Humiliated and Insulted

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

  I ascended the stairs with some strange premonition, opened the door and – there was the Prince. He was sitting at the table and reading my novel. At least, the book was open.

  “Ivan Petrovich!” he exclaimed joyfully. “I’m so glad you have returned at last. I was just about to give up. I’ve been waiting for you over an hour. I promised the Countess today, who was most insistent and persuasive, that I should bring you to see her tonight. She’s so anxious to make your acquaintance! Since you had already promised me, I decided to call on you personally, without delay, before you went out, and invite you along. You can imagine my disappointment when on arrival your servant girl informed me that you had already gone out. What was I to do? I had given a solemn promise to bring you with me, and so sat down to wait – it was going to be just a quarter of an hour. It turned into a long quarter of an hour though! I opened your book and became engrossed. Ivan Petrovich! This is a masterpiece! You have not been appreciated enough! You have moved me to tears. I cried over this, and it is not often I cry…”

  “So you want me to come with you? I have to admit though… it’s not that I’m unwilling, but…”

  “I beg you in all earnestness, come along! You’ll do me an injustice otherwise! You know, I’ve been waiting for you an hour and a half!… Besides, I need, I really need to talk to you – you do know what it’s about, don’t you? You know the ins and outs of the case better than I… Perhaps we may come to some decision, find a solution. Please, think about it! I beg you not to refuse!”

  I sized up the situation and realized that I would have to go there sooner or later. True enough, Natasha was on her own now and needed me, but did she herself not ask me to get to know Katya as soon as possible? Besides, Alyosha himself might well be there… I knew that Natasha would not rest till I brought her news of Katya, and I decided to go. But I was worried about Nelly.

  “Please excuse me for a moment,” I said to the Prince and went out on the landing. Nelly was standing close by in a dark corner.

  “Why don’t you want to come in, Nelly? What has he done to you? What has he been saying to you?”

  “Nothing… I don’t want to, I don’t want to…” she kept repeating. “I’m frightened…”

  No matter how hard I tried to persuade her, it was to no avail. We managed to agree that as soon as the Prince and I had left, she would go into the room and lock the door behind her.

  “And don’t let anyone in, Nelly, no matter how much they might ask you!”

  “And are you going with him?”

  “Yes.”

  She shuddered and grabbed my hand, as though wishing to dissuade me from going, but did not say a word. I decided I would question her more closely about it the next day.

  Having apologized to the Prince, I started to get ready. He began to assure me that there was no need to get changed or spruce up at all. “Perhaps something bright and fresh!” he remarked, looking me up and down critically. “You know these social conventions… one cannot of course ignore them altogether. It’ll be a good while yet before our society reaches that peak of perfection,” he concluded, pleased to see that I had a tailcoat.

  We went out. But I left him on the stairs and went back to the room, which Nelly had already managed to slip into, to say goodbye to her again She was terribly agitated. Her face had turned blue. I was worried about her; it was hard for me to leave her.

  “She’s strange that servant girl of yours,” the Prince said as we descended the stairs. “I take it she is your servant?”

  “No… she… she is just staying with me for the time being.”

  “Extraordinary girl! I’m sure she’s quite demented. Imagine, she spoke to me normally at first, but later, having looked me over, rushed towards me crying out something, shaking all over, dug her fingers into me… tried to say something, but couldn’t. I’ll be honest with you, I felt a little uneasy and had a good mind to take to my heels but, thank God, she left me first. I was astonished. How can you put up with her?”

  “She’s epileptic,” I replied.

  “Is that so? Well, it’s not surprising then… if she has fits.”

  Something immediately aroused my suspicions: Masloboyev’s visit the previous day even though he knew I would be out; my visit to Masloboyev that morning; his invitation to me for seven o’clock; the story he told me reluctantly in an inebriated state; his attempts at persuading me to trust him; and finally, the Prince waiting for me an hour and a half perhaps in the full knowledge that I was at Masloboyev’s, with Nelly dashing away from him into the street – all this was somehow interconnected. There was indeed much to ponder over.

  His calash was waiting outside by the gate. We got in and drove off.

  8

  It was not far, only as far as the Torgovy Bridge. For the first few minutes we were silent. I wondered how he would start the conversation. I suspected he would want to probe me, try me, sound me out, but instead, without any preamble, he went straight to the point.

  “There’s something which bothers me now a great deal, Ivan Petrovich,” he began, “something I’d like to discuss with you as a matter of priority and pick your brains – I’ve long since decided to ignore the court’s decision in the case I won and to let Ikhmenev have the disputed ten thousand roubles. How am I to do it?”

  The thought immediately flashed through my mind: “Surely you must know what to do, unless you’re just pulling my leg!”

  “I don’t know, Prince,” I replied, trying to sound as non-committal as possible, “in anything else, namely in whatever concerns Natalya Nikolayevna, I would be quite ready to help you with any information likely to be of use both to you and to us, but in this particular matter you yourself of course know more than I do.”

