He sprang up and stood before her with trembling jaws, pale as death. He now remembered how the Emperor, meeting him on the Névsky, had amiably congratulated him.

“O God, what have I done! Stíva!”

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Oh, how it pains!”

He turned away and went to the house. There he met her mother.

“What is the matter, Prince? I⁠ ⁠…” She became silent on seeing his face. The blood had suddenly rushed to his head.

“You knew it, and used me to shield them! If you weren’t a woman⁠ ⁠… !” he cried, lifting his enormous fist, and turning aside he ran away.

Had his fiancée’s lover been a private person he would have killed him, but it was his beloved Tsar.