Part Three: Chapter 21

by Leo Tolstoy

　　"We've come to fetch you. Your lessive lasted a good timetoday," said Petritsky. "Well, is it over?"

　　"It is over," answered Vronsky, smiling with his eyes only, andtwirling the tips of his mustaches as circumspectly as thoughafter the perfect order into which his affairs had been broughtany over-bold or rapid movement might disturb it.

　　"You're always just as if you'd come out of a bath after it,"said Petritsky. "I've come from Gritsky's" (that was what theycalled the colonel); "they're expecting you."

　　Vronsky, without answering, looked at his comrade, thinking ofsomething else.

　　"Yes; is that music at his place?" he said, listening to thefamiliar sounds of polkas and waltzes floating across to him."What's the fete?"

　　"Serpuhovskoy's come."

　　"Aha!" said Vronsky, "why, I didn't know."

　　The smile in his eyes gleamed more brightly than ever.

　　Having once made up his mind that he was happy in his love, thathe sacrificed his ambition to it--having anyway taken up thisposition, Vronsky was incapable of feeling either envious ofSerpuhovskoy or hurt with him for not coming first to him when hecame to the regiment. Serpuhovskoy was a good friend, and he wasdelighted he had come.

　　"Ah, I'm very glad!"

　　The colonel, Demin, had taken a large country house. The wholeparty were in the wide lower balcony. In the courtyard the firstobjects that met Vronsky's eyes were a band of singers in whitelinen coats, standing near a barrel of vodka, and the robust,good-humored figure of the colonel surrounded by officers. Hehad gone out as far as the first step of the balcony and wasloudly shouting across the band that played Offenbach'squadrille, waving his arms and giving some orders to a fewsoldiers standing on one side. A group of soldiers, aquartermaster, and several subalterns came up to the balcony withVronsky. The colonel returned to the table, went out again ontothe steps with a tumbler in his hand, and proposed the toast, "Tothe health of our former comrade, the gallant general, PrinceSerpuhovskoy. Hurrah!"

　　The colonel was followed by Serpuhovskoy, who came out onto thesteps smiling, with a glass in his hand.

　　"You always get younger, Bondarenko," he said to therosy-checked, smart-looking quartermaster standing just beforehim, still youngish looking though doing his second term ofservice.

　　It was three years since Vronsky had seen Serpuhovskoy. Helooked more robust, had let his whiskers grow, but was still thesame graceful creature, whose face and figure were even morestriking from their softness and nobility than their beauty. Theonly change Vronsky detected in him was that subdued, continualradiance of beaming content which settles on the faces of men whoare successful and are sure of the recognition of their successby everyone. Vronsky knew that radiant air, and immediatelyobserved it in Serpuhovskoy.

　　As Serpuhovskoy came down the steps he saw Vronsky. A smile ofpleasure lighted up his face. He tossed his head upwards andwaved the glass in his hand, greeting Vronsky, and showing him bythe gesture that he could not come to him before thequartermaster, who stood craning forward his lips ready to bekissed.

　　"Here he is!" shouted the colonel. "Yashvin told me you were inone of your gloomy tempers."

　　Serpuhovskoy kissed the moist, fresh lips of the gallant-lookingquartermaster, and wiping his mouth with his handkerchief, wentup to Vronsky.

　　"How glad I am!" he said, squeezing his hand and drawing him onone side.

　　"You look after him," the colonel shouted to Yashvin, pointing toVronsky; and he went down below to the soldiers.

　　"Why weren't you at the races yesterday? I expected to see youthere," said Vronsky, scrutinizing Serpuhovskoy.

　　"I did go, but late. I beg your pardon," he added, and heturned to the adjutant: "Please have this divided from me, eachman as much as it runs to." And he hurriedly took notes forthree hundred roubles from his pocketbook, blushing a little.

　　"Vronsky! Have anything to eat or drink?" asked Yashvin. "Hi,something for the count to eat! Ah, here it is: have a glass!"

