English
HehurriedtoSvidrigailov’s.Whathehadtohopefromthatmanhedidnotknow.Butthatmanhadsomehiddenpoweroverhim.Havingoncerecognisedthis,hecouldnotrest,andnowthetimehadcome.
Ontheway,onequestionparticularlyworriedhim:hadSvidrigailovbeentoPorfiry’s?
Asfarashecouldjudge,hewouldsweartoit,thathehadnot.Heponderedagainandagain,wentoverPorfiry’svisit;no,hehadn’tbeen,ofcoursehehadn’t.
Butifhehadnotbeenyet,wouldhego?
Meanwhile,forthepresenthefanciedhecouldn’t.Why?
Hecouldnothaveexplained,butifhecould,hewouldnothavewastedmuchthoughtoveritatthemoment.
Itallworriedhimandatthesametimehecouldnotattendtoit.
Strangetosay,nonewouldhavebelieveditperhaps,butheonlyfeltafaintvagueanxietyabouthisimmediatefuture.
Another,muchmoreimportantanxietytormentedhim—itconcernedhimself,butinadifferent,morevitalway.
Moreover,hewasconsciousofimmensemoralfatigue,thoughhismindwasworkingbetterthatmorningthanithaddoneoflate.
Andwasitworthwhile,afterallthathadhappened,tocontendwiththesenewtrivialdifficulties?
Wasitworthwhile,forinstance,tomanoeuvrethatSvidrigailovshouldnotgotoPorfiry’s?
Wasitworthwhiletoinvestigate,toascertainthefacts,towastetimeoveranyonelikeSvidrigailov?
Oh,howsickhewasofitall!
AndyethewashasteningtoSvidrigailov;couldhebeexpectingsomethingnewfromhim,information,ormeansofescape?Menwillcatchatstraws!
Wasitdestinyorsomeinstinctbringingthemtogether?
Perhapsitwasonlyfatigue,despair;perhapsitwasnotSvidrigailovbutsomeotherwhomheneeded,andSvidrigailovhadsimplypresentedhimselfbychance.Sonia?ButwhatshouldhegotoSoniafornow?Tobeghertearsagain?HewasafraidofSonia,too.
Soniastoodbeforehimasanirrevocablesentence.Hemustgohisownwayorhers.
Atthatmomentespeciallyhedidnotfeelequaltoseeingher.
No,woulditnotbebettertotrySvidrigailov?
Andhecouldnothelpinwardlyowningthathehadlongfeltthathemustseehimforsomereason.
Butwhatcouldtheyhaveincommon?Theirveryevil-doingcouldnotbeofthesamekind.
Theman,moreover,wasveryunpleasant,evidentlydepraved,undoubtedlycunninganddeceitful,possiblymalignant.Suchstoriesweretoldabouthim.
ItistruehewasbefriendingKaterinaIvanovna’schildren,butwhocouldtellwithwhatmotiveandwhatitmeant?
Themanalwayshadsomedesign,someproject.
TherewasanotherthoughtwhichhadbeencontinuallyhoveringoflateaboutRaskolnikov’smind,andcausinghimgreatuneasiness.
Itwassopainfulthathemadedistincteffortstogetridofit.
HesometimesthoughtthatSvidrigailovwasdogginghisfootsteps.
SvidrigailovhadfoundouthissecretandhadhaddesignsonDounia.Whatifhehadthemstill?
Wasn’titpracticallycertainthathehad?
Andwhatif,havinglearnthissecretandsohavinggainedpoweroverhim,heweretouseitasaweaponagainstDounia?
Thisideasometimeseventormentedhisdreams,butithadneverpresenteditselfsovividlytohimasonhiswaytoSvidrigailov.
Theverythoughtmovedhimtogloomyrage.
Tobeginwith,thiswouldtransformeverything,evenhisownposition;hewouldhaveatoncetoconfesshissecrettoDounia.
WouldhehavetogivehimselfupperhapstopreventDouniafromtakingsomerashstep?Theletter?
