Prestuplenie i nakazanie. English by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
CHAPTER II
"Ah these cigarettes!" Porfiry Petrovitch ejaculated at last, havinglighted one. "They are pernicious, positively pernicious, and yet Ican't give them up! I cough, I begin to have tickling in my throat anda difficulty in breathing. You know I am a coward, I went lately toDr. B----n; he always gives at least half an hour to each patient. Hepositively laughed looking at me; he sounded me: 'Tobacco's bad foryou,' he said, 'your lungs are affected.' But how am I to give it up?What is there to take its place? I don't drink, that's the mischief,he-he-he, that I don't. Everything is relative, Rodion Romanovitch,everything is relative!"
"Why, he's playing his professional tricks again," Raskolnikov thoughtwith disgust. All the circumstances of their last interview suddenlycame back to him, and he felt a rush of the feeling that had come uponhim then.
"I came to see you the day before yesterday, in the evening; you didn'tknow?" Porfiry Petrovitch went on, looking round the room. "I came intothis very room. I was passing by, just as I did to-day, and I thoughtI'd return your call. I walked in as your door was wide open, I lookedround, waited and went out without leaving my name with your servant.Don't you lock your door?"
Raskolnikov's face grew more and more gloomy. Porfiry seemed to guesshis state of mind.
"I've come to have it out with you, Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow!I owe you an explanation and must give it to you," he continued with aslight smile, just patting Raskolnikov's knee.
But almost at the same instant a serious and careworn look came into hisface; to his surprise Raskolnikov saw a touch of sadness in it. He hadnever seen and never suspected such an expression in his face.
"A strange scene passed between us last time we met, Rodion Romanovitch.Our first interview, too, was a strange one; but then... and one thingafter another! This is the point: I have perhaps acted unfairly to you;I feel it. Do you remember how we parted? Your nerves were unhinged andyour knees were shaking and so were mine. And, you know, our behaviourwas unseemly, even ungentlemanly. And yet we are gentlemen, above all,in any case, gentlemen; that must be understood. Do you remember what wecame to?... and it was quite indecorous."
"What is he up to, what does he take me for?" Raskolnikov asked himselfin amazement, raising his head and looking with open eyes on Porfiry.
"I've decided openness is better between us," Porfiry Petrovitch wenton, turning his head away and dropping his eyes, as though unwilling todisconcert his former victim and as though disdaining his former wiles."Yes, such suspicions and such scenes cannot continue for long. Nikolayput a stop to it, or I don't know what we might not have come to. Thatdamned workman was sitting at the time in the next room--can you realisethat? You know that, of course; and I am aware that he came to youafterwards. But what you supposed then was not true: I had not sent foranyone, I had made no kind of arrangements. You ask why I hadn't? Whatshall I say to you? it had all come upon me so suddenly. I had scarcelysent for the porters (you noticed them as you went out, I dare say).An idea flashed upon me; I was firmly convinced at the time, you see,Rodion Romanovitch. Come, I thought--even if I let one thing slip fora time, I shall get hold of something else--I shan't lose what I want,anyway. You are nervously irritable, Rodion Romanovitch, by temperament;it's out of proportion with other qualities of your heart and character,which I flatter myself I have to some extent divined. Of course I didreflect even then that it does not always happen that a man gets up andblurts out his whole story. It does happen sometimes, if you make aman lose all patience, though even then it's rare. I was capable ofrealising that. If I only had a fact, I thought, the least little factto go upon, something I could lay hold of, something tangible, notmerely psychological. For if a man is guilty, you must be able to getsomething substantial out of him; one may reckon upon most surprisingresults indeed. I was reckoning on your temperament, Rodion Romanovitch,on your temperament above all things! I had great hopes of you at thattime."
"But what are you driving at now?" Raskolnikov muttered at last, askingthe question without thinking.
"What is he talking about?" he wondered distractedly, "does he reallytake me to be innocent?"
