The Idiot

by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

otherwise ordered! We parted, he to his island,where I am sure he thought of the weeping child who had embraced himso affectionately at parting in Moscow; and I was sent off to the cadetcorps, where I found nothing but roughness and harsh discipline. Alas,my happy days were done!”

  “‘I do not wish to deprive your mother of you, and, therefore, I willnot ask you to go with me,’ he said, the morning of his departure, ‘butI should like to do something for you.’ He was mounting his horse ashe spoke. ‘Write something in my sister’s album for me,’ I said rathertimidly, for he was in a state of great dejection at the moment. Heturned, called for a pen, took the album. ‘How old is your sister?’he asked, holding the pen in his hand. ‘Three years old,’ I said. ‘Ah,_petite fille alors!_’ and he wrote in the album:

  “‘Ne mentez jamais! NAPOLÉON (votre ami sincère).’

  “Such advice, and at such a moment, you must allow, prince, was--”

  “Yes, quite so; very remarkable.”

  “This page of the album, framed in gold, hung on the wall of my sister’sdrawing-room all her life, in the most conspicuous place, till the dayof her death; where it is now, I really don’t know. Heavens! it’s twoo’clock! _How_ I have kept you, prince! It is really most unpardonable ofme.”

  The general rose.

  “Oh, not in the least,” said the prince. “On the contrary, I have beenso much interested, I’m really very much obliged to you.”

  “Prince,” said the general, pressing his hand, and looking at him withflashing eyes, and an expression as though he were under the influenceof a sudden thought which had come upon him with stunning force.“Prince, you are so kind, so simple-minded, that sometimes I reallyfeel sorry for you! I gaze at you with a feeling of real affection. Oh,Heaven bless you! May your life blossom and fructify in love. Mine isover. Forgive me, forgive me!”

  He left the room quickly, covering his face with his hands.

  The prince could not doubt the sincerity of his agitation. Heunderstood, too, that the old man had left the room intoxicated with hisown success. The general belonged to that class of liars, who, in spiteof their transports of lying, invariably suspect that they are notbelieved. On this occasion, when he recovered from his exaltation, hewould probably suspect Muishkin of pitying him, and feel insulted.

  “Have I been acting rightly in allowing him to develop such vastresources of imagination?” the prince asked himself. But his answer wasa fit of violent laughter which lasted ten whole minutes. He tried toreproach himself for the laughing fit, but eventually concluded that heneedn’t do so, since in spite of it he was truly sorry for the old man.The same evening he received a strange letter, short but decided. Thegeneral informed him that they must part for ever; that he was grateful,but that even from him he could not accept “signs of sympathy which werehumiliating to the dignity of a man already miserable enough.”

  When the prince heard that the old man had gone to Nina Alexandrovna,though, he felt almost easy on his account.

  We have seen, however, that the general paid a visit to LizabethaProkofievna and caused trouble there, the final upshot being that hefrightened Mrs. Epanchin, and angered her by bitter hints as to his sonGania.

  He had been turned out in disgrace, eventually, and this was thecause of his bad night and quarrelsome day, which ended in his suddendeparture into the street in a condition approaching insanity, asrecorded before.

  Colia did not understand the position. He tried severity with hisfather, as they stood in the street after the latter had cursed thehousehold, hoping to bring him round that way.

  “Well, where are we to go to now, father?” he asked. “You don’t wantto go to the prince’s; you have quarrelled with Lebedeff; you have nomoney; I never have any; and here we are in the middle of the road, in anice sort of mess.”

  “Better to be of a mess than in a mess! I remember making a jokesomething like that at the mess in eighteen hundred and forty--forty--Iforget. ‘Where is my youth, where is my golden youth?’ Who was it saidthat, Colia?”

  “It was Gogol, in Dead Souls, father,” cried Colia, glancing at him insome alarm.

  “‘Dead Souls,’ yes, of course, dead. When I die, Colia, you must engraveon my tomb:

  “‘Here lies a Dead Soul, Shame pursues me.’

  “Who said that, Colia?”

  “I don’t know, father.”

