Anna Karenina

Vronsky's suicide attempt nearly killed him - the wound was dangerous though it didn't touch his heart, and for days he hovered between life and death. When he can finally speak, his brother's wife Varya is alone with him. His first words are crucial: 'I shot myself by accident. And please never speak of it, and tell everyone so. Or else it's too ridiculous.' It's a face-saving lie, and everyone will go along with it. But notice his concern - not for his life or health, but for avoiding ridicule. When Varya finishes changing his bandages, he insists again: 'I'm not delirious. Please manage that there may be no talk of my having shot myself on purpose.' Varya responds with a pointed little joke: 'Only I hope you won't shoot yourself by accident any more.' Vronsky replies darkly: 'Of course I won't, but it would have been better....' - meaning death would have been better than living. As he recovers physically, something unexpected happens psychologically. The suicide attempt, in his mind, has 'washed away the shame and humiliation he had felt before.' By his action - even though it failed - he feels he's expiated something. Now he can think calmly of Karenin and recognize his magnanimity without feeling crushed by it. He can 'look men in the face again without shame' and live according to his own habits. But one thing remains lodged like a thorn in his heart: 'the regret, amounting to despair, that he had lost her forever.' He's decided his duty is clear - having sinned against the husband and now having paid for it with his attempted death, he must renounce Anna completely. Never stand between her repentance and her husband. That's settled. But he can't tear out his longing for her, can't erase the memories of happiness 'that he had so little prized at the time, and that haunted him in all their charm.' Serpuhovskoy has arranged his appointment at Tashkend, and Vronsky agrees without hesitation - it's his path to honorable exile. But as departure approaches, 'the bitterer was the sacrifice he was making to what he thought his duty.' His wound heals. He makes preparations. His thought is melodramatic but sincere: 'To see her once and then to bury myself, to die.' He asks Betsy to arrange one final meeting. She goes to Anna and brings back a refusal. Vronsky tells himself: 'So much the better. It was a weakness, which would have shattered what strength I have left.' He's determined to go through with his noble sacrifice. Then the next day Betsy arrives with explosive news: she's heard through Oblonsky that Karenin has agreed to a divorce. Therefore Vronsky can see Anna. Everything Vronsky has carefully constructed - his resignation, his duty, his sacrifice - collapses instantly. Without even seeing Betsy out, 'forgetting all his resolutions,' without asking anything, he rushes straight to the Karenins' house. He runs up the stairs 'seeing no one and nothing,' almost breaking into a run, and bursts into Anna's room. Without considering whether anyone else is there, he throws his arms around her and covers her face, hands, and neck with kisses. Anna had prepared what she would say to him, but his passion overwhelms everything. She tries to calm him, to calm herself, but 'it was too late. His feeling infected her.' Finally she can speak: 'Yes, you have conquered me, and I am yours.' Vronsky: 'So it had to be. So long as we live, it must be so. I know it now.' Anna, getting whiter and whiter: 'That's true. Still there is something terrible in it after all that has happened.' Vronsky: 'It will all pass, it will all pass; we shall be so happy. Our love, if it could be stronger, will be strengthened by there being something terrible in it.' They're in the full intoxication of reunion, but Anna is visibly shaken - pale, weak, her cropped hair making her look like a boy. Vronsky promises they'll go to Italy where she'll get strong. Anna wonders if they can really be 'like husband and wife, alone, your family with you.' To Vronsky it seems strange 'that it can ever have been otherwise.' But Anna is already thinking about Seryozha and the divorce: 'I don't want a divorce; it's all the same to me now. Only I don't know what he will decide about Seryozha.' Vronsky can't understand how she can think about such things at this moment of reunion. 'Don't speak of that, don't think of it,' he says, trying to draw her attention back to him. But she won't look at him. Then she says what she's been thinking: 'Oh, why didn't I die! it would have been better.' Silent tears flow down both her cheeks, though she tries to smile 'so as not to wound him.' The chapter ends with swift narrative summary covering a month. To decline the prestigious Tashkend appointment would have been disgraceful and impossible to Vronsky - until now. Without an instant's consideration, he declines it. When he observes dissatisfaction 'in the most exalted quarters,' he immediately retires from the army. A month later, Karenin is alone with Seryozha in Petersburg, while Anna and Vronsky have gone abroad. They haven't obtained the divorce. They've 'absolutely declined all idea of one.' This is the end of Part Four - a point of no return. Vronsky has thrown away his military career, his social position, everything. Anna has lost her son and her place in society. They've chosen each other, but the chapter makes clear this isn't a triumphant happy ending - it's a desperate, pale, tearful beginning of something 'terrible' that will now have to be lived through.