Chapter Chapter 4 · Chapter IV
. Chapter IV
“Well, I am going then to tell you my life, and my whole frightful
history,—yes, frightful. And the story itself is more frightful than
the outcome.”
He became silent for a moment, passed his hands over his eyes, and
began:—
“To be understood clearly, the whole must be told from the beginning.
It must be told how and why I married, and what I was before my
marriage. First, I will tell you who I am. The son of a rich gentleman
of the steppes, an old marshal of the nobility, I was a University
pupil, a graduate of the law school. I married in my thirtieth year.
But before talking to you of my marriage, I must tell you how I lived
formerly, and what ideas I had of conjugal life. I led the life of so
many other so-called respectable people,—that is, in debauchery. And
like the majority, while leading the life of a _débauché_, I was
convinced that I was a man of irreproachable morality.
“The idea that I had of my morality arose from the fact that in my
family there was no knowledge of those special debaucheries, so common
in the surroundings of land-owners, and also from the fact that my
father and my mother did not deceive each other. In consequence of
this, I had built from childhood a dream of high and poetical conjugal
life. My wife was to be perfection itself, our mutual love was to be
incomparable, the purity of our conjugal life stainless. I thought
thus, and all the time I marvelled at the nobility of my projects.
“At the same time, I passed ten years of my adult life without hurrying
toward marriage, and I led what I called the well-regulated and
reasonable life of a bachelor. I was proud of it before my friends, and
before all men of my age who abandoned themselves to all sorts of
special refinements. I was not a seducer, I had no unnatural tastes, I
did not make debauchery the principal object of my life; but I found
pleasure within the limits of society’s rules, and innocently believed
myself a profoundly moral being. The women with whom I had relations
did not belong to me alone, and I asked of them nothing but the
pleasure of the moment.
“In all this I saw nothing abnormal. On the contrary, from the fact
that I did not engage my heart, but paid in cash, I supposed that I was
honest. I avoided those women who, by attaching themselves to me, or
presenting me with a child, could bind my future. Moreover, perhaps
there may have been children or attachments; but I so arranged matters
that I could not become aware of them.
“And living thus, I considered myself a perfectly honest man. I did not
understand that debauchery does not consist simply in physical acts,
that no matter what physical ignominy does not yet constitute
debauchery, and that real debauchery consists in freedom from the moral
bonds toward a woman with whom one enters into carnal relations, and I
regarded _this freedom_ as a merit. I remember that I once tortured
myself exceedingly for having forgotten to pay a woman who probably had
given herself to me through love. I only became tranquil again when,
having sent her the money, I had thus shown her that I did not consider
myself as in any way bound to her. Oh, do not shake your head as if you
were in agreement with me (he cried suddenly with vehemence). I know
these tricks. All of you, and you especially, if you are not a rare
exception, have the same ideas that I had then. If you are in agreement
with me, it is now only. Formerly you did not think so. No more did I;
and, if I had been told what I have just told you, that which has
happened would not have happened. However, it is all the same. Excuse
me (he continued): the truth is that it is frightful, frightful,
frightful, this abyss of errors and debaucheries in which we live face
to face with the real question of the rights of woman.” . . .
“What do you mean by the ‘real’ question of the rights of woman?”
“The question of the nature of this special being, organized otherwise
than man, and how this being and man ought to view the wife. . . .”