ThismorningDouniahadreceivedaletter.
FromwhomcouldshegetlettersinPetersburg?Luzhin,perhaps?
It’strueRazumihinwastheretoprotecther,butRazumihinknewnothingoftheposition.
PerhapsitwashisdutytotellRazumihin?Hethoughtofitwithrepugnance.
InanycasehemustseeSvidrigailovassoonaspossible,hedecidedfinally.
ThankGod,thedetailsoftheinterviewwereoflittleconsequence,ifonlyhecouldgetattherootofthematter;butifSvidrigailovwerecapable…ifhewereintriguingagainstDounia—then…
Raskolnikovwassoexhaustedbywhathehadpassedthroughthatmonththathecouldonlydecidesuchquestionsinoneway;“thenIshallkillhim,”hethoughtincolddespair.
Asuddenanguishoppressedhisheart,hestoodstillinthemiddleofthestreetandbeganlookingabouttoseewherehewasandwhichwayhewasgoing.
HefoundhimselfinX.Prospect,thirtyorfortypacesfromtheHayMarket,throughwhichhehadcome.
Thewholesecondstoreyofthehouseontheleftwasusedasatavern.
Allthewindowswerewideopen;judgingfromthefiguresmovingatthewindows,theroomswerefulltooverflowing.
Thereweresoundsofsinging,ofclarionetandviolin,andtheboomofaTurkishdrum.Hecouldhearwomenshrieking.
HewasabouttoturnbackwonderingwhyhehadcometotheX.Prospect,whensuddenlyatoneoftheendwindowshesawSvidrigailov,sittingatatea-tablerightintheopenwindowwithapipeinhismouth.
Raskolnikovwasdreadfullytakenaback,almostterrified.
Svidrigailovwassilentlywatchingandscrutinisinghimand,whatstruckRaskolnikovatonce,seemedtobemeaningtogetupandslipawayunobserved.
Raskolnikovatoncepretendednottohaveseenhim,buttobelookingabsent-mindedlyaway,whilehewatchedhimoutofthecornerofhiseye.Hisheartwasbeatingviolently.
Yet,itwasevidentthatSvidrigailovdidnotwanttobeseen.
Hetookthepipeoutofhismouthandwasonthepointofconcealinghimself,butashegotupandmovedbackhischair,heseemedtohavebecomesuddenlyawarethatRaskolnikovhadseenhim,andwaswatchinghim.
WhathadpassedbetweenthemwasmuchthesameaswhathappenedattheirfirstmeetinginRaskolnikov’sroom.
AslysmilecameintoSvidrigailov’sfaceandgrewbroaderandbroader.
Eachknewthathewasseenandwatchedbytheother.
AtlastSvidrigailovbrokeintoaloudlaugh.
“Well,well,comeinifyouwantme;Iamhere!”heshoutedfromthewindow.
Raskolnikovwentupintothetavern.HefoundSvidrigailovinatinybackroom,adjoiningthesalooninwhichmerchants,clerksandnumbersofpeopleofallsortsweredrinkingteaattwentylittletablestothedesperatebawlingofachorusofsingers.
Theclickofbilliardballscouldbeheardinthedistance.
OnthetablebeforeSvidrigailovstoodanopenbottleandaglasshalffullofchampagne.
Intheroomhefoundalsoaboywithalittlehandorgan,ahealthy-lookingred-cheekedgirlofeighteen,wearingatucked-upstripedskirt,andaTyrolesehatwithribbons.
Inspiteofthechorusintheotherroom,shewassingingsomeservants’hallsonginaratherhuskycontralto,totheaccompanimentoftheorgan.
“Come,that’senough,”SvidrigailovstoppedheratRaskolnikov’sentrance.
Thegirlatoncebrokeoffandstoodwaitingrespectfully.
Shehadsunghergutturalrhymes,too,withaseriousandrespectfulexpressioninherface.
“Hey,Philip,aglass!”shoutedSvidrigailov.