"What am I driving at? I've come to explain myself, I consider it myduty, so to speak. I want to make clear to you how the whole business,the whole misunderstanding arose. I've caused you a great deal ofsuffering, Rodion Romanovitch. I am not a monster. I understand whatit must mean for a man who has been unfortunate, but who is proud,imperious and above all, impatient, to have to bear such treatment!I regard you in any case as a man of noble character and not withoutelements of magnanimity, though I don't agree with all your convictions.I wanted to tell you this first, frankly and quite sincerely, for aboveall I don't want to deceive you. When I made your acquaintance, I feltattracted by you. Perhaps you will laugh at my saying so. You have aright to. I know you disliked me from the first and indeed you've noreason to like me. You may think what you like, but I desire now to doall I can to efface that impression and to show that I am a man of heartand conscience. I speak sincerely."
Porfiry Petrovitch made a dignified pause. Raskolnikov felt a rush ofrenewed alarm. The thought that Porfiry believed him to be innocentbegan to make him uneasy.
"It's scarcely necessary to go over everything in detail," PorfiryPetrovitch went on. "Indeed, I could scarcely attempt it. To begin withthere were rumours. Through whom, how, and when those rumours came tome... and how they affected you, I need not go into. My suspicionswere aroused by a complete accident, which might just as easily not havehappened. What was it? Hm! I believe there is no need to go into thateither. Those rumours and that accident led to one idea in my mind. Iadmit it openly--for one may as well make a clean breast of it--I wasthe first to pitch on you. The old woman's notes on the pledges andthe rest of it--that all came to nothing. Yours was one of a hundred.I happened, too, to hear of the scene at the office, from a man whodescribed it capitally, unconsciously reproducing the scene with greatvividness. It was just one thing after another, Rodion Romanovitch, mydear fellow! How could I avoid being brought to certain ideas? From ahundred rabbits you can't make a horse, a hundred suspicions don't makea proof, as the English proverb says, but that's only from the rationalpoint of view--you can't help being partial, for after all a lawyeris only human. I thought, too, of your article in that journal, do youremember, on your first visit we talked of it? I jeered at you at thetime, but that was only to lead you on. I repeat, Rodion Romanovitch,you are ill and impatient. That you were bold, headstrong, in earnestand... had felt a great deal I recognised long before. I, too, have feltthe same, so that your article seemed familiar to me. It was conceivedon sleepless nights, with a throbbing heart, in ecstasy and suppressedenthusiasm. And that proud suppressed enthusiasm in young people isdangerous! I jeered at you then, but let me tell you that, as a literaryamateur, I am awfully fond of such first essays, full of the heat ofyouth. There is a mistiness and a chord vibrating in the mist. Yourarticle is absurd and fantastic, but there's a transparent sincerity,a youthful incorruptible pride and the daring of despair in it. It's agloomy article, but that's what's fine in it. I read your article andput it aside, thinking as I did so 'that man won't go the common way.'Well, I ask you, after that as a preliminary, how could I help beingcarried away by what followed? Oh, dear, I am not saying anything, Iam not making any statement now. I simply noted it at the time. What isthere in it? I reflected. There's nothing in it, that is really nothingand perhaps absolutely nothing. And it's not at all the thing forthe prosecutor to let himself be carried away by notions: here I haveNikolay on my hands with actual evidence against him--you may think whatyou like of it, but it's evidence. He brings in his psychology, too; onehas to consider him, too, for it's a matter of life and death. Why amI explaining this to you? That you may understand, and not blame mymalicious behaviour on that occasion. It was not malicious, I assureyou, he-he! Do you suppose I didn't come to search your room at thetime? I did, I did, he-he! I was here when you were lying ill in bed,not officially, not in my
"Now, why need you have come? Your laughter, too, as you came in, do youremember? I saw it all plain as daylight, but if I hadn't expected youso specially, I should not have noticed anything in your laughter. Yousee what influence a mood has! Mr. Razumihin then--ah, that stone, thatstone under which the things were hidden! I seem to see it somewherein a kitchen garden. It was in a kitchen garden, you told Zametov andafterwards you repeated that in my office? And when we began pickingyour article to pieces, how you explained it! One could take every wordof yours in two senses, as though there were another meaning hidden.