  “No, not at all, much less in fact. You know them, and perhaps Natalya Nikolayevna herself has spoken to you on the matter on a number of occasions, and that for me would be the main consideration. You can help me a great deal – the matter is extremely awkward. I’m prepared to let him have the money – as a matter of fact, I’ve made up my mind to do so however subsequent events might turn out, you understand? But how, in what guise do I present my concession, that is the question. The old man is proud and stubborn. He might well spurn my generosity and throw the money back in my face.”

  “I beg your pardon, but do you consider the money to be his or yours?”

  “I won the case, consequently, mine.”

  “But morally?”

  “Of course, mine,” he replied, somewhat taken aback by my bluntness. “But it looks to me as though you don’t quite realize what’s entailed. I’m not accusing Ikhmenev of premeditated deception and, let me make it clear to you, never did. He brought the trouble upon his own head. He was guilty of negligence, of mismanaging the business entrusted to him and, according to our original agreement, was answerable for some of this. But, do you know, it’s not even a question of that – it’s our quarrel that is at the bottom of everything, the mutual insults we traded, in a word – our wounded self-esteem. I might easily have ignored that wretched ten thousand roubles, but of course you know how and why the whole of this matter originated. I agree, I was mistrustful, I was perhaps wrong (wrong at the time, that is), but I didn’t realize it and, in a moment of desperation, smarting from his insults, I took the opportunity and instituted proceedings. All this may strike you as perhaps not quite honourable on my part. I’m not justifying myself – all I’ll say is that anger and, above all, disaffected pride ought not to be confused with lack of honour, they are quite natural, human traits. And, I confess and repeat, having practically no idea what sort of a man Ikhmenev was, I took on trust all those rumours about his daughter and Alyosha, and consequently could easily have believed in the premeditated theft of the money… but never mind all that. The most important thing is what to do now? To turn the money down? But if I say in the same breath that I still con
sider my case to have been justified, I’m making him a gift of it. On top of that there’s also Natalya Nikolayevna’s delicate position to consider… He’s bound to fling the money back in my face.”

  “There you are, you said it yourself: fling – consequently you regard him as an honest man and can therefore be quite sure he did not steal your money. And if so, why not just go to him and declare openly that you consider your case was invalid? That would be an honourable act, and Ikhmenev would perhaps not find it difficult to take his own money.”

  “Hm… his own money – there’s the rub. What are you doing to me? To go to him and explain that I consider my case was invalid? So why then did you sue if you knew you had no case to answer? That’s what everyone will say to my face. And it would be unfair, because my case was valid. I never said nor wrote anywhere that he stole. But of his carelessness, lack of judgement and bad management I’m still convinced to this day. This money is unquestionably mine, and therefore it hurts to be putting myself deliberately in the wrong and, finally, Ikhmenev, I repeat, brought it all upon himself, and you’re now urging me to seek his pardon for his own misdeeds – that’s hard.”

  “It seems to me if two people want to make peace, then…”

  “Then it’s easily done, you think?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, sometimes not at all, the more so since—”

  “The more so since it’s bound up with other considerations. In this I fully agree with you, Prince. You must resolve the relationship between Natalya Nikolayevna and your son in all matters for which you are responsible, and resolve it to the full satisfaction of the Ikhmenevs. Only then will you also be able to settle equitably the question of the lawsuit with Ikhmenev. Whereas now, while everything is still up in the air, you have only one course – to own up to the unfairness of your action, and to own up openly and, if necessary, publicly. That’s my opinion. I’m being honest with you, because you yourself asked me what I thought and would surely not wish me to dissemble. This, as it happens, emboldens me to ask you something – why are you so bothered about returning the money to Ikhmenev? If you consider right to be on your side, why give it back? Pardon my curiosity, but this is very much bound up with other considerations—”

  “But what do you think,” he suddenly asked me, as though he had not even heard my question at all, “are you sure old Ikhmenev would turn down the ten thousand, even if it was handed to him without any preambles and… and… and without any conciliatory remarks?”

  “Of course, he would!”

  I was scarcely able to contain myself and even shook with indignation. This brazenly sceptical question was tantamount to the Prince spitting in my face. One offence was compounded by another – by the discourteous, supercilious manner with which, without replying to my question and as though not deigning to notice it, he overrode it with one of his own, apparently indicating that I had overreached myself and had become excessively familiar in venturing to pose such questions. I simply loathed the arrogance of it all, and in the past had gone out of my way to dissuade Alyosha from resorting to such tactics.

  “Hm… you’re too impulsive, and some things in this world do not unravel quite as you expect them to,” the Prince observed calmly in response to my outburst. “If you ask me, I think Natalya Nikolayevna could well come up with a solution to this problem. Mention it to her. She could well have some sound advice to offer.”