“Iwon’tdrinkanything,”saidRaskolnikov.
“Asyoulike,Ididn’tmeanitforyou.Drink,Katia!Idon’twantanythingmoreto-day,youcango.”Hepouredheroutafullglass,andlaiddownayellownote.
Katiadrankoffherglassofwine,aswomendo,withoutputtingitdown,intwentygulps,tookthenoteandkissedSvidrigailov’shand,whichheallowedquiteseriously.
Shewentoutoftheroomandtheboytrailedafterherwiththeorgan.
Bothhadbeenbroughtinfromthestreet.
SvidrigailovhadnotbeenaweekinPetersburg,buteverythingabouthimwasalready,sotospeak,onapatriarchalfooting;thewaiter,Philip,wasbynowanoldfriendandveryobsequious.
Thedoorleadingtothesaloonhadalockonit.Svidrigailovwasathomeinthisroomandperhapsspentwholedaysinit.Thetavernwasdirtyandwretched,notevensecond-rate.
“Iwasgoingtoseeyouandlookingforyou,”Raskolnikovbegan,“butIdon’tknowwhatmademeturnfromtheHayMarketintotheX.Prospectjustnow.Inevertakethisturning.
IturntotherightfromtheHayMarket.Andthisisn’tthewaytoyou.Isimplyturnedandhereyouare.Itisstrange!”
“Whydon’tyousayatonce‘it’samiracle’?”
“Becauseitmaybeonlychance.”
“Oh,that’sthewaywithallyoufolk,”laughedSvidrigailov.
“Youwon’tadmitit,evenifyoudoinwardlybelieveitamiracle!
Hereyousaythatitmaybeonlychance.
Andwhatcowardstheyallarehere,abouthavinganopinionoftheirown,youcan’tfancy,RodionRomanovitch.
Idon’tmeanyou,youhaveanopinionofyourownandarenotafraidtohaveit.
That’showitwasyouattractedmycuriosity.”
“Nothingelse?”
“Well,that’senough,youknow,”Svidrigailovwasobviouslyexhilarated,butonlyslightlyso,hehadnothadmorethanhalfaglassofwine.
“IfancyyoucametoseemebeforeyouknewthatIwascapableofhavingwhatyoucallanopinionofmyown,”observedRaskolnikov.
“Oh,well,itwasadifferentmatter.Everyonehashisownplans.
AndaproposofthemiracleletmetellyouthatIthinkyouhavebeenasleepforthelasttwoorthreedays.
Itoldyouofthistavernmyself,thereisnomiracleinyourcomingstraighthere.
Iexplainedthewaymyself,toldyouwhereitwas,andthehoursyoucouldfindmehere.Doyouremember?”
“Idon’tremember,”answeredRaskolnikovwithsurprise.
“Ibelieveyou.Itoldyoutwice.
Theaddresshasbeenstampedmechanicallyonyourmemory.
Youturnedthiswaymechanicallyandyetpreciselyaccordingtothedirection,thoughyouarenotawareofit.
WhenItoldyouthen,Ihardlyhopedyouunderstoodme.
Yougiveyourselfawaytoomuch,RodionRomanovitch.
Andanotherthing,I’mconvincedtherearelotsofpeopleinPetersburgwhotalktothemselvesastheywalk.Thisisatownofcrazypeople.
Ifonlywehadscientificmen,doctors,lawyersandphilosophersmightmakemostvaluableinvestigationsinPetersburgeachinhisownline.
Therearefewplaceswheretherearesomanygloomy,strongandqueerinfluencesonthesoulofmanasinPetersburg.
Themereinfluencesofclimatemeansomuch.
Andit’stheadministrativecentreofallRussiaanditscharactermustbereflectedonthewholecountry.Butthatisneitherherenortherenow.
ThepointisthatIhaveseveraltimeswatchedyou.
Youwalkoutofyourhouse—holdingyourheadhigh—twentypacesfromhomeyouletitsink,andfoldyourhandsbehindyourback.