"So in this way, Rodion Romanovitch, I reached the furthest limit, andknocking my head against a post, I pulled myself up, asking myself whatI was about. After all, I said, you can take it all in another sense ifyou like, and it's more natural so, indeed. I couldn't help admittingit was more natural. I was bothered! 'No, I'd better get hold of somelittle fact' I said. So when I heard of the bell-ringing, I held mybreath and was all in a tremor. 'Here is my little fact,' thought I, andI didn't think it over, I simply wouldn't. I would have given a thousandroubles at that minute to have seen you with my own eyes, when youwalked a hundred paces beside that workman, after he had called youmurderer to your face, and you did not dare to ask him a questionall the way. And then what about your trembling, what about yourbell-ringing in your illness, in semi-delirium?
"And so, Rodion Romanovitch, can you wonder that I played such pranks onyou? And what made you come at that very minute? Someone seemed tohave sent you, by Jove! And if Nikolay had not parted us... and do youremember Nikolay at the time? Do you remember him clearly? It was athunderbolt, a regular thunderbolt! And how I met him! I didn't believein the thunderbolt, not for a minute. You could see it for yourself;and how could I? Even afterwards, when you had gone and he began makingvery, very plausible answers on certain points, so that I was surprisedat him myself, even then I didn't believe his story! You see what it isto be as firm as a rock! No, thought I, _Morgenfrueh_. What has Nikolaygot to do with it!"
"Razumihin told me just now that you think Nikolay guilty and hadyourself assured him of it...."
His voice failed him, and he broke off. He had been listening inindescribable agitation, as this man who had seen through and throughhim, went back upon himself. He was afraid of believing it and did notbelieve it. In those still ambiguous words he kept eagerly looking forsomething more definite and conclusive.
"Mr. Razumihin!" cried Porfiry Petrovitch, seeming glad of a questionfrom Raskolnikov, who had till then been silent. "He-he-he! But I had toput Mr. Razumihin off; two is company, three is none. Mr. Razumihin isnot the right man, besides he is an outsider. He came running to mewith a pale face.... But never mind him, why bring him in? To returnto Nikolay, would you like to know what sort of a type he is, how Iunderstand him, that is? To begin with, he is still a child and notexactly a coward, but something by way of an artist. Really, don't laughat my describing him so. He is innocent and responsive to influence. Hehas a heart, and is a fantastic fellow. He sings and dances, he tellsstories, they say, so that people come from other villages to hear him.He attends school too, and laughs till he cries if you hold up a fingerto him; he will drink himself senseless--not as a regular vice, but attimes, when people treat him, like a child. And he stole, too, then,without knowing it himself, for 'How can it be stealing, if one picks itup?' And do you know he is an Old Believer, or rather a dissenter? Therehave been Wanderers[*] in his family, and he was for two years in hisvillage under the spiritual guidance of a certain elder. I learnt allthis from Nikolay and from his fellow villagers. And what's more, hewanted to run into the wilderness! He was full of fervour, prayed atnight, read the old books, 'the true' ones, and read himself crazy.
[*] A religious sect.--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.
"Petersburg had a great effect upon him, especially the women and thewine. He responds to everything and he forgot the elder and all that. Ilearnt that an artist here took a fancy to him, and used to go and seehim, and now this business came upon him.
"Well, he was frightened, he tried to hang himself! He ran away! How canone get over the idea the people have of Russian legal proceedings? Thevery word 'trial' frightens some of them. Whose fault is it? We shallsee what the new juries will do. God grant they do good! Well, inprison, it seems, he remembered the venerable elder; the Bible, too,made its appearance again. Do you know, Rodion Romanovitch, the force ofthe word 'suffering' among some of these people! It's not a question ofsuffering for someone's benefit, but simply, 'one must suffer.' If theysuffer at the hands of the authorities, so much the better. In my timethere was a very meek and mild prisoner who spent a whole year in prisonalways reading his Bible on the stove at night and he read himselfcrazy, and so crazy, do you know, that one day, apropos of nothing, heseized a brick and flung it at the governor; though he had done himno harm. And the way he threw it too: aimed it a yard on one sideon purpose, for fear of hurting him. Well, we know what happens toa prisoner who assaults an officer with a weapon. So 'he took hissuffering.'