　　The fete at the colonel's lasted a long while. There was a greatdeal of drinking. They tossed Serpuhovskoy in the air and caughthim again several times. Then they did the same to the colonel.Then, to the accompaniment of the band, the colonel himselfdanced with Petritsky. Then the colonel, who began to show signsof feebleness, sat down on a bench in the courtyard and begandemonstrating to Yashvin the superiority of Russia over Poland,especially in cavalry attack, and there was a lull in the revelryfor a moment. Serpuhovskoy went into the house to the bathroomto wash his hands and found Vronsky there; Vronsky was drenchinghis head with water. He had taken off his coat and put hissunburnt, hairy neck under the tap, and was rubbing it and hishead with his hands. When he had finished, Vronsky sat down bySerpuhovskoy. They both sat down in the bathroom on a lounge,and a conversation began which was very interesting to both ofthem.

　　"I've always been hearing about you through my wife," saidSerpuhovskoy. "I'm glad you've been seeing her pretty often."

　　"She's friendly with Varya, and they're the only women inPetersburg I care about seeing," answered Vronsky, smiling. Hesmiled because he foresaw the topic the conversation would turnon, and he was glad of it.

　　"The only ones?" Serpuhovskoy queried, smiling.

　　"Yes; and I heard news of you, but not only through your wife,"said Vronsky, checking his hint by a stern expression of face."I was greatly delighted to hear of your success, but not a bitsurprised. I expected even more."

　　Serpuhovskoy smiled. Such an opinion of him was obviouslyagreeable to him, and he did not think it necessary to concealit.

　　"Well, I on the contrary expected less--I'll own frankly. ButI'm glad, very glad. I'm ambitious; that's my weakness, and Iconfess to it."

　　"Perhaps you wouldn't confess to it if you hadn't beensuccessful," said Vronsky.

　　"I don't suppose so," said Serpuhovskoy, smiling again. "Iwon't say life wouldn't be worth living without it, but it wouldbe dull. Of course I may be mistaken, but I fancy I have acertain capacity for the line I've chosen, and that power of anysort in my hands, if it is to be, will be better than in thehands of a good many people I know," said Serpuhovskoy, withbeaming consciousness of success; "and so the nearer I get to it,the better pleased I am."

　　"Perhaps that is true for you, but not for everyone. I used tothink so too, but here I live and think life worth living notonly for that."

　　"There it's out! here it comes!" said Serpuhovskoy, laughing."Ever since I heard about you, about your refusal, I began....Of course, I approved of what you did. But there are ways ofdoing everything. And I think your action was good in itself,but you didn't do it quite in the way you ought to have done."

　　"What's done can't be undone, and you know I never go back onwhat I've done. And besides, I'm very well off."

　　"Very well off--for the time. But you're not satisfied withthat. I wouldn't say this to your brother. He's a nice child,like our host here. There he goes!" he added, listening to theroar of "hurrah!"--"and he's happy, but that does not satisfyyou."

　　"I didn't say it did satisfy me."

　　"Yes, but that's not the only thing. Such men as you arewanted."

　　"By whom?"

　　"By whom? By society, by Russia. Russia needs men; she needs aparty, or else everything goes and will go to the dogs."

　　"How do you mean? Bertenev's party against the Russiancommunists?"

　　"No," said Serpuhovskoy, frowning with vexation at beingsuspected of such an absurdity. "Tout ca est une blague. That'salways been and always will be. There are no communists. Butintriguing people have to invent a noxious, dangerous party.It's an old trick. No, what's wanted is a powerful party ofindependent men like you and me."

　　"But why so?" Vronsky mentioned a few men who were in power."Why aren't they independent men?"

　　"Simply because they have not, or have not had from birth, anindependent fortune; they've not had a name, they've not beenclose to the sun and center as we have. They can be boughteither by money or by favor. And they have to find a support forthemselves in inventing a policy. And they bring forward somenotion, some policy that they don't believe in, that does harm;and the whole policy is really only a means to a government houseand so much income. Cela n'est pas plus fin que ca, when you geta peep at their cards. I may be inferior to them, stupiderperhaps, though I don't see why I should be inferior to them.But you and I have one important advantage over them for certain,in being more difficult to buy. And such men are more neededthan ever."