Youlookandevidentlyseenothingbeforenorbesideyou.
Atlastyoubeginmovingyourlipsandtalkingtoyourself,andsometimesyouwaveonehandanddeclaim,andatlaststandstillinthemiddleoftheroad.That’snotatallthething.
Someonemaybewatchingyoubesidesme,anditwon’tdoyouanygood.
It’snothingreallytodowithmeandIcan’tcureyou,but,ofcourse,youunderstandme.”
“DoyouknowthatIambeingfollowed?”askedRaskolnikov,lookinginquisitivelyathim.
“No,Iknownothingaboutit,”saidSvidrigailov,seemingsurprised.
“Well,then,letusleavemealone,”Raskolnikovmuttered,frowning.
“Verygood,letusleaveyoualone.”
“Youhadbettertellme,ifyoucomeheretodrink,anddirectedmetwicetocomeheretoyou,whydidyouhide,andtrytogetawayjustnowwhenIlookedatthewindowfromthestreet?Isawit.”
“He-he!Andwhywasityoulayonyoursofawithclosedeyesandpretendedtobeasleep,thoughyouwerewideawakewhileIstoodinyourdoorway?Isawit.”
“Imayhavehad…reasons.Youknowthatyourself.”
“AndImayhavehadmyreasons,thoughyoudon’tknowthem.”
Raskolnikovdroppedhisrightelbowonthetable,leanedhischininthefingersofhisrighthand,andstaredintentlyatSvidrigailov.
Forafullminutehescrutinisedhisface,whichhadimpressedhimbefore.
Itwasastrangeface,likeamask;whiteandred,withbrightredlips,withaflaxenbeard,andstillthickflaxenhair.
Hiseyesweresomehowtooblueandtheirexpressionsomehowtooheavyandfixed.
Therewassomethingawfullyunpleasantinthathandsomeface,whichlookedsowonderfullyyoungforhisage.
Svidrigailovwassmartlydressedinlightsummerclothesandwasparticularlydaintyinhislinen.
Heworeahugeringwithapreciousstoneinit.
“HaveIgottobothermyselfaboutyou,too,now?”
saidRaskolnikovsuddenly,comingwithnervousimpatiencestraighttothepoint.
“Eventhoughperhapsyouarethemostdangerousmanifyoucaretoinjureme,Idon’twanttoputmyselfoutanymore.
IwillshowyouatoncethatIdon’tprizemyselfasyouprobablythinkIdo.
I’vecometotellyouatoncethatifyoukeeptoyourformerintentionswithregardtomysisterandifyouthinktoderiveanybenefitinthatdirectionfromwhathasbeendiscoveredoflate,Iwillkillyoubeforeyougetmelockedup.Youcanreckononmyword.YouknowthatIcankeepit.
Andinthesecondplaceifyouwanttotellmeanything—forIkeepfancyingallthistimethatyouhavesomethingtotellme—makehasteandtellit,fortimeispreciousandverylikelyitwillsoonbetoolate.”
“Whyinsuchhaste?”askedSvidrigailov,lookingathimcuriously.
“Everyonehashisplans,”Raskolnikovansweredgloomilyandimpatiently.
“Youurgedmeyourselftofranknessjustnow,andatthefirstquestionyourefusetoanswer,”Svidrigailovobservedwithasmile.
“YoukeepfancyingthatIhaveaimsofmyownandsoyoulookatmewithsuspicion.
Ofcourseit’sperfectlynaturalinyourposition.
ButthoughIshouldliketobefriendswithyou,Ishan’ttroublemyselftoconvinceyouofthecontrary.
Thegameisn’tworththecandleandIwasn’tintendingtotalktoyouaboutanythingspecial.”
“Whatdidyouwantme,for,then?Itwasyouwhocamehangingaboutme.”
“Why,simplyasaninterestingsubjectforobservation.
Ilikedthefantasticnatureofyourposition—that’swhatitwas!