"So I suspect now that Nikolay wants to take his suffering or somethingof the sort. I know it for certain from facts, indeed. Only he doesn'tknow that I know. What, you don't admit that there are such fantasticpeople among the peasants? Lots of them. The elder now has beguninfluencing him, especially since he tried to hang himself. But he'llcome and tell me all himself. You think he'll hold out? Wait a bit,he'll take his words back. I am waiting from hour to hour for him tocome and abjure his evidence. I have come to like that Nikolay and amstudying him in detail. And what do you think? He-he! He answered mevery plausibly on some points, he obviously had collected some evidenceand prepared himself cleverly. But on other points he is simply at sea,knows nothing and doesn't even suspect that he doesn't know!
"No, Rodion Romanovitch, Nikolay doesn't come in! This is a fantastic,gloomy business, a modern case, an incident of to-day when the heartof man is troubled, when the phrase is quoted that blood 'renews,' whencomfort is preached as the aim of life. Here we have bookish dreams, aheart unhinged by theories. Here we see resolution in the first stage,but resolution of a special kind: he resolved to do it like jumping overa precipice or from a bell tower and his legs shook as he went to thecrime. He forgot to shut the door after him, and murdered two people fora theory. He committed the murder and couldn't take the money, and whathe did manage to snatch up he hid under a stone. It wasn't enough forhim to suffer agony behind the door while they battered at the door andrung the bell, no, he had to go to the empty lodging, half delirious, torecall the bell-ringing, he wanted to feel the cold shiver over again....Well, that we grant, was through illness, but consider this: he isa murderer, but looks upon himself as an honest man, despises others,poses as injured innocence. No, that's not the work of a Nikolay, mydear Rodion Romanovitch!"
All that had been said before had sounded so like a recantation thatthese words were too great a shock. Raskolnikov shuddered as though hehad been stabbed.
"Then... who then... is the murderer?" he asked in a breathless voice,unable to restrain himself.
Porfiry Petrovitch sank bac
"Who is the murderer?" he repeated, as though unable to believe hisears. "Why, _you_, Rodion Romanovitch! You are the murderer," he added,almost in a whisper, in a voice of genuine conviction.
Raskolnikov leapt from the sofa, stood up for a few seconds and sat downagain without uttering a word. His face twitched convulsively.
"Your lip is twitching just as it did before," Porfiry Petrovitchobserved almost sympathetically. "You've been misunderstanding me, Ithink, Rodion Romanovitch," he added after a brief pause, "that's whyyou are so surprised. I came on purpose to tell you everything and dealopenly with you."
"It was not I murdered her," Raskolnikov whispered like a frightenedchild caught in the act.
"No, it was you, you Rodion Romanovitch, and no one else," Porfirywhispered sternly, with conviction.
They were both silent and the silence lasted strangely long, about tenminutes. Raskolnikov put his elbow on the table and passed his fingersthrough his hair. Porfiry Petrovitch sat quietly waiting. SuddenlyRaskolnikov looked scornfully at Porfiry.
"You are at your old tricks again, Porfiry Petrovitch! Your old methodagain. I wonder you don't get sick of it!"
"Oh, stop that, what does that matter now? It would be a differentmatter if there were witnesses present, but we are whispering alone. Yousee yourself that I have not come to chase and capture you like a hare.Whether you confess it or not is nothing to me now; for myself, I amconvinced without it."
"If so, what did you come for?" Raskolnikov asked irritably. "I ask youthe same question again: if you consider me guilty, why don't you takeme to prison?"
"Oh, that's your question! I will answer you, point for point. In thefirst place, to arrest you so directly is not to my interest."
"How so? If you are convinced you ought...."
"Ach, what if I am convinced? That's only my dream for the time. Whyshould I put you in safety? You know that's it, since you ask me to doit. If I confront you with that workman for instance and you say to him'were you drunk or not? Who saw me with you? I simply took you to bedrunk, and you were drunk, too.' Well, what could I answer, especiallyas your story is a more likely one than his? for there's nothing butpsychology to support his evidence--that's almost unseemly with his uglymug, while you hit the mark exactly, for the rascal is an inveteratedrunkard and notoriously so. And I have myself admitted candidly severaltimes already that that psychology can be taken in two ways and that thesecond way is stronger and looks far more probable, and that apart fromthat I have as yet nothing against you. And though I shall put you inprison and indeed have come--quite contrary to etiquette--to inform youof it beforehand, yet I tell you frankly, also contrary to etiquette,that it won't be to my advantage. Well, secondly, I've come to youbecause..."
