Meanwhile the clergy had put on their vestments, and the priest and deacon came out to the lectern that stood inside the porch of the church.10 The priest turned to Levin and said something. Levin could not make out what the priest said.
‘Take the bride’s hand and lead her,’ the best man said to Levin.
For a long time Levin could not understand what was required of him. For a long time they kept correcting him and were about to give it up - because he kept either taking the wrong hand or taking it with the wrong hand - when he finally understood that he had to take her right hand with his own right hand without changing position. When he finally took the bride by the hand as he was supposed to, the priest went a few steps ahead of them and stopped at the lectern. The crowd of relations and acquaintances moved after them with a buzz of talk and a rustle of skirts. Someone bent down and straightened the bride’s train. The church became so still that the dripping of wax could be heard.
The little old priest, in a kamilavka,11 with the silvery gleam of his grey locks of hair pulled back on both sides behind his ears, drew his small, old man’s hands out from under his heavy chasuble, silver with a gold cross on the back, and fumbled with something at the lectern.
Stepan Arkadyich cautiously went up to him, whispered something, and, with a wink at Levin, went back again.
The priest lighted two candles adorned with flowers, holding them slantwise in his left hand so that the wax slowly dripped from them, and turned to face the young couple. He was the same priest who had confessed Levin. He looked wearily and sadly at the bride and bridegroom, sighed and, drawing his right hand out from under the chasuble, blessed the bridegroom and in the same way, but with a touch of careful tenderness placed his joined fingers over Kitty’s bowed head. Then he handed them the candles and, taking the censer, slowly moved away from them.
‘Can this be true?’ Levin thought and looked at his bride. He could see her profile from slightly above, and by the barely perceptible movement of her lips and eyelashes he knew that she felt his gaze. She did not turn, but her high, fluted collar stirred, rising to her small pink ear. He could see that a sigh had stopped in her breast, and her small hand in its long glove trembled, holding the candle.
All the fuss over the shirt, over being late, the talking with acquaintances, relations, their displeasure, his ridiculousness - all suddenly vanished, and he felt joyful and frightened.
The handsome, tall protodeacon in a silver surplice, his brushed, curled locks standing out on either side, stepped briskly forward and, raising his stole in two fingers with an accustomed gesture, stopped in front of the priest.
‘Ble-e-ess, ma-a-aster!’ Slowly, one after the other, the solemn tones resounded, making the air ripple.
‘Blessed is our God always, now, and ever, and unto ages of ages,’ the old priest responded humbly and melodiously, continuing to fumble with something on the lectern. And, filling the whole church from windows to vaults, broadly and harmoniously, the full chord of the invisible choir rose, swelled, paused for a moment, and slowly died away.
The prayer was, as always, for the peace from above, for salvation, for the Synod,12 for the emperor, and also for the servants of God Konstantin and Ekaterina, betrothed that day.
‘That He will send down upon them perfect and peaceful love, and succour, let us pray to the Lord’ - the whole church seemed to breathe through the protodeacon’s voice.
Levin listened to the words and they struck him. ‘How did they guess that it’s succour, precisely succour?’ he thought, remembering all his recent fears and doubts. ‘What do I know? What can I do in this terrible matter,’ he thought, ‘without succour? It’s precisely succour that I need now.’
When the deacon finished the litany, the priest turned with his book to the couple to be betrothed:
‘O eternal God, who has brought into unity those who were sundered,’ he read in a mild, melodious voice, ‘and hast ordained for them an indissoluble bond of love; who didst bless Isaac and Rebecca and didst make them heirs of thy promise: bless also these thy servants, Konstantin and Ekaterina, guiding them unto every good work. For thou art a merciful God, who lovest mankind, and unto thee do we ascribe glory, to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now, and ever, and unto ages of ages.’
‘A-a-men!’ the invisible choir again poured into the air.
‘ “Who hast brought into unity those who were sundered, and hast ordained for them an indissoluble bond of love” - how profound these words are, and how well they correspond to what one feels at this moment!’ thought Levin. ‘Does she feel the same as I do?’
And, turning, he met her eyes.
