Part One: Chapter 10

by Leo Tolstoy

　　When Levin went into the restaurant with Oblonsky, he could nothelp noticing a certain peculiarity of expression, as it were, arestrained radiance, about the face and whole figure of StepanArkadyevitch. Oblonsky took off his overcoat, and with his hatover one ear walked into the dining room, giving directions tothe Tatar waiters, who were clustered about him in evening coats,bearing napkins. Bowing to right and left to the people he met,and here as everywhere joyously greeting acquaintances, he wentup to the sideboard for a preliminary appetizer of fish andvodka, and said to the painted Frenchwoman decked in ribbons,lace, and ringlets, behind the counter, something so amusing thateven that Frenchwoman was moved to genuine laughter. Levin forhis part refrained from taking any vodka simply because he feltsuch a loathing of that Frenchwoman, all made up, it seemed, offalse hair, poudre de riz, and vinaigre de toilette. He madehaste to move away from her, as from a dirty place. His wholesoul was filled with memories of Kitty, and there was a smile oftriumph and happiness shining in his eyes.

　　"This way, your excellency, please. Your excellency won't bedisturbed here," said a particularly pertinacious, white-headedold Tatar with immense hips and coattails gaping widely behind."Walk in, your excellency," he said to Levin; by way of showinghis respect to Stepan Arkadyevitch, being attentive to his guestas well.

　　Instantly flinging a fresh cloth over the round table under thebronze chandelier, though it already had a table cloth on it, hepushed up velvet chairs, and came to a standstill before StepanArkadyevitch with a napkin and a bill of fare in his hands,awaiting his commands.

　　"If you prefer it, your excellency, a private room will be freedirectly; Prince Golistin with a lady. Fresh oysters have comein."

　　"Ah! oysters."

　　Stepan Arkadyevitch became thoughtful.

　　"How if we were to change our program, Levin?" he said keepinghis finger on the bill of fare. And his face expressed serioushesitation. "Are the oysters good? Mind now."

　　"They're Flensburg, your excellency. We've no Ostend."

　　"Flensburg will do, but are they fresh?"

　　"Only arrived yesterday."

　　"Well, then, how if we were to begin with oysters, and so changethe whole program? Eh?"

　　"It's all the same to me. I should like cabbage soup andporridge better than anything; but of course there's nothing likethat here."

　　"Porridge a la Russe, your honor would like?" said the Tatar,bending down to Levin, like a nurse speaking to a child.

　　"No, joking apart, whatever you choose is sure to be good. I'vebeen skating, and I'm hungry. And don't imagine," he added,detecting a look of dissatisfaction on Oblonsky's face, "that Ishan't appreciate your choice. I am fond of good things."

　　"I should hope so! After all, it's one of the pleasures oflife," said Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Well, then, my friend, yougive us two--or better say three--dozen oysters, clear soupwith vegetables..."

　　"Printaniere," prompted the Tatar. But Stepan Arkadyevitchapparently did not care to allow him the satisfaction of givingthe French names of the dishes.

　　"With vegetables in it, you know. Then turbot with thick sauce,then...roast beef; and mind it's good. Yes, and capons, perhaps,and then sweets."

　　The Tatar, recollecting that it was Stepan Arkadyevitch's way notto call the dishes by the names in the French bill of fare, didnot repeat them after him, but could not resist rehearsing thewhole menus to himself according to the bill:--"Soupeprintaniere, turbot, sauce Beaumarchais, poulard a l'estragon,macedoine de fruits...etc.," and then instantly, as though workedby springs, laying down one bound bill of fare, he took upanother, the list of wines, and submitted it to StepanArkadyevitch.

　　"What shall we drink?"

　　"What you like, only not too much. Champagne," said Levin.

　　"What! to start with? You're right though, I dare say. Do youlike the white seal?"

　　"Cachet blanc," prompted the Tatar.

　　"Very well, then, give us that brand with the oysters, and thenwe'll see."

　　"Yes, sir. And what table wine?"

　　"You can give us Nuits. Oh, no, better the classic Chablis."

　　"Yes, sir. And your cheese, your excellency?"

　　"Oh, yes, Parmesan. Or would you like another?"

　　"No, it's all the same to me," said Levin, unable to suppress asmile.

　　And the Tatar ran off with flying coattails, and in five minutesdarted in with a dish of opened oysters on mother-of-pearlshells, and a bottle between his fingers.

