madeinquiries and found that Rogojin himself could not possibly have comein, because all our doors were locked for the night.
“Well, this strange circumstance--which I have described with somuch detail--was the ultimate cause which led me to taking my finaldetermination. So that no logic, or logical deductions, had anything todo with my resolve;--it was simply a matter of disgust.
“It was impossible for me to go on living when life was full of suchdetestable, strange, tormenting forms. This ghost had humiliatedme;--nor could I bear to be subordinate to that dark, horrible forcewhich was embodied in the form of the loathsome insect. It was onlytowards evening, when I had quite made up my mind on this point, that Ibegan to feel easier.”
VII.
“I had a small pocket pistol. I had procured it while still a boy, atthat droll age when the stories of duels and highwaymen begin to delightone, and when one imagines oneself nobly standing fire at some futureday, in a duel.
“There were a couple of old bullets in the bag which contained thepistol, and powder enough in an old flask for two or three charges.
“The pistol was a wretched thing, very crooked and wouldn’t carryfarther than fifteen paces at the most. However, it would send yourskull flying well enough if you pressed the muzzle of it against yourtemple.
“I determined to die at Pavlofsk at sunrise, in the park--so as to makeno commotion in the house.
“This ‘explanation’ will make the matter clear enough to the police.Students of psychology, and anyone else who likes, may make what theyplease of it. I should not like this paper, however, to be made public.I request the prince to keep a copy himself, and to give a copy toAglaya Ivanovna Epanchin. This is my last will and testament. As formy skeleton, I bequeath it to the Medical Academy for the benefit ofscience.
“I recognize no jurisdiction over myself, and I know that I am nowbeyond the power of laws and judges.
“A little while ago a very amusing idea struck me. What if I were now tocommit some terrible crime--murder ten fellow-creatures, for instance,or anything else that is thought most shocking and dreadful in thisworld--what a dilemma my judges would be in, with a criminal who onlyhas a fortnight to live in any case, now that the rack and other formsof torture are abolished! Why, I should die comfortably in their ownhospital--in a warm, clean room, with an attentive doctor--probably muchmore comfortably than I should at home.
“I don’t understand why people in my position do not oftener indulge insuch ideas--if only for a joke! Perhaps they do! Who knows! There areplenty of merry souls among us!
“But though I do not recognize any jurisdiction over myself, still Iknow that I shall be judged, when I am nothing but a voiceless lumpof clay; therefore I do not wish to go before I have left a word ofreply--the reply of a free man--not one forced to justify himself--ohno! I have no need to ask forgiveness of anyone. I wish to say a wordmerely because I happen to desire it of my own free will.
“Here, in the first place, comes a strange thought!
“Who, in the name of what Law, would think of disputing my full personalright over the fortnight of life left to me? What jurisdiction canbe brought to bear upon the case? Who would wish me, not only to besentenced, but to endure the sentence to the end? Surely there existsno man who would wish such a thing--why should anyone desire it? Forthe sake of morality? Well, I can understand that if I were to makean attempt upon my own life while in the enjoyment of full health andvigour--my life which might have been ‘useful,’ etc., etc.--moralitymight reproach me, according to the old routine, for disposing of mylife without permission--or whatever its tenet may be. But now, _now_,when my sentence is out and my days numbered! How can morality have needof my last breaths, and why should I die listening to the consolationsoffered by the prince, who, without doubt, would not omit to demonstratethat death is actually a benefactor to me? (Christians like him alwaysend up with that--it is their pet theory.) And what do they want withtheir ridiculous ‘Pavlofsk trees’? To sweeten my last hours? Cannot theyunderstand that the more I forget myself, the more I let myself becomeattached to these last illusions of life and love, by means of whichthey try to hide from me Meyer’s wall, and all that is so plainlywritten on it--the more unhappy they make me? What is the use of allyour nature to me--all your parks and trees, your sunsets and sunrises,your blue skies and your self-satisfied faces--when all this wealthof beauty and happiness begins with the fact that it accounts me--onlyme--one too many! What is the good of all this beauty and glory to me,when every second, every moment, I cannot but be aware that this littlefly which buzzes around my head in the sun’s rays--even this little flyis a sharer and participator in all the glory of the universe, and knowsits place and is happy in it;--while I--only I, am an outcast, and havebeen blind to the fact hitherto, thanks to my simplicity! Oh! I knowwell how the prince and others would like me, instead of indulging inall these wicked words of my own, to sing, to the glory and triumph ofmorality, that well-known verse of Gilbert’s:
“‘O, puissent voir longtemps votre beauté sacrée Tant d’amis, sourds à mes adieux! Qu’ils meurent pleins de jours, que leur mort soit pleurée, Qu’un ami leur ferme les yeux!’