Besidesyouarethebrotherofapersonwhogreatlyinterestedme,andfromthatpersonIhadinthepastheardaverygreatdealaboutyou,fromwhichIgatheredthatyouhadagreatinfluenceoverher;isn’tthatenough?Ha-ha-ha!
StillImustadmitthatyourquestionisrathercomplex,andisdifficultformetoanswer.
Here,you,forinstance,havecometomenotonlyforadefiniteobject,butforthesakeofhearingsomethingnew.Isn’tthatso?Isn’tthatso?”
persistedSvidrigailovwithaslysmile.
“Well,can’tyoufancythenthatI,too,onmywayhereinthetrainwasreckoningonyou,onyourtellingmesomethingnew,andonmymakingsomeprofitoutofyou!Youseewhatrichmenweare!”
“Whatprofitcouldyoumake?”
“HowcanItellyou?HowdoIknow?
YouseeinwhatatavernIspendallmytimeandit’smyenjoyment,that’stosayit’snogreatenjoyment,butonemustsitsomewhere;thatpoorKatianow—yousawher?
...IfonlyIhadbeenagluttonnow,aclubgourmand,butyouseeIcaneatthis.”
Hepointedtoalittletableinthecornerwheretheremnantsofaterrible-lookingbeef-steakandpotatoeslayonatindish.
“Haveyoudined,bytheway?I’vehadsomethingandwantnothingmore.Idon’tdrink,forinstance,atall.
ExceptforchampagneInevertouchanything,andnotmorethanaglassofthatalltheevening,andeventhatisenoughtomakemyheadache.
Iordereditjustnowtowindmyselfup,forIamjustgoingoffsomewhereandyouseemeinapeculiarstateofmind.
ThatwaswhyIhidmyselfjustnowlikeaschoolboy,forIwasafraidyouwouldhinderme.
ButIbelieve,”hepulledouthiswatch,“Icanspendanhourwithyou.It’shalf-pastfournow.
IfonlyI’dbeensomething,alandowner,afather,acavalryofficer,aphotographer,ajournalist…Iamnothing,nospecialty,andsometimesIampositivelybored.
Ireallythoughtyouwouldtellmesomethingnew.”
“Butwhatareyou,andwhyhaveyoucomehere?”
“WhatamI?Youknow,agentleman,Iservedfortwoyearsinthecavalry,thenIknockedabouthereinPetersburg,thenImarriedMarfaPetrovnaandlivedinthecountry.Thereyouhavemybiography!”
“Youareagambler,Ibelieve?”
“No,apoorsortofgambler.Acard-sharper—notagambler.”
“Youhavebeenacard-sharperthen?”
“Yes,I’vebeenacard-sharpertoo.”
“Didn’tyougetthrashedsometimes?”
“Itdidhappen.Why?”
“Why,youmighthavechallengedthem…altogetheritmusthavebeenlively.”
“Iwon’tcontradictyou,andbesidesIamnohandatphilosophy.IconfessthatIhastenedhereforthesakeofthewomen.”
“AssoonasyouburiedMarfaPetrovna?”
“Quiteso,”Svidrigailovsmiledwithengagingcandour.“Whatofit?Youseemtofindsomethingwronginmyspeakinglikethataboutwomen?”
“YouaskwhetherIfindanythingwronginvice?”
“Vice!Oh,that’swhatyouareafter!
ButI’llansweryouinorder,firstaboutwomeningeneral;youknowIamfondoftalking.
Tellme,whatshouldIrestrainmyselffor?
WhyshouldIgiveupwomen,sinceIhaveapassionforthem?It’sanoccupation,anyway.”
“Soyouhopefornothingherebutvice?”
“Oh,verywell,forvicethen.Youinsistonitsbeingvice.ButanywayIlikeadirectquestion.
Inthisviceatleastthereissomethingpermanent,foundedindeeduponnatureandnotdependentonfantasy,somethingpresentinthebloodlikeanever-burningember,foreversettingoneonfireand,maybe,nottobequicklyextinguished,evenwithyears.
You’llagreeit’sanoccupationofasort.”
