The Captain's Daughter and Other Stories by Alexander Pushkin

Author:Alexander Pushkin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

“There was discord. Pyotr Andreyich was angry at first, but then he thought better of it, and decided that everyone may sing what he likes. And that was the end of it.”

Shvabrin’s impudence very nearly incensed me, but no one except me understood his coarse hints, or, at any rate, no one took any notice of them. From songs the conversation turned to poets; the Commandant remarked that they were a bad lot and bitter drunkards, and advised me, as a friend, to give up writing verses, for such an occupation did not accord with military duties and brought one to no good.

Shvabrin’s presence was unendurable to me. I soon said good-bye to the Captain and his family. When I came home I examined my sword, felt the point of it, and went to bed, telling Savelyich to wake me at six o’clock.

The following morning I stood behind the corn stacks at the appointed hour waiting for my opponent. He arrived soon after me.

“We may be disturbed,” he said. “We had better be quick.”

We took off our uniforms and, dressed in our waistcoats only, bared our swords. At that moment Ivan Ignatyich with five soldiers of the garrison suddenly appeared from behind the stacks. He requested us to go to the Commandant’s. We obeyed, vexed as we were; the soldiers surrounded us and we followed Ivan Ignatyich, who led us in triumph, stepping along with an air of extraordinary importance.

We entered the Commandant’s house. Ivan Ignatyich opened the doors and solemnly proclaimed: “I have brought them!”

We were met by Vasilisa Yegorovna.

“Goodness me! What ever next? What? How could you? Planning murder in our fortress! Ivan Kuzmich, put them under arrest at once! Pyotr Andreyich, Alexey Ivanych! Give me your swords, give them up, give them up! Palasha, take these swords to the pantry! I did not expect this of you, Pyotr Andreyich; aren’t you ashamed of yourself? It is all very well for Alexey Ivanych—he has been dismissed from the Guards for killing a man, and he does not believe in God, but fancy you doing a thing like this! Do you want to be like him?”

Ivan Kuzmich fully agreed with his wife, and kept repeating: “Vasilisa Yegorovna is quite right; let me tell you duels are explicitly forbidden in the army regulations.”

Meanwhile Palasha took our swords and carried them to the pantry. I could not help laughing; Shvabrin retained his dignity.

“With all respect for you,” he said coolly, “I must observe that you give yourself unnecessary trouble in passing judgment upon us. Leave it to Ivan Kuzmich—it is his business.”

“But, my dear sir, aren’t husband and wife one flesh and one spirit?” the Commandant’s lady retorted. “Ivan Kuzmich, what are you thinking of? Put them under arrest at once in different corners and give them nothing but bread and water till they come to their senses! And let Father Gerasim set them a penance that they may beg God to forgive them and confess their sin to the people.”

Ivan Kuzmich did not know what to do.

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