The Idiot (Vintage Classics)

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

  He did not dare to finish what he was going to say.

  “No, no, no!” Lebedev began whispering to him with a terribly frightened look; it was clear that he was frightened by the enormity of the sum and had suggested starting with incomparably less.

  “No, brother, in this you’re a fool, you don’t know where you’ve got to … and I, too, must be a fool along with you!” Rogozhin caught himself and gave a sudden start under the flashing eyes of Nastasya Filippovna. “Ehh! I fouled it up, listening to you,” he added with profound regret.

  Nastasya Filippovna, peering into Rogozhin’s overturned face, suddenly laughed.

  “Eighteen thousand, for me? You can tell a boor at once!” she added suddenly, with brazen familiarity, and got up from the sofa as if preparing to leave. Ganya watched the whole scene with a sinking heart.

  “Forty thousand then, forty, not eighteen!” cried Rogozhin. “Vanka Ptitsyn and Biskup promised to produce forty thousand by seven o’clock. Forty thousand! All on the table.”

  The scene was becoming extremely ugly, but Nastasya Filippovna went on laughing and did not go away, as if she were intentionally drawing it out. Nina Alexandrovna and Varya also got up from their places and waited fearfully, silently, for what it would lead to; Varya’s eyes flashed, but Nina Alexandrovna was morbidly affected; she trembled and seemed about to faint.

  “In that case—a hundred! Today I’ll produce a hundred thousand! Ptitsyn, help me out, you’ll line your own pockets!”

  “You’re out of your mind!” Ptitsyn suddenly whispered, going up to him quickly and seizing him by the arm. “You’re drunk, they’ll send for the police. Do you know where you are?”

  “Drunken lies,” Nastasya Filippovna said, as if taunting him.

  “I’m not lying, I’ll have it! By evening I’ll have it. Ptitsyn, help me out, you percentage soul, charge whatever you like, get me a hundred thousand by evening: I tell you, I won’t stint!” Rogozhin’s animation suddenly reached ecstasy.

  “What is all this, however?” Ardalion Alexandrovich exclaimed unexpectedly and menacingly, getting angry and approaching Rogozhin. The unexpectedness of the hitherto silent old man’s outburst made it very comical. Laughter was heard.

  “Where did this one come from?” Rogozhin laughed. “Come with us, old man, you’ll get good and drunk!”

  “That’s mean!” cried Kolya, all in tears from shame and vexation.

  “Isn’t there at least someone among you who will take this shameless woman out of here?” Varya suddenly cried out, trembling with wrath.

  “It’s me they call shameless!” Nastasya Filippovna retorted with scornful gaiety. “And here I came like a fool to invite them to my party! This is how your dear sister treats me, Gavrila Ardalionovich!”

  For a short while Ganya stood as if thunderstruck by his sister’s outburst; but seeing that Nastasya Filippovna was really leaving this time, he fell upon Varya like a man beside himself and furiously seized her by the hand.

  “What have you done?” he cried out, looking at her as if he wished to reduce her to ashes on the spot. He was decidedly lost and not thinking well.

  “What have I done? Where are you dragging me? Not to ask her forgiveness for having insulted your mother and come to disgrace your home, you low man!” Varya cried again, triumphant, and looking defiantly at her brother.

  For a few moments they stood facing each other like that. Ganya was still holding her hand in his. Varya pulled it once or twice with all her might, but could no longer hold back and suddenly, beside herself, spat in her brother’s face.

  “That’s the girl!” cried Nastasya Filippovna. “Bravo, Ptitsyn, I congratulate you!”

  Ganya’s eyes went dim and, forgetting himself entirely, he swung at his sister with all his might. The blow would certainly have landed on her face. But suddenly another hand stopped his arm in midair.

  The prince stepped between him and his sister.

  “Enough, no more of that!” he said insistently, but also trembling all over, as if from an extremely strong shock.

  “What, are you always going to stand in my way!” Ganya bellowed, dropping Varya’s hand, and, having freed his arm, in the utmost degree of rage, he swung roundly and slapped the prince in the face.

  “Ah!” Kolya clasped his hands, “ah, my God!”

  There were exclamations on all sides. The prince turned pale. With a strange and reproachful gaze, he looked straight into Ganya’s eyes; his lips trembled and attempted to say something; they were twisted by a strange and completely inappropriate smile.

  “Well, let that be for me … but her … I still won’t let you!…” he said quietly at last; but suddenly unable to control himself, he left Ganya, covered his face with his hands, went to the corner, stood facing the wall, and said in a faltering voice:

  “Oh, how ashamed you’ll be of what you’ve done!”