"Yes, yes, secondly?" Raskolnikov was listening breathless.
"Because, as I told you just now, I consider I owe you an explanation. Idon't want you to look upon me as a monster, as I have a genuine likingfor you, you may believe me or not. And in the third place I've come toyou with a direct and open proposition--that you should surrenderand confess. It will be infinitely more to your advantage and to myadvantage too, for my task will be done. Well, is this open on my partor not?"
Raskolnikov thought a minute.
"Listen, Porfiry Petrovitch. You said just now you have nothing butpsychology to go on, yet now you've gone on mathematics. Well, what ifyou are mistaken yourself, now?"
"No, Rodion Romanovitch, I am not mistaken. I have a little fact eventhen, Providence sent it me."
"What little fact?"
"I won't tell you what, Rodion Romanovitch. And in any case, I haven'tthe right to put it off any longer, I must arrest you. So think it over:it makes no difference to me _now_ and so I speak only for your sake.Believe me, it will be better, Rodion Romanovitch."
Raskolnikov smiled malignantly.
"That's not simply ridiculous, it's positively shameless. Why, even if Iwere guilty, which I don't admit, what reason should I have to confess,when you tell me yourself that I shall be in greater safety in prison?"
"Ah, Rodion Romanovitch, don't put too much faith in words, perhapsprison will not be altogether a restful place. That's only theory andmy theory, and what authority am I for you? Perhaps, too, even now I amhiding something from you? I can't lay bare everything, he-he! And howcan you ask what advantage? Don't you know how it would lessen yoursentence? You would be confessing at a moment when another man has takenthe crime on himself and so has muddled the whole case. Consider that! Iswear before God that I will so arrange that your confession shallcome as a complete surprise. We will make a clean sweep of all thesepsychological points, of a suspicion against you, so that your crimewill appear to have been something like an aberration, for in truth itwas an aberration. I am an honest man, Rodion Romanovitch, and will keepmy word."
Raskolnikov maintained a mournful silence and let his head sinkdejectedly. He pondered a long while and at last smiled again, but hissmile was sad and gentle.
"No!" he said, apparently abandoning all attempt to keep up appearanceswith Porfiry, "it's not worth it, I don't care about lessening thesentence!"
"That's just what I was afraid of!" Porfiry cried warmly and, as itseemed, involuntarily. "That's just what I feared, that you wouldn'tcare about the mitigation of sentence."
Raskolnikov looked sadly and expressively at him.
"Ah, don't disdain life!" Porfiry went on. "You have a great deal ofit still before you. How can you say you don't want a mitigation ofsentence? You are an impatient fellow!"
"A great deal of what lies before me?"
"Of life. What sort of prophet are you, do you know much about it? Seekand ye shall find. This may be God's means for bringing you to Him. Andit's not for ever, the bondage...."
"The time will be shortened," laughed Raskolnikov.
"Why, is it the bourgeois disgrace you are afraid of? It may be that youare afraid of it without knowing it, because you are young! But anyway_you_ shouldn't be afraid of giving yourself up and confessing."
"Ach, hang it!" Raskolnikov whispered with loathing and contempt, asthough he did not want to speak aloud.
He got up again as though he meant to go away, but sat down again inevident despair.
"Hang it, if you like! You've lost faith and you think that I amgrossly flattering you; but how long has your life been? How much doyou understand? You made up a theory and then were ashamed that it brokedown and turned out to be not at all original! It turned out somethingbase, that's true, but you are not hopelessly base. By no means so base!At least you didn't deceive yourself for long, you went straight to thefurthest point at one bound. How do I regard you? I regard you as oneof those men who would stand and smile at their torturer while he cutstheir entrails out, if only they have found faith or God. Find it andyou will live. You have long needed a change of air. Suffering, too,is a good thing. Suffer! Maybe Nikolay is right in wanting to suffer.I know you don't believe in it--but don't be over-wise; fling yourselfstraight into life, without deliberation; don't be afraid--the floodwill bear you to the bank and set you safe on your feet again. Whatbank? How can I tell? I only believe that you have long life beforeyou. I know that you take all my words now for a set speech preparedbeforehand, but maybe you will remember them after. They may be of usesome time. That's why I speak. It's as well that you only killed theold woman. If you'd invented another theory you might perhaps havedone something a thousand times more hideous. You ought to thank God,perhaps. How do you know? Perhaps God is saving you for something.But keep a good heart and have less fear! Are you afraid of the greatexpiation before you? No, it would be shameful to be afraid of it. Sinceyou have taken such a step, you must harden your heart. There is justicein it. You must fulfil the demands of justice. I know that you don'tbelieve it, but indeed, life will bring you through. You will live itdown in time. What you need now is fresh air, fresh air, fresh air!"