　　Stepan Arkadyevitch crushed the starchy napkin, tucked it intohis waistcoat, and settling his arms comfortably, started on theoysters.

　　"Not bad," he said, stripping the oysters from the pearly shellwith a silver fork, and swallowing them one after another. "Notbad," he repeated, turning his dewy, brilliant eyes from Levin tothe Tatar.

　　Levin ate the oysters indeed, though white bread and cheese wouldhave pleased him better. But he was admiring Oblonsky. Even theTatar, uncorking the bottle and pouring the sparkling wine intothe delicate glasses, glanced at Stepan Arkadyevitch, and settledhis white cravat with a perceptible smile of satisfaction.

　　"You don't care much for oysters, do you?" said StepanArkadyevitch, emptying his wine glass, "or you're worried aboutsomething. Eh?"

　　He wanted Levin to be in good spirits. But it was not that Levinwas not in good spirits; he was ill at ease. With what he had inhis soul, he felt sore and uncomfortable in the restaurant, inthe midst of private rooms where men were dining with ladies, inall this fuss and bustle; the surroundings of bronzes, lookingglasses, gas, and waiters--all of it was offensive to him. Hewas afraid of sullying what his soul was brimful of.

　　"I? Yes, I am; but besides, all this bothers me," he said. "Youcan't conceive how queer it all seems to a country person likeme, as queer as that gentleman's nails I saw at your place..."

　　"Yes, I saw how much interested you were in poor Grinevitch'snails," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, laughing.

　　"It's too much for me," responded Levin. "Do try, now, and putyourself in my place, take the point of view of a country person.We in the country try to bring our hands into such a state aswill be most convenient for working with. So we cut our nails;sometimes we turn up our sleeves. And here people purposely lettheir nails grow as long as they will, and link on small saucersby way of studs, so that they can do nothing with their hands."

　　Stepan Arkadyevitch smiled gaily.

　　"Oh, yes, that's just a sign that he has no need to do coarsework. His work is with the mind..."

　　"Maybe. But still it's queer to me, just as at this moment itseems queer to me that we country folks try to get our meals overas soon as we can, so as to be ready for our work, while here arewe trying to drag out our meal as long as possible, and with thatobject eating oysters..."

　　"Why, of course," objected Stepan Arkadyevitch. "But that's justthe aim of civilization--to make everything a source ofenjoyment."

　　"Well, if that's its aim, I'd rather be a savage."

　　"And so you are a savage. All you Levins are savages."

　　Levin sighed. He remembered his brother Nikolay, and feltashamed and sore, and he scowled; but Oblonsky began speaking ofa subject which at once drew his attention.

　　"Oh, I say, are you going tonight to our people, theShtcherbatskys', I mean?" he said, his eyes sparklingsignificantly as he pushed away the empty rough shells, and drewthe cheese towards him.

　　"Yes, I shall certainly go," replied Levin; "though I fancied theprincess was not very warm in her invitation."

　　"What nonsense! That's her manner.... Come, boy, the soup!....That's her manner--grande dame," said Stepan Arkadyevitch. "I'mcoming, too, but I have to go to the Countess Bonina's rehearsal.Come, isn't it true that you're a savage? How do you explain thesudden way in which you vanished from Moscow? The Shtcherbatskyswere continually asking me about you, as though I ought to know.The only thing I know is that you always do what no one elsedoes."

　　"Yes," said Levin, slowly and with emotion, "you're right. I ama savage. Only, my savageness is not in having gone away, but incoming now. Now I have come..."

　　"Oh, what a lucky fellow you are!" broke in Stepan Arkadyevitch,looking into Levin's eyes.

　　"Why?"

　　"I know a gallant steed by tokens sure, And by his eyes I know ayouth in love," declaimed Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Everything isbefore you."

　　"Why, is it over for you already?"

　　"No; not over exactly, but the future is yours, and the presentis mine, and the present--well, it's not all that it might be."

　　"How so?"

　　"Oh, things go wrong. But I don't want to talk of myself, andbesides I can't explain it all," said Stepan Arkadyevitch."Well, why have you come to Moscow, then?.... Hi! take away!" hecalled to the Tatar.

　　"You guess?" responded Levin, his eyes like deep wells of lightfixed on Stepan Arkadyevitch.