“But believe me, believe me, my simple-hearted friends, that in thishighly moral verse, in this academical blessing to the world in generalin the French language, is hidden the intensest gall and bitterness;but so well concealed is the venom, that I dare say the poet actuallypersuaded himself that his words were full of the tears of pardon andpeace, instead of the bitterness of disappointment and malice, and sodied in the delusion.
“Do you know there is a limit of ignominy, beyond which man’sconsciousness of shame cannot go, and after which begins satisfaction inshame? Well, of course humility is a great force in that sense, I admitthat--though not in the sense in which religion accounts humility to bestrength!
“Religion!--I admit eternal life--and perhaps I always did admit it.
“Admitted that consciousness is called into existence by the will of aHigher Power; admitted that this consciousness looks out upon the worldand says ‘I am;’ and admitted that the Higher Power wills that theconsciousness so called into existence, be suddenly extinguished (forso--for some unexplained reason--it is and must be)--still there comesthe eternal question--why must I be humble through all this? Is it notenough that I am devoured, without my being expected to bless thepower that devours me? Surely--surely I need not suppose thatSomebody--there--will be offended because I do not wish to live out thefortnight allowed me? I don’t believe it.
“It is much simpler, and far more likely, to believe that my deathis needed--the death of an insignificant atom--in order to fulfil thegeneral harmony of the universe--in order to make even some plus orminus in the sum of existence. Just as every day the death of numbers ofbeings is necessary because without their annihilation the rest cannotlive on--(although we must admit that the idea is not a particularlygrand one in itself!)
“However--admit the fact! Admit that without such perpetual devouring ofone another the world cannot continue to exist, or could never have beenorganized--I am ever ready to confess that I cannot understand why thisis so--but I’ll tell you what I _do_ know, for certain. If I have oncebeen given to understand and realize that I _am_--what does it matterto me that the world is organized on a system full of errors and thatotherwise it cannot be organized at all? Who will or can judge me afterthis? Say what you like--the thing is impossible and unjust!
“And meanwhile I have never been able, in spite of my great desire todo so, to persuade myself that there is no future existence, and noProvidence.
“The fact of the matter is that all this _does_ exist, but that we knowabsolutely nothing about the future life and its laws!
“But it is so difficult, and even impossible to understand, that surelyI am not to be blamed because I could not fathom the incomprehensible?
“Of course I know they say that one must be obedient, and of course,too, the prince is one of those who say
so: that one must be obedientwithout questions, out of pure goodness of heart, and that for my worthyconduct in this matter I shall meet with reward in another world. Wedegrade God when we attribute our own ideas to Him, out of annoyancethat we cannot fathom His ways.
“Again, I repeat, I cannot be blamed because I am unable to understandthat which it is not given to mankind to fathom. Why am I to be judgedbecause I could not comprehend the Will and Laws of Providence? No, wehad better drop religion.
“And enough of this. By the time I have got so far in the reading ofmy document the sun will be up and the huge force of his rays will beacting upon the living world. So be it. I shall die gazing straight atthe great Fountain of life and power; I do not want this life!
“If I had had the power to prevent my own birth I should certainly neverhave consented to accept existence under such ridiculous conditions.However, I have the power to end my existence, although I do but giveback days that are already numbered. It is an insignificant gift, and myrevolt is equally insignificant.
“Final explanation: I die, not in the least because I am unable tosupport these next three weeks. Oh no, I should find strength enough,and if I wished it I could obtain consolation from the thought of theinjury that is done me. But I am not a French poet, and I do not desiresuch consolation. And finally, nature has so limited my capacity forwork or activity of any kind, in allotting me but three weeks of time,that suicide is about the only thing left that I can begin and end inthe time of my own free will.
