"Intoxicated with my glory and success, I forgot too soon my youth and my sheep, and this forgetfulness ruined me.I was called to attend a cavalry officer retired from service.He had a daughter named Pauline; she was beautiful and charming.I thought myself insensible to love, but I had hardly seen her before I conceived a violent passion for her.Bear in mind that I had lived until that time as pure as an ascetic monk; science had been my adored and lofty mistress.When passion fires a chaste heart, it becomes a fury there.I loved Pauline with frenzy, with idolatry.One day she gave me to understand that my folly did not displease her.Ideclared myself to her father, obtained his consent, and felt as if I should die of happiness.The next day I sought Count Kostia, and telling him my story, supplicated him to emancipate me.He laughed, and declared such an extravagant idea was unworthy of me.
Marriage was not what I required.A wife, children, useless encumbrances in my life! Petty delights and domestic cares would extinguish the fire of my genius, would kill in me the spirit of research and vigor of thought.Besides, was my passion serious?
From what he knew of my disposition, I was incapable of loving.It was a fantastic trick which my imagination had played me.Only remain a week without seeing Pauline, and I would be cured.My only answer was to throw myself at his feet.I glued my mouth to his hands, watered his knees with my tears, and kissed the ground before him.He laughed throughout, and asked me with a sneer, if to possess Pauline it were necessary to marry her.My love was an adoration.At these insulting words anger took possession of me.
I poured forth imprecations and threats.Presently, however, recovering myself, I begged him to forgive my transports, and resuming the language of servile humility, I endeavored to soften that heart of bronze with my tears.Trouble lost; he remained inflexible.I rolled upon the floor and tore my hair; and he still laughed-- That must have been a curious scene.Recollect that at this epoch I was quite recherche in my costume.I had an embroidered frill and very fine ruffles of point d'Alencon.I wore rings on every finger, and my coat was of the latest style and of elegant cut.Fancy, also, that my deportment, my gait, my air breathed of pride and arrogance.Parvenus try it in vain, they always betray themselves.I had a high tone, an overbearing manner.I enveloped myself in mysterious darkness, which obscured at times the brightness of my genius, and as I had accomplished several extraordinary cures, strongly resembling miracles, or tricks of sorcery, my airs of an inspired priest did not seem out of place, and I had devotees who encouraged these licenses of my pride by the excess of their humility.And then, behold, suddenly, this man of importance, this miraculous personage, flat upon his face, imploring the mercy of an inexorable master, writhing like a worm of the earth under the foot which crushed his heart! At last Kostia Petrovitch lost patience, seized me in his powerful hands, set me upon my feet, and pushing me violently against the wall, cried in a voice of thunder, 'Vladimir Paulitch, spare me your effeminate contortions, and remember who I am and who you are.One day I saw an ugly piece of charcoal in the road.I picked it up at the risk of soiling my fingers, and, as I am something of a chemist, I put it in my crucible and converted it into a diamond.
But just as I have set my jewel, and am about to wear it on my finger, you ask me to give it up! Ah! my son, I do not know what keeps me from sending you back to your sheep.Go, make an effort to conquer your passion; be reasonable, be yourself again.Wait until my death, my will shall emancipate you; but until then, even at the risk of your displeasure, you shall be my THING, my PROPERTY.Take care you do not forget it, or I will shatter you in pieces like this glass;' and, seizing a phial from the table, he threw it against the wall, where it broke in fragments.
"Sir, Count Kostia displayed a little too much energy at the time, but at bottom he was right.Was it just that he should lose all the fruits of his trouble? Think what a gratification it was to his pride, to be able to say to himself, 'The great doctor, so feted, so admired, is my thing and my property.' His words were true; he wore me as a ring upon his finger.And then he foresaw the future.For two consecutive years it has only been necessary for him to move the end of his forefinger, to make me run from the heart of Russia to soothe his poor tormented nerves.You know how the heart of man is made.If he had had the imprudence to emancipate me, I should have come last year out of gratitude; but this time--"While Vladimir spoke, Gilbert thought to himself, "This man is truly the compatriot of Count Leminof."And then recalling the amiable and generous Muscovite with whom he had once been intimate, he justly concluded that Russia is large, and that nature, taking pleasure in contrasts, produces in that great country alternately the hardest and the most tender souls in the world.
"One word more," continued Vladimir: "Count Kostia was right; but unfortunately passion will not listen to reason.I left him with death in my heart, but firmly resolved to cope with him and to carry my point.You see that upon this occasion I observed but poorly the great maxim, Sequere fatum.I flattered myself I should be able to stem the current.Vain illusion!--but without it would one be in love? Pauline lived in a small town at about two leagues from our village.Whenever I had leisure, I mounted a horse and flew to her.The third day after the terrible scene, I took a drive with this amiable girl and her father.As we were about to leave the village, I was seized with a sudden trembling at the sight of Count Kostia on the footpath, holding his gold-headed cane under his arm and making his way quietly toward us.He recognized us, smiled agreeably, and signed to the coachman to stop and to me to descend.