　　Vronsky listened attentively, but he was not so much interestedby the meaning of the words as by the attitude of Serpuhovskoywho was already contemplating a struggle with the existingpowers, and already had his likes and dislikes in that higherworld, while his own interest in the governing world did not gobeyond the interests of his regiment. Vronsky felt, too, howpowerful Serpuhovskoy might become through his unmistakablefaculty for thinking things out and for taking things in, throughhis intelligence and gift of words, so rarely met with in theworld in which he moved. And, ashamed as he was of the feeling,he felt envious.

　　"Still I haven't the one thing of most importance for that," heanswered; "I haven't the desire for power. I had it once, butit's gone."

　　"Excuse me, that's not true," said Serpuhovskoy, smiling.

　　"Yes, it is true, it is true...now!" Vronsky added, to betruthful.

　　"Yes, it's true now, that's another thing; but that now won'tlast forever."

　　"Perhaps," answered Vronsky.

　　"You say perhaps," Serpuhovskoy went on, as though guessing histhoughts, "but I say for certain. And that's what I wanted tosee you for. Your action was just what it should have been. Isee that, but you ought not to keep it up. I only ask you togive me carte blanche. I'm not going to offer you myprotection...though, indeed, why shouldn't I protect you?--you've protected me often enough! I should hope our friendshiprises above all that sort of thing. Yes," he said, smiling tohim as tenderly as a woman, "give me carte blanche, retire fromthe regiment, and I'll draw you upwards imperceptibly."

　　"But you must understand that I want nothing," said Vronsky,"except that all should be as it is."

　　Serpuhovskoy got up and stood facing him.

　　"You say that all should be as it is. I understand what thatmeans. But listen: we're the same age, you've known a greaternumber of women perhaps than I have." Serpohovskoy's smile andgestures told Vronsky that he mustn't be afraid, that he would betender and careful in touching the sore place. "But I'm married,and believe me, in getting to know thoroughly one's wife, if oneloves her, as someone has said, one gets to know all women betterthan if one knew thousands of them."

　　"We're coming directly!" Vronsky shouted to an officer, wholooked into the room and called them to the colonel.

　　Vronsky was longing now to hear to the end and know whatSerpuhovskey would say to him.

　　"And here's my opinion for you. Women are the chief stumblingblock in a man's career. It's hard to love a woman and doanything. There's only one way of having love convenientlywithout its being a hindrance--that's marriage. How, how am Ito tell you what I mean?" said Serpuhovskoy, who liked similes."Wait a minute, wait a minute! Yes, just as you can only carry afardeau and do something with your hands, when the fardeau istied on your back, and that's marriage. And that's what I feltwhen I was married. My hands were suddenly set free. But todrag that fardeau about with you without marriage, your handswill always be so full that you can do nothing. Look atMazankov, at Krupov. They've ruined their careers for the sakeof women."

　　"What women!" said Vronsky, recalling the Frenchwoman and theactress with whom the two men he had mentioned were connected.

　　"The firmer the woman's footing in society, the worse it is.That's much the same as--not merely carrying the fardeau in yourarms--but tearing it away from someone else."

　　"You have never loved," Vronsky said softly, looking straightbefore him and thinking of Anna.

　　"Perhaps. But you remember what I've said to you. And anotherthing, women are all more materialistic than men. We makesomething immense out of love, but they are alwaysterre-a-terre."

　　"Directly, directly!" he cried to a footman who came in. But thefootman had not come to call them again, as he supposed. Thefootman brought Vronsky a note.

　　"A man brought it from Princess Tverskaya."

　　Vronsky opened the letter, and flushed crimson.

　　"My head's begun to ache; I'm going home," he said toSerpuhovskoy.

　　"Oh, good-bye then. You give me carte blanche!"

　　"We'll talk about it later on; I'll look you up in Petersburg."