　　"I guess, but I can't be the first to talk about it. You can seeby that whether I guess right or wrong," said StepanArkadyevitch, gazing at Levin with a subtle smile.

　　"Well, and what have you to say to me?" said Levin in a quiveringvoice, feeling that all the muscles of his face were quiveringtoo. "How do you look at the question?"

　　Stepan Arkadyevitch slowly emptied his glass of Chablis, nevertaking his eyes off Levin.

　　"I?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, "there's nothing I desire so muchas that--nothing! It would be the best thing that could be."

　　"But you're not making a mistake? You know what we're speakingof?" said Levin, piercing him with his eyes. "You think it'spossible?"

　　"I think it's possible. Why not possible?"

　　"No! do you really think it's possible? No, tell me all youthink! Oh, but if...if refusal's in store for me!... Indeed Ifeel sure..."

　　"Why should you think that?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling athis excitement.

　　"It seems so to me sometimes. That will be awful for me, and forher too."

　　"Oh, well, anyway there's nothing awful in it for a girl. Everygirl's proud of an offer."

　　"Yes, every girl, but not she."

　　Stepan Arkadyevitch smiled. He so well knew that feeling ofLevin's, that for him all the girls in the world were dividedinto two classes: one class--all the girls in the world excepther, and those girls with all sorts of human weaknesses, and veryordinary girls: the other class--she alone, having no weaknessesof any sort and higher than all humanity.

　　"Stay, take some sauce," he said, holding back Levin's hand as itpushed away the sauce.

　　Levin obediently helped himself to sauce, but would not letStepan Arkadyevitch go on with his dinner.

　　"No, stop a minute, stop a minute," he said. "You mustunderstand that it's a question of life and death for me. I havenever spoken to any one of this. And there's no one I couldspeak of it to, except you. You know we're utterly unlike eachother, different tastes and views and everything; but I knowyou're fond of me and understand me, and that's why I like youawfully. But for God's sake, be quite straightforward with me."

　　"I tell you what I think," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling."But I'll say more: my wife is a wonderful woman..." StepanArkadyevitch sighed, remembering his position with his wife, and,after a moment's silence, resumed--"She has a gift of foreseeingthings. She sees right through people; but that's not all; sheknows what will come to pass, especially in the way of marriages.She foretold, for instance, that Princess Shahovskaya would marryBrenteln. No one would believe it, but it came to pass. Andshe's on your side."

　　"How do you mean?"

　　"It's not only that she likes you--she says that Kitty iscertain to be your wife."

　　At these words Levin's face suddenly lighted up with a smile, asmile not far from tears of emotion.

　　"She says that!" cried Levin. "I always said she was exquisite,your wife. There, that's enough, enough said about it," he said,getting up from his seat.

　　"All right, but do sit down."

　　But Levin could not sit down. He walked with his firm treadtwice up and down the little cage of a room, blinked his eyelidsthat his tears might not fall, and only then sat down to thetable.

　　"You must understand," said he, "it's not love. I've been inlove, but it's not that. It's not my feeling, but a sort offorce outside me has taken possession of me. I went away, yousee, because I made up my mind that it could never be, youunderstand, as a happiness that does not come on earth; but I'vestruggled with myself, I see there's no living without it. Andit must be settled."

　　"What did you go away for?"

　　"Ah, stop a minute! Ah, the thoughts that come crowding on one!The questions one must ask oneself! Listen. You can't imaginewhat you've done for me by what you said. I'm so happy that I'vebecome positively hateful; I've forgotten everything. I heardtoday that my brother Nikolay...you know, he's here...I had evenforgotten him. It seems to me that he's happy too. It's a sortof madness. But one thing's awful.... Here, you've beenmarried, you know the feeling...it's awful that we--old--with apast... not of love, but of sins...are brought all at once sonear to a creature pure and innocent; it's loathsome, and that'swhy one can't help feeling oneself unworthy."

　　"Oh, well, you've not many sins on your conscience."

　　"Alas! all the same," said Levin, "when with loathing I go overmy life, I shudder and curse and bitterly regret it.... Yes."

　　"What would you have? The world's made so," said StepanArkadyevitch.

　　"The one comfort is like that prayer, which I always liked:'Forgive me not according to my unworthiness, but according toThy lovingkindness.' That's the only way she can forgive me."