—I wanted to ask you a question."

      ​"Why dost thou speak so to me?" asked Turandina, interrupting him once more. "Speak not as to one of the young ladies of thy acquaintance. Say 'thou' to me, and address me as a true knight would speak to his fair lady."

      She spoke with such insistence and authority that Peter Antònovitch felt compelled to obey. And when he turned to Turandina and for the first time spoke to her intimately and called her by her name, he at once felt more at ease.

      "Turandina, hast thou not a dress to wear? My people would expect thee to wear an ordinary dress."

      Turandina smiled once more and said:

      "I don't know. Isn't my one garment enough? I was told that in this wallet I should find everything that I should need in the world of men. Take it and look within; perhaps thou wilt find there what thou desirest."

      With these words she held out to him her little bag. And as he pulled apart the cord and opened it, Peter Antònovitch thought to himself, "It will be good if some one has put in some kind of frock for her."

      He put his hand into the wallet and feeling something soft he drew out a small parcel, ​so small that Turandina could have closed her hand over it. And when he unwrapped the parcel, there was just what he wanted, a dress such as most young girls were wearing at that time.

      He helped Turandina to put it on, and he fastened it for her, for, of course, it buttoned at the back.

      "Is that all right now?" asked Turandina.

      Peter Antònovitch looked regretfully at the little bag. It looked much too small to hold a pair of shoes. But he put in his hand again and thought, "A pair of sandals would do nicely."

      His fingers touched a little strap, and he drew forth a tiny pair of golden sandals. And then he dried her feet and put on the sandals and fastened the straps for her.

      "Now is everything all right?" asked Turandina again.

      There was such a humility in her voice and gesture as she spoke that Peter Antònovitch felt quite happy. It would be quite easy to manage her now, he thought. So he said, "Oh yes; we can get a hat later on."

      ​

      IV

      And so there came a fairy-story into the life of a man. Of course, it seemed sometimes as if the young lawyer's life were quite unsuited for such a thing. His relatives were utterly unable to believe the account their young guest gave of herself, and even Peter Antònovitch himself lacked faith. Many times he begged Turandina to tell him her real name, and he played various tricks on her to trap her into confessing that her story was not really true. But Turandina was never angry at his persistence. She smiled sweetly and simply, and with great patience said over and over again:

      "I have told you the truth."

      "But where is the land over which King Turandon reigns?" Peter Antònovitch would ask.

      "It is far away," Turandina would answer, "and yet if you wish it, it is near also. But none of you can go thither. Only we who have been born in the enchanted kingdom of King Turandon can ever get to that wonderful country."

      "But can you not show me how to go there?" asked Peter Antònovitch.

      "No, I cannot," answered Turandina.

      ​"And can you return yourself?" said he.

      "Now, I cannot," said she, "but when my father calls me, I shall return."

      There was no sadness in her voice and expression, nor any joy, as she spoke of her expulsion from the enchanted land and of her return. Her voice was always calm and gentle. She looked on all she saw with inquiring eyes, as if seeing everything for the first time, but with a quiet calmness, as if knowing that she would soon become accustomed to all new and strange things, and would easily recognise them again. When she once knew a thing she never made a mistake nor confused it with anything else. All ordinary rules of conduct that people told her or that she herself noticed, were lightly and easily followed, as if she had been accustomed to them from her childhood. She remembered names and faces of people after having once seen them.

      Turandina never quarrelled with any one, and she never said anything untrue. When she was advised to use the ordinary Society evasions she shook her head and said:

      "One must never say what is untrue. The earth hears everything."

      At home and in the company of others Turandina behaved with such dignity СКАЧАТЬ