  “Not on your life,” I replied brusquely. “You did not deign to listen to what I was about to say and interrupted me. Natalya Nikolayevna will understand that if you return the money in bad faith and without, as you call it, conciliatory remarks, it would mean you’re paying her father for his daughter, and her for Alyosha – in a word, you’re resorting to bribery…”

  “Hm… is this how you see it, my kind Ivan Petrovich.” The Prince burst out laughing. Why did he laugh? “And yet,” he continued, “there’s still so much, so much the two of us have to discuss. But we haven’t the time now. All I’ll ask you is to appreciate one thing – this matter concerns directly Natalya Nikolayevna and her entire future, and to some extent it all depends on what understanding the two of us will reach and what conclusions we come to. You are indispensable in this matter – you’ll see for yourself. And therefore, if you have Natalya Nikolayevna’s best interests at heart, you cannot refuse to communicate with me, however little sympathy you might have for me. But we’ve arrived… A bientôt!”*

  9

  The countess lived in splendid style. The rooms were tastefully decorated and well appointed, without being ostentatious. There prevailed, however, an overall air of temporary sojourn; it was merely a comfortable residence to meet the needs of the moment rather than the permanent, established home of a wealthy family displaying the characteristics of the landed gentry with all their whims attended to. Rumour had it that the Countess was to retire for the summer to her estate (bankrupt and remortgaged) in the Simbirsk district, and that the Prince was to accompany her. I had already heard about this and it was painful for me to think what Alyosha might do after Katya had left with the Countess. I was too afraid to raise this with Natasha, but, judging by certain indications, I could see she too was aware of this rumour. However, she said nothing and suffered in silence.

  The Countess greeted me most affably; she shook my hand warmly and confirmed that she had been wishing to make my acquaintance for some time now. She herself poured the tea from a splendid silver samovar, round which we all sat – the Prince, I and a certain very upper-crust gentleman, advanced in years and somewhat starched in appearance, with the polished manners of a diplomat, sporting a medal in the shape of a star. This guest was treated very deferentially. The Countess on her return from abroad had not yet had time during the winter season to establish any important contacts in St Petersburg society or to secure for herself the sort of position which she desired and expected. Apart from this gentleman there were no other visitors during the course of the entire evening. I glanced round in search of Katerina Fyodorovna; she was in another room with Alyosha, but on hearing that we had arrived, she immediately came to join us. The Prince kissed her hand courteously, and the Countess drew her attention to me. The Prince immediately introduced us. I studied her with rapt attention. She was a sweet, fair-haired girl, dressed in white, petite, with calm and composed features, striking blue eyes and, as Alyosha had said, in the bloom of youth – but that’s all. I had expected to find a stunning beauty, but that she certainly was not. A regular, softly defined oval-shaped face, fairly regular features, thick, truly wonderful hair done in a homely unpretentious style, a calm steady look in her eyes – if I’d met her somewhere I’d have walked straight past without a second glance – but this was only after my initial impression and later that evening I managed to gain a deeper insight into her. The very manner in which she shook my hand while continuing to gaze into my eyes with a kind of intense concentration, without uttering a word, caught me completely unawares by its ingenuousness, and I could not suppress a smile. I sensed immediately that I was faced with a creature pure of heart. The Countess was observing her intently. After shaking my hand, Katya drew back somewhat hastily and sat down at the other end of the room next to Alyosha. On greeting me, Alyosha said in a whisper, “I’m here only for a minute, after that I’m leaving.”

  The “diplomat” – I don’t know his name, and I’m calling him that merely for want of something better – spoke calmly and weightily, expounding some idea of his. The Countess listened to him attentively. The Prince nodded with approval and smiled ingratiatingly; the speaker often turned to him, apparently recognizing in him a worthy listener. I was given a cup of tea and left to my own devices, for which I was very grateful. In the meantime I kept an attentive eye on the Countess. At first impression, in spite of myself, I couldn’t help liking her. Perhaps she was no longer in the first flush of youth, but to me she did not look a day older than twenty-eight. Her complexion
was still fresh and, in days gone by, in her early youth, she must have been truly beautiful. Her dark auburn hair was still quite thick; the look in her eyes was extraordinarily kind, but somehow provocatively playful and roguishly derisive. For the present she seemed to hold herself in check for some reason. Her expression conveyed a keen intelligence, but most of all kindness and joy. It seemed to me that her dominant characteristic was a certain frivolity, a yearning for pleasure, and there was an aura of innocuous selfishness about her, which might perhaps have been not so innocuous after all. She was in thrall to the Prince, who exerted an extraordinary influence on her. I knew they maintained a liaison; I had heard also that he was a not altogether jealous lover during their stay abroad, but it always seemed to me then – as indeed it still does – that they were bound to each other not merely by ties from the past, but that there was something else, something rather mysterious, something like a covenant between them, based on some mutual scheme – in a word, there must have been something of the kind. I knew also that at that particular time the Prince was weary of her; nonetheless they would not sever their relationship. Perhaps at the time they were both particularly caught up in their designs on Katya, which of course were initiated by the Prince. It was on this basis that the Prince had managed to avoid marrying the Countess, who had really pressed him to do so, and had instead persuaded her to support the proposed marriage between her stepdaughter and Alyosha. That, at least, was what I surmised from Alyosha’s earlier naive accounts, something that hadn’t escaped even his notice. I was also very much aware, partly from the same source, that the Prince had, despite the fact that the Countess was totally under his sway, some reason for being afraid of her. Even Alyosha had noted this. I subsequently learnt that the Prince was eager for the Countess to marry someone else and it was partly for this reason that he was dispatching her to the Simbirsk district, hoping to match her up with someone eligible in the provinces.