The Complete Novels of Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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СКАЧАТЬ them? Not — only I don’t black them, but they, too, are ar — tificial!” said the Prince, regarding Mosgliakoff with a look of triumph.

      “What! Artificial? No, no, uncle! I can’t believe that! You’re laughing at me!”

      “Parole d’honneur, mon ami!” cried the delighted old man; “and fancy, all — everybody is taken in by them just as you were! Even Stepanida Matveyevna cannot believe they are not real, sometimes, although she often sticks them on herself! But, I am sure, my dear friend, you will keep my se — cret. Give me your word!”

      “I do give you my word, uncle! But surely you do not suppose I would be so mean as to divulge it?”

      “Oh, my boy! I had such a fall to-day, without you. The coachman upset me out of the carriage again!”

      “How? When?”

      “Why, we were driving to the mo — nastery, when? — —”

      “I know, uncle: that was early this morning!”

      “No, no! A couple of hours ago, not more! I was driving along with him, and he suddenly took and up — set me!”

      “Why, my dear uncle, you were asleep,” began Paul, in amazement!

      “Ye — yes, ye — yes. I did have a sleep; and then I drove away, at least I — at least I — dear me, how strange it all seems!”

      “I assure you, uncle, you have been dreaming! You saw all this in a dream! You have been sleeping quietly here since just after dinner!”

      “No!” And the prince reflected. “Ye — yes. Perhaps I did see it all in a dream! However, I can remember all I saw quite well. First, I saw a large bull with horns; and then I saw a pro — curor, and I think he had huge horns too. Then there was Napoleon Buonaparte. Did you ever hear, my boy, that people say I am so like Napoleon Buonaparte? But my profile is very like some old pope. What do you think about it, my bo — oy?”

      “I think you are much more like Napoleon Buonaparte, uncle!”

      “Why, ye — yes, of course — full face; so I am, my boy, so I am! I dreamt of him on his is — land, and do you know he was such a merry, talk — ative fellow, he quite am — used me!”

      “Who, uncle — Napoleon?” asked Mosgliakoff, looking thoughtfully at the old man. A strange idea was beginning to occupy his brain — an idea which he could not quite put into shape as yet.

      “Ye — yes, ye — yes, Nap — oleon. We talked about philosophical subjects. And do you know, my boy, I became quite sorry that the English had been so hard upon him. Of course, though, if one didn’t chain him up, he would be flying at people’s throats again! Still I’m sorry for him. Now I should have managed him quite differently. I should have put him on an uninhabited island.”

      “Why uninhabited, uncle?” asked Mosgliakoff, absently.

      “Well, well, an inhabited one, then; but the in — habitants must be good sort of people. And I should arrange all sorts of amusements for him, at the State’s charge: theatres, balle’s, and so on. And, of course, he should walk about, under proper su — pervision. Then he should have tarts (he liked tarts, you know), as many tarts as ever he pleased. I should treat him like a fa — ather; and he would end by being sorry for his sins, see if he wouldn’t!”

      Mosgliakoff listened absently to all this senile gabble, and bit his nails with impatience. He was anxious to turn the conversation on to the subject of marriage. He did not know quite clearly why he wished to do so, but his heart was boiling over with anger.

      Suddenly the old man made an exclamation of surprise.

      “Why, my dear boy, I declare I’ve forgotten to tell you about it. Fancy, I made an offer of marriage to-day!”

      “An offer of marriage, uncle?” cried Paul, brightening up.

      “Why, ye — yes! an offer. Pachomief, are you going? All right! Away with you! Ye — yes, c’est une charmante personne. But I confess, I took the step rather rash — ly. I only begin to see that now. Dear me! dear, dear me!”

      “Excuse me, uncle; but when did you make this offer?”

      “Well, I admit I don’t know exactly when I made it! Perhaps I dre — dreamed it; I don’t know. Dear me, how very strange it all seems!”

      Mosgliakoff trembled with joy: his new idea blazed forth in full developed glory.

      “And whom did you propose to?” he asked impatiently.

      “The daughter of the house, my boy; that beau — tiful girl. I — I forget what they call her. Bu — but, my dear boy, you see I — I can’t possibly marry. What am I to do?”

      “Oh! of course, you are done for if you marry, that’s clear. But let me ask you one more question, uncle. Are you perfectly certain that you actually made her an offer of marriage?”

      “Ye — yes, I’m sure of it; I — I —— .”

      “And what if you dreamed the whole thing, just as you did that you were upset out of the carriage a second time?”

      “Dear me! dear me! I — I really think I may have dreamed it; it’s very awkward. I don’t know how to show myself there, now. H — how could I find out, dear boy, for certain? Couldn’t I get to know by some outside way whether I really did make her an offer of ma — arriage or not? Why, just you think of my dreadful po — sition!”

      “Do you know, uncle, I don’t think we need trouble ourselves to find out at all.”

      “Why, wh — what then?”

      “I am convinced that you were dreaming.”

      “I — I think so myself, too, my dear fellow; es — pecially as I often have that sort of dream.”

      “You see, uncle, you had a drop of wine for lunch, and then another drop or two for dinner, don’t you know; and so you may easily have — —”

      “Ye — yes, quite so, quite so; it may easily have been that.”

      “Besides, my dear uncle, however excited you may have been, you would never have taken such a senseless step in your waking moments. So far as I know you, uncle, you are a man of the highest and most deliberate judgment, and I am positive that — —”

      “Ye — yes, ye — yes.”

      “Why, only imagine — if your relations were to get to hear of such a thing. My goodness, uncle! they were cruel enough to you before. What do you suppose they would do now, eh?”

      “Goodness gracious!” cried the frightened old prince. “Good — ness gracious! Wh — why, what would they do, do you think?”

      “Do? Why, of course, they would all screech out that you had acted under the influence of insanity: in fact, that you were mad; that you had been swindled, and that you must be put under proper restraint. In fact, they’d pop you into some lunatic asylum.”

      Mosgliakoff СКАЧАТЬ