  Ganya indeed stood as if annihilated. Kolya rushed to the prince and began embracing him and kissing him; after him crowded Rogozhin, Varya, Ptitsyn, Nina Alexandrovna, everyone, even old Ardalion Alexandrovich.

  “Never mind, never mind!” the prince murmured in all directions, with the same inappropriate smile.

  “He’ll be sorry!” shouted Rogozhin. “You’ll be ashamed, Ganka, to have offended such a … sheep!” (He was unable to find any other word.) “Prince, my dear soul, drop them all, spit on them, and let’s go! You’ll learn how Rogozhin loves!”

  Nastasya Filippovna was also very struck both by Ganya’s act and by the prince’s response. Her usually pale and pensive face, which all this while had been so out of harmony with her affected laughter, was now visibly animated by a new feeling; and yet she still seemed unwilling to show it, and the mockery remained as if forcedly on her face.

  “Really, I’ve seen his face somewhere!” she said unexpectedly, seriously now, suddenly remembering her question earlier.

  “And you’re not even ashamed! You can’t be the way you pretended to be just now. It’s not possible!” the prince suddenly cried out in deeply felt reproach.

  Nastasya Filippovna was surprised, smiled, but, as if keeping something behind her smile, slightly embarrassed, she glanced at Ganya and left the drawing room. But before she reached the front hall, she suddenly came back, quickly went up to Nina Alexandrovna, took her hand, and brought it to her lips.

  “He guessed right, in fact, I’m not like that,” she whispered quickly, fervently, suddenly flushing and becoming all red, and, turning around, she went out so quickly this time that no one managed to figure out why she had come back. They only saw that she whispered something to Nina Alexandrovna and seemed to kiss her hand. But Varya saw and heard everything, and in astonishment followed her with her eyes.

  Ganya came to his senses and rushed to see Nastasya Filippovna off, but she had already gone out. He caught up with her on the stairs.

  “Don’t see me off!” she called to him. “Good-bye, till this evening! Without fail, you hear!”

  He came back confused, pensive; a heavy riddle lay on his soul, still heavier than before. The prince, too, was on his mind … He was so oblivious that he barely noticed how the whole Rogozhin crowd poured past him and even jostled him in the doorway, quickly making their way out of the apartment after Rogozhin. They were all discussing something in loud voices. Rogozhin himself walked with Ptitsyn, insistently repeating something very important and apparently urgent.

  “The game’s up, Ganka!” he cried, passing by.

  Ganya anxiously watched him leave.

  XI

  THE PRINCE LEFT the drawing room and shut himself up in his room. Kolya immediately came running to comfort him. It seemed the poor boy was no longer able to leave him alone.

  “It’s a good thing you left,” he said. “There’ll be worse turmoil there than before, and it’s like that every day, and it all started because of this Nastasya Filippovna.”

  “You’ve got many different hurts accumulated here, Kolya,” the
prince observed.

  “Hurts, yes. There’s no point talking about us, though. It’s our own fault. But I have a great friend here who’s even more unhappy. Would you like to meet him?”

  “Very much. A comrade of yours?”

  “Yes, almost like a comrade. I’ll explain it all to you later … And Nastasya Filippovna is beautiful, don’t you think? I never even saw her till today, though I tried hard to. Really dazzling. I’d forgive Ganka everything if he loved her; but why he’s taking money, that’s the trouble!”

  “Yes, I don’t much like your brother.”

  “Well, what else! For you, after … But you know, I can’t stand these different opinions. Some madman, or fool, or villain in a mad state, gives a slap in the face, and the man is dishonored for the rest of his life and can’t wash it off except with blood, or if the other one begs forgiveness on his knees. I think it’s absurd and despotism. Lermontov’s play The Masquerade‖ is based on it and—stupidly so, in my opinion. That is, I mean to say, it’s unnatural. But he wrote it when he was almost still a child.”

  “I like your sister very much.”

  “How she spat in Ganka’s mug! Brave Varka! But you didn’t spit, and I’m sure it’s not from lack of courage. Ah, here she is herself, speak of the devil. I knew she’d come: she’s noble, though she has some shortcomings.”

  “You have no business here,” Varya fell upon him first of all. “Go to your father. Is he bothering you, Prince?”

  “Not at all, on the contrary.”

  “Well, big sister’s off again! That’s the bad thing about her. And, by the way, I thought father would be sure to go with Rogozhin. He’s probably sorry now. In fact, I should go and see how he is,” Kolya added, going out.