“Perhaps then I am anxious to take advantage of my last chance of doingsomething for myself. A protest is sometimes no small thing.”
The explanation was finished; Hippolyte paused at last.
There is, in extreme cases, a final stage of cynical candour when anervous man, excited, and beside himself with emotion, will be afraidof nothing and ready for any sort of scandal, nay, glad of it. Theextraordinary, almost unnatural, tension of the nerves which upheldHippolyte up to this point, had now arrived at this final stage. Thispoor feeble boy of eighteen--exhausted by disease--looked for all theworld as weak and frail as a leaflet torn from its parent tree andtrembling in the breeze; but no sooner had his eye swept over hisaudience, for the first time during the whole of the last hour, than themost contemptuous, the most haughty expression of repugnance lightedup his face. He defied them all, as it were. But his hearers wereindignant, too; they rose to their feet with annoyance. Fatigue,the wine consumed, the strain of listening so long, all added to thedisagreeable impression which the reading had made upon them.
Suddenly Hippolyte jumped up as though he had been shot.
“The sun is rising,” he cried, seeing the gilded tops of the trees, andpointing to them as to a miracle. “See, it is rising now!”
“Well, what then? Did you suppose it wasn’t going to rise?” askedFerdishenko.
“It’s going to be atrociously hot again all day,” said Gania, with anair of annoyance, taking his hat. “A month of this... Are you cominghome, Ptitsin?” Hippolyte listened to this in amazement, almostamounting to stupefaction. Suddenly he became deadly pale and shuddered.
“You manage your composure too awkwardly. I see you wish to insult me,” he cried to Gania. “You--you are a cur!” He looked at Gania with anexpression of malice.
“What on earth is the matter with the boy? What phenomenalfeeble-mindedness!” exclaimed Ferdishenko.
“Oh, he’s simply a fool,” said Gania.
Hippolyte braced himself up a little.
“I understand, gentlemen,” he began, trembling as before, and stumblingover every word, “that I have deserved your resentment, and--andam sorry that I should have troubled you with this raving nonsense” (pointing to his article), “or rather, I am sorry that I have nottroubled you enough.” He smiled feebly. “Have I troubled you, EvgeniePavlovitch?” He suddenly turned on Evgenie with this question. “Tell menow, have I troubled you or not?”
“Well, it was a little drawn out, perhaps; but--”
“Come, speak out! Don’t lie, for once in your life--speak out!” continued Hippolyte, quivering with agitation.
“Oh, my good sir, I assure you it’s entirely the same to me. Pleaseleave me in peace,” said Evgenie, angrily, turning his back on him.
“Good-night, prince,” said Ptitsin, approaching his host.
“What are you thinking of? Don’t go, he’ll blow his brains out in aminute!” cried Vera Lebedeff, rushing up to Hippolyte and catching holdof his hands in a torment of alarm. “What are you thinking of? He saidhe would blow his brains out at sunrise.”
“Oh, he won’t shoot himself!” cried several voices, sarcastically.
“Gentlemen, you’d better look out,” cried Colia, also seizing Hippolyteby the hand. “Just look at him! Prince, what are you thinking of?” Veraand Colia, and Keller, and Burdovsky were all crowding round Hippolytenow and holding him down.
“He has the right--the right--” murmured Burdovsky. “Excuse me, prince,but what are your arrangements?” asked Lebedeff, tipsy and exasperated,going up to Muishkin.
“What do you mean by ‘arrangements’?”
“No, no, excuse me! I’m master of this house, though I do not wish tolack respect towards you. You are master of the house too, in a way; butI can’t allow this sort of thing--”
“He won’t shoot himself; the boy is only playing the fool,” said GeneralIvolgin, suddenly and unexpectedly, with indignation.
“I know he won’t, I know he won’t, general; but I--I’m master here!”
“Listen, Mr. Terentieff,” said Ptitsin, who had bidden the princegood-night, and was now holding out his hand to Hippolyte; “I think youremark in that manuscript of yours, that you bequeath your skeleton tothe Academy. Are you referring to your own skeleton--I mean, your verybones?”