“That’snothingtorejoiceat,it’sadiseaseandadangerousone.”
“Oh,that’swhatyouthink,isit!Iagree,thatitisadiseaselikeeverythingthatexceedsmoderation.
And,ofcourse,inthisonemustexceedmoderation.
Butinthefirstplace,everybodydoessoinonewayoranother,andinthesecondplace,ofcourse,oneoughttobemoderateandprudent,howevermeanitmaybe,butwhatamItodo?
IfIhadn’tthis,Imighthavetoshootmyself.
Iamreadytoadmitthatadecentmanoughttoputupwithbeingbored,butyet…”
“Andcouldyoushootyourself?”
“Oh,come!”Svidrigailovparriedwithdisgust.
“Pleasedon’tspeakofit,”headdedhurriedlyandwithnoneofthebraggingtonehehadshowninallthepreviousconversation.Hisfacequitechanged.
“Iadmitit’sanunpardonableweakness,butIcan’thelpit.
IamafraidofdeathandIdislikeitsbeingtalkedof.
DoyouknowthatIamtoacertainextentamystic?”
“Ah,theapparitionsofMarfaPetrovna!Dotheystillgoonvisitingyou?”
“Oh,don’ttalkofthem;therehavebeennomoreinPetersburg,confoundthem!”hecriedwithanairofirritation.
“Let’srathertalkofthat…though…H’m!
Ihavenotmuchtime,andcan’tstaylongwithyou,it’sapity!
Ishouldhavefoundplentytotellyou.”
“What’syourengagement,awoman?”
“Yes,awoman,acasualincident….No,that’snotwhatIwanttotalkof.”
“Andthehideousness,thefilthinessofallyoursurroundings,doesn’tthataffectyou?Haveyoulostthestrengthtostopyourself?”
“Anddoyoupretendtostrength,too?He-he-he!
Yousurprisedmejustnow,RodionRomanovitch,thoughIknewbeforehanditwouldbeso.Youpreachtomeaboutviceand�?sthetics!You—aSchiller,you—anidealist!
Ofcoursethat’sallasitshouldbeanditwouldbesurprisingifitwerenotso,yetitisstrangeinreality….
Ah,whatapityIhavenotime,foryou’reamostinterestingtype!
And,by-the-way,areyoufondofSchiller?Iamawfullyfondofhim.”
“Butwhatabraggartyouare,”Raskolnikovsaidwithsomedisgust.
“Uponmyword,Iamnot,”answeredSvidrigailovlaughing.
“However,Iwon’tdisputeit,letmebeabraggart,whynotbrag,ifithurtsnoone?
IspentsevenyearsinthecountrywithMarfaPetrovna,sonowwhenIcomeacrossanintelligentpersonlikeyou—intelligentandhighlyinteresting—Iamsimplygladtotalkand,besides,I’vedrunkthathalf-glassofchampagneandit’sgonetomyheadalittle.
Andbesides,there’sacertainfactthathaswoundmeuptremendously,butaboutthatI…willkeepquiet.Whereareyouoffto?”heaskedinalarm.
Raskolnikovhadbegungettingup.Hefeltoppressedandstifledand,asitwere,illateaseathavingcomehere.
HefeltconvincedthatSvidrigailovwasthemostworthlessscoundrelonthefaceoftheearth.
“A-ach!Sitdown,stayalittle!”Svidrigailovbegged.“Letthembringyousometea,anyway.
Stayalittle,Iwon’ttalknonsense,aboutmyself,Imean.I’lltellyousomething.
IfyoulikeI’lltellyouhowawomantried‘tosave’me,asyouwouldcallit?
Itwillbeananswertoyourfirstquestionindeed,forthewomanwasyoursister.MayItellyou?Itwillhelptospendthetime.”
“Tellme,butItrustthatyou…”
“Oh,don’tbeuneasy.Besides,eveninaworthlesslowfellowlikeme,AvdotyaRomanovnacanonlyexcitethedeepestrespect.”
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