Raskolnikov positively
"But who are you? what prophet are you? From the height of what majesticcalm do you proclaim these words of wisdom?"
"Who am I? I am a man with nothing to hope for, that's all. A manperhaps of feeling and sympathy, maybe of some knowledge too, but my dayis over. But you are a different matter, there is life waiting for you.Though, who knows? maybe your life, too, will pass off in smoke and cometo nothing. Come, what does it matter, that you will pass into anotherclass of men? It's not comfort you regret, with your heart! What ofit that perhaps no one will see you for so long? It's not time, butyourself that will decide that. Be the sun and all will see you. Thesun has before all to be the sun. Why are you smiling again? At my beingsuch a Schiller? I bet you're imagining that I am trying to get roundyou by flattery. Well, perhaps I am, he-he-he! Perhaps you'd better notbelieve my word, perhaps you'd better never believe it altogether--I'mmade that way, I confess it. But let me add, you can judge for yourself,I think, how far I am a base sort of man and how far I am honest."
"When do you mean to arrest me?"
"Well, I can let you walk about another day or two. Think it over, mydear fellow, and pray to God. It's more in your interest, believe me."
"And what if I run away?" asked Raskolnikov with a strange smile.
"No, you won't run away. A peasant would run away, a fashionabledissenter would run away, the flunkey of another man's thought, foryou've only to show him the end of your little finger and he'll be readyto believe in anything for the rest of his life. But you've ceased tobelieve in your theory already, what will you run away with? And whatwould you do in hiding? It would be hateful and difficult for you, andwhat you need more than anything in life is a definite position, anatmosphere to suit you. And what sort of atmosphere would you have? Ifyou ran away, you'd come back to yourself. _You can't get on withoutus._ And if I put you in prison--say you've been there a month, or two,or three--remember my word, you'll confess of yourself and perhaps toyour own surprise. You won't know an hour beforehand that you are comingwith a confession. I am convinced that you will decide, 'to take yoursuffering.' You don't believe my words now, but you'll come to it ofyourself. For suffering, Rodion Romanovitch, is a great thing. Nevermind my having grown fat, I know all the same. Don't laugh at it,there's an idea in suffering, Nokolay is right. No, you won't run away,Rodion Romanovitch."
Raskolnikov got up and took his cap. Porfiry Petrovitch also rose.
"Are you going for a walk? The evening will be fine, if only we don'thave a storm. Though it would be a good thing to freshen the air."
He, too, took his cap.
"Porfiry Petrovitch, please don't take up the notion that I haveconfessed to you to-day," Raskolnikov pronounced with sullen insistence."You're a strange man and I have listened to you from simple curiosity.But I have admitted nothing, remember that!"
"Oh, I know that, I'll remember. Look at him, he's trembling! Don'tbe uneasy, my dear fellow, have it your own way. Walk about a bit, youwon't be able to walk too far. If anything happens, I have one requestto make of you," he added, dropping his voice. "It's an awkward one, butimportant. If anything were to happen (though indeed I don't believein it and think you quite incapable of it), yet in case you were takenduring these forty or fifty hours with the notion of putting an end tothe business in some other way, in some fantastic fashion--laying handson yourself--(it's an absurd proposition, but you must forgive me forit) do leave a brief but precise note, only two lines, and mention thestone. It will be more generous. Come, till we meet! Good thoughts andsound decisions to you!"
Porfiry went out, stooping and avoiding looking at Raskolnikov. Thelatter went to the window and waited with irritable impatience till hecalculated that Porfiry had reached the street and moved away. Then hetoo went hurriedly out of the room.