“Yes, my bones, I--”
“Quite so, I see; because, you know, little mistakes have occurred nowand then. There was a case--”
“Why do you tease him?” cried the prince, suddenly.
“You’ve moved him to tears,” added Ferdishenko. But Hippolyte was by nomeans weeping. He was about to move from his place, when his four guardsrushed at him and seized him once more. There was a laugh at this.
“He led up to this on purpose. He took the trouble of writing all thatso that people should come and grab him by the arm,” observed Rogojin.“Good-night, prince. What a time we’ve sat here, my very bones ache!”
“If you really intended to shoot yourself, Terentieff,” said EvgeniePavlovitch, laughing, “if I were you, after all these compliments, Ishould just not shoot myself in order to vex them all.”
“They are very anxious to see me blow my brains out,” said Hippolyte,bitterly.
“Yes, they’ll be awfully annoyed if they don’t see it.”
“Then you think they won’t see it?”
“I am not trying to egg you on. On the contrary, I think it very likelythat you may shoot yourself; but the principal thing is to keep cool,” said Evgenie with a drawl, and with great condescension.
“I only now perceive what a terrible mistake I made in reading thisarticle to them,” said Hippolyte, suddenly, addressing Evgenie, andlooking at him with an expression of trust and confidence, as though hewere applying to a friend for counsel.
“Yes, it’s a droll situation; I really don’t know what advice to giveyou,” replied Evgenie, laughing. Hippolyte gazed steadfastly at him,but said nothing. To look at him one might have supposed that he wasunconscious at intervals.
“Excuse me,” said Lebedeff, “but did you observe the young gentleman’sstyle? ‘I’ll go and blow my brains out in the park,’ says he, ‘so as notto disturb anyone.’ He thinks he won’t disturb anybody if he goes threeyards away, into the park, and blows his brains out there.”
“Gentlemen--” began the prince.
“No, no, excuse me, most revered prince,” Lebedeff interrupted,excitedly. “Since you must have observed yourself that this is no joke,and since a
t least half your guests must also have concluded that afterall that has been said this youth _must_ blow his brains out for honour’ssake--I--as master of this house, and before these witnesses, now callupon you to take steps.”
“Yes, but what am I to do, Lebedeff? What steps am I to take? I amready.”
“I’ll tell you. In the first place he must immediately deliver up thepistol which he boasted of, with all its appurtenances. If he doesthis I shall consent to his being allowed to spend the night inthis house--considering his feeble state of health, and of courseconditionally upon his being under proper supervision. But tomorrow hemust go elsewhere. Excuse me, prince! Should he refuse to deliver up hisweapon, then I shall instantly seize one of his arms and General Ivolginthe other, and we shall hold him until the police arrive and take thematter into their own hands. Mr. Ferdishenko will kindly fetch them.”
At this there was a dreadful noise; Lebedeff danced about in hisexcitement; Ferdishenko prepared to go for the police; Gania franticallyinsisted that it was all nonsense, “for nobody was going to shootthemselves.” Evgenie Pavlovitch said nothing.
“Prince,” whispered Hippolyte, suddenly, his eyes all ablaze, “you don’tsuppose that I did not foresee all this hatred?” He looked at the princeas though he expected him to reply, for a moment. “Enough!” he added atlength, and addressing the whole company, he cried: “It’s all my fault,gentlemen! Lebedeff, here’s the key,” (he took out a small bunch ofkeys); “this one, the last but one--Colia will show you--Colia, where’sColia?” he cried, looking straight at Colia and not seeing him. “Yes,he’ll show you; he packed the bag with me this morning. Take him up,Colia; my bag is upstairs in the prince’s study, under the table. Here’sthe key, and in the little case you’ll find my pistol and the powder,and all. Colia packed it himself, Mr. Lebedeff; he’ll show you; but it’son condition that tomorrow morning, when I leave for Petersburg, youwill give me back my pistol, do you hear? I do this for the prince’ssake, not yours.”
“Capital, that’s much better!” cried Lebedeff, and seizing the key hemade off in haste.
Colia stopped a moment as though he wished to say something; butLebedeff
The Idiot Page 90