Anna Karenina (Literature Classics Series). Leo Tolstoy

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СКАЧАТЬ it would be false, it would be deceiving myself as well as others. No! a duel is unthinkable and no one expects it of me. My aim is to safeguard my reputation, which I need for the uninterrupted pursuit of my career.’ His official pursuits, which had always appeared essential to Karenin, now assumed even greater importance.

      Having considered and rejected the idea of a duel, Karenin turned his thoughts to divorce, the next expedient of which some of the wronged husbands he remembered had availed themselves. Going over all the cases of divorce he knew — there were very many, and in the highest Society, with which he was well acquainted — Karenin could not recall one in which the purpose of the divorce was the one he had in view. In all these cases the husband had ceded or sold the unfaithful wife, and the very person who according to law had no right to remarry entered into fictitious, pseudo-legal relations with a pretended husband. Karenin saw that in his own case it would be impossible to obtain a legal divorce — that is, a divorce in which the guilty wife would be simply cast off. He knew that in their complex conditions of life it would not be possible to obtain those coarse proofs of a wife’s infidelity which the law demanded; he knew that in that life there was a certain convention of refinement which would not allow him to bring forward such proofs, had they existed, because such an action would make him sink even lower than she in public opinion. To attempt a divorce could only lead to a lawsuit and a scandal which would give his enemies great opportunity for calumny, and would lower his high position in Society. The chief object of his life, the settling of conditions with the least possible amount of disturbance, could not be furthered by divorce. Besides, it was evident that as a consequence of divorce the wife would break off relations with her husband and unite with her lover. In Karenin’s soul, however, despite the complete and contemptuous indifference he thought he felt for his wife, there was one feeling left with regard to her: an objection to her being in a position to unite unhindered with Vronsky, so making her crime advantageous to her. The very thought of it irritated him to such an extent that he groaned with inner pain, rose, and changed his place in the carriage; and for a long while after that he sat wrapping his fluffy rug round his bony, easily-chilled legs.

      ‘Besides a formal divorce, it would be possible to act as Karibanov, Paskudin, and that good-natured Dram did, and just separate,’ he resumed when he had grown calm again; but this measure would have all the inconvenience of a divorce-scandal, and would throw his wife into Vronsky’s arms just in the same way. ‘No, it is impossible, impossible!’ he said aloud, again wrapping the rug round his legs, ‘I cannot be unhappy, but she and he must not be happy.’

      The jealousy that had tormented him during the period of uncertainty had left him when his wife’s words had with great pain drawn that aching tooth. But another feeling had now taken the place of the jealousy: it was a wish that his wife’s guilt should meet with retribution. He did not acknowledge it to himself, but in the depths of his soul he wished her to suffer for impairing his peace of mind and his honour. And having reviewed the possibilities of a duel, of divorce, and of separation, and having again rejected them, Karenin came to the conclusion that there was only one course to be followed: to keep her with him, hiding from the world what had happened, and taking all necessary steps to put a stop to her love-affair, and above all (though he did not confess this to himself) to punish her. ‘I must inform her of my decision, that after considering the painful situation in which she has placed her family, I think that an external status quo would be better for both parties than any other expedient, and that I am prepared to keep to that on the strict understanding on her part that she will obey my will and break off relations with her lover.’ In confirmation of this decision, after it had already been reached, another powerful argument occurred to Karenin. ‘It is only by this course that I can conform with religion,’ said he to himself. ‘It is the only way that makes it possible for me not to disown my guilty wife and to give her a chance of repenting, and even, painful as it will be, to devote part of my powers to her redemption.’

      Though Karenin knew that he could have no moral influence on his wife, that all his attempts to redeem her would lead to nothing but lies, and although during the painful moments he had lived through he had not once thought of seeking guidance in religion, now that his decision was, as he imagined, in conformity with religion, its sanction afforded him great satisfaction and even some comfort. It was pleasant to think that no one would have a right to say that in such an important crisis in his life he had not acted in accordance with that religion whose banner he had always held aloft amid general coldness and indifference.

      Proceeding to consider further details, Karenin could not even see why his relations with his wife should not remain almost the same as before. He could of course never again revive his respect for her; but there was no occasion for him to spoil his own life and to suffer just because she had proved a bad and unfaithful wife.

      ‘Yes, time goes on; and time, which cures everything, will restore the old conditions,’ said Karenin to himself. ‘That is, it will restore them in so far that I shall not have this worry during the rest of my life. She must be unhappy, but I am not guilty and therefore I cannot suffer.’

      Chapter 14

       Table of Contents

      BY the time he reached Petersburg Karenin had not only resolved to keep to his decision, but had mentally composed a letter to his wife. On entering the hall of his house he glanced at the letters and papers which had been sent from the Ministry and ordered them to be brought into his study.

      ‘Tell him to unharness; and no one is to be admitted,’ he said in answer to the hall-porter’s inquiry, accentuating with a certain pleasure the word admitted. It was a sign that he was in good spirits.

      He paced twice up and down his study and then halted at the gigantic writing-table, on which his valet had already lit six candles. Cracking his fingers, he sat down and arranged his writing materials. With his elbow on the table and his head bent to one side he sat and thought for a minute, and then wrote without an instant’s pause. He did not begin by addressing her, and wrote in French, using the plural pronoun you, which in French does not sound as cold and distant as it does in Russian.

      ‘During our last conversation I expressed my intention of communicating my decision with reference to the subject of that conversation. Having carefully and fully considered everything, I now write to fulfil my promise. My decision is as follows: Whatever your actions may have been, I do not consider myself justified in severing the bonds with which a Higher Power has united us. A family must not be broken up through the caprice, perversity, or even crime, of one of the married couple, and our life must go on as heretofore. This is unavoidable for my sake, for yours, and for that of our son. I am perfectly convinced that you have repented, and are repenting, of the action which has led to this letter, and will completely co-operate with me to eradicate the cause of our discord and to forget the past. If not, you can yourself foresee what awaits you and your son. I hope to talk all this over with you in more detail at a personal interview. As the summer season is drawing to a close, I would ask you to return to Petersburg as soon as possible, and not later than Tuesday. All necessary preparations shall be made for your return. I beg you to note that I attach importance to this request of mine.

      A. KARENIN.

      ‘P.S. — I enclose some money, which you may need for your expenses.’

      He read the letter over and was satisfied with it, especially with having remembered to enclose the money; there was not a single cruel word or threat in it, yet it was not yielding in tone. Above all it provided a golden bridge for her to return by. Having folded the letter, smoothed it out with a massive ivory paper-knife, and put it and the money in an envelope — with the pleasure that the use of his well-arranged writing appliances always caused him — he rang.

      ‘Give this to the messenger, and tell him to take СКАЧАТЬ