  “Thank God, I took mama away and put her to bed, and there are no new developments. Ganya is confused and very pensive. And he has reason to be. What a lesson!… I’ve come to thank you once again, Prince, and to ask you: did you know Nastasya Filippovna before?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Then what made you tell her to her face that she was ‘not like that’? And it seems you guessed right. It appears that she may indeed not be like that. However, I can’t make her out! Of course, her aim was to insult us, that’s clear. I heard a great many strange things about her even before. But if she came to invite us, why did she start treating mama that way? Ptitsyn knows her very well; he says he couldn’t figure her out just now. And with Rogozhin? A woman can’t speak like that, if she has any self-respect, in the house of her … Mama is also very worried about you.”

  “It’s nothing!” the prince said and waved his hand.

  “And how is it she listened to you …”

  “Listened to what?”

  “You told her she was ashamed, and she suddenly changed completely. You have influence over her, Prince,” Varya added with a slight smile.

  The door opened, and quite unexpectedly Ganya came in.

  He did not even hesitate on seeing Varya; for a moment he stood on the threshold and with sudden resoluteness went up to the prince.

  “Prince, I acted meanly, forgive me, dear heart,” he said suddenly, with strong emotion. The features of his face expressed strong pain. The prince stared in amazement and did not respond at once. “Well, so, forgive me, forgive me!” Ganya insisted impatiently. “Well, if you want, I’ll kiss your hand right now.”

  The prince was extremely surprised and silently embraced Ganya with both arms. The two men kissed each other with sincere feeling.

  “I never, never thought you were like this,” the prince said at last, barely catching his breath. “I thought you were … incapable.”

  “Of apologizing?… And what made me think earlier that you were an idiot? You notice things that other people never notice. One could talk with you, but … better not to talk!”

  “There’s someone else here that you should apologize to,” the prince said, pointing to Varya.

  “No, they’re all my enemies. Rest assured, Prince, I’ve tried many times; they don’t forgive sincerely here!” Ganya burst out hotly and turned away from Varya.

  “No, I will forgive you!” Varya said suddenly.

  “And go to Nastasya Filippovna’s tonight?”

  “I will if you tell me to, only you’d better judge for yourself: is it at all possible for me to go now?”

  “But she’s not like that. See what riddles she sets! Tricks!” And Ganya laughed spitefully.

  “I know myself she’s not like that and has her tricks, but what tricks? And besides, look, how does she consider you yourself, Ganya? So she kissed mama’s hand. So it’s some kind of tricks—but she did laugh at you! By God, brother, that’s not worth seventy-five thousand! You’re still capable of noble feelings, that’s why I’m telling you. No, don’t go there! Be careful! It can’t come to any good!”

  Having said this, Varya quickly left the room in great agitation.

  “That’s how they always are!” said Ganya, smiling. “Can they possibly think I don’t know it myself? I know much more than they do.”

  Having said this, Ganya sat down on the sofa, obviously wishing to prolong his visit.

  “If you know it yourself,” the prince asked rather timidly, “why have you chosen such a torment, knowing that it’s really not worth seventy-five thousand?”

  “I wasn’t talking about that,” Ganya muttered, “but, incidentally, tell me what you think, I precisely want to know your opinion: is this ‘torment’ worth seventy-five thousand or is it not?”

  “To my mind, it’s not.”

  “Well, no news there. And it’s shameful to marry like that?”

  “Very shameful.”

  “Well, be it known to you, then, that I am getting married, and it’s now quite certain. Earlier today I was still hesitating, but not anymore! Be quiet! I know what you want to say …”

  “It’s not what you think, but I’m very surprised at your extreme assurance …”

  “About what? Which assurance?”

  “That Nastasya Filippovna is certain to accept you, and that it’s all concluded, and, second, even if she does, that the seventy-five thousand will go straight into your pocket. Though, of course, there’s much here that I don’t know.”

  Ganya made a strong movement towards the prince.

  “Of course you don’t know everything,” he said. “And what would make me take all this burden on myself?”

  “It seems to me that it happens all the time: a man marries for money, and the money stays with the wife.”

  “No, no, it won’t be like that with us … Here … here there are certain circumstances …” Ganya murmured in anxious pensiveness. “And as for her answer, there’s no doubt about it now,” he added quickly. “What makes you conclude that she’ll reject me?”

  “I know nothing except what I’ve seen. And Varvara Ardalionovna also said