  “There was no Eropegoff? Eroshka Eropegoff?” he cried, suddenly,stopping in the road in a frenzy. “No Eropegoff! And my own son to sayit! Eropegoff was in the place of a brother to me for eleven months. Ifought a duel for him. He was married afterwards, and then killed on thefield of battle. The bullet struck the cross on my breast and glancedoff straight into his temple. ‘I’ll never forget you,’ he cried, andexpired. I served my country well and honestly, Colia, but shame, shamehas pursued me! You and Nina will come to my grave, Colia; poor Nina,I always used to call her Nina in the old days, and how she loved....Nina, Nina, oh, Nina. What have I ever done to deserve your forgivenessand long-suffering? Oh, Colia, your mother has an angelic spirit, anangelic spirit, Colia!”

  “I know that, father. Look here, dear old father, come back home! Let’sgo back to mother. Look, she ran after us when we came out. What haveyou stopped her for, just as though you didn’t take in what I said? Whyare you crying, father?”

  Poor Colia cried himself, and kissed the old man’s hands

  “You kiss my hands, _mine?_”

  “Yes, yes, yours, yours! What is there to surprise anyone in that? Come,come, you mustn’t go on like this, crying in the middle of the road; andyou a general too, a military man! Come, let’s go back.”

  “God bless you, dear boy, for being respectful to a disgraced man. Yes,to a poor disgraced old fellow, your father. You shall have such a sonyourself; le roi de Rome. Oh, curses on this house!”

  “Come, come, what does all this mean?” cried Colia beside himself atlast. “What is it? What has happened to you? Why don’t you wish to comeback home? Why have you gone out of your mind, like this?”

  “I’ll explain it, I’ll explain all to you. Don’t shout! You shall hear.Le roi de Rome. Oh, I am sad, I am melancholy!

  “‘Nurse, where is your tomb?’

  “Who said that, Colia?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know who said it. Come home at once; come on!I’ll punch Gania’s head myself, if you like--only come. Oh, where _are_you off to again?” The general was dragging him away towards the door ofa house nearby. He sat down on the step, still holding Colia by the hand.

  “Bend down--bend down your ear. I’ll tell you all--disgrace--bend down,I’ll tell you in your ear.”

  “What are you dreaming of?” said poor, frightened Colia, stooping downtowards the old man, all the same.

  “Le roi de Rome,” whispered the general, trembling all over.

  “What? What _do_ you mean? What roi de Rome?”

  “I--I,” the general continued to whisper, clinging more and moretightly to the boy’s shoulder. “I--wish--to tell you--all--Maria--MariaPetrovna--Su--Su--Su.......”

  Colia broke loose, seized his father by the shoulders, and stared intohis eyes with frenzied gaze. The old man had grown livid--his lips wereshaking, convulsions were passing over his features. Suddenly he leantover and began to sink slowly into Colia’s arms.

  “He’s got a stroke!” cried Colia, loudly, realizing what was the matterat last.

  V.

  In point of fact, Varia had rather exaggerated the certainty of hernews as to the prince’s betrothal to Aglaya. Very likely, with theperspicacity of her sex, she gave out as an accomplished fact what shefelt was pretty sure to become a fact in a few days. Perhaps she couldnot resist the satisfaction of pouring one last drop of bitterness intoher brother Gania’s cup, in spite of her love for him. At all events,she had been unable to obtain any definite news from the Epanchingirls--the most she could get out of them being hints and surmises, andso on. Perhaps Aglaya’s sisters had merely been pumping V
aria for newswhile pretending to impart information; or perhaps, again, they had beenunable to resist the feminine gratification of teasing a friend--for,after all this time, they could scarcely have helped divining the aim ofher frequent visits.

  On the other hand, the prince, although he had told Lebedeff,--as weknow, that nothing had happened, and that he had nothing to impart,--theprince may have been in error. Something strange seemed to havehappened, without anything definite having actually happened. Varia hadguessed that with her true feminine instinct.

  How or why it came about that everyone at the Epanchins’ became imbuedwith one conviction--that something very important had happened toAglaya, and that her fate was in process of settlement--it would be verydifficult to explain. But no sooner had this idea taken root, than allat once declared that they had seen and observed it long ago; that theyhad remarked it at the time of the “poor knight” joke, and even before,though they had been unwilling to believe in such nonsense.

  So said the sisters. Of course, Lizabetha Prokofievna had foreseen itlong before the rest; her “heart had been sore” for a long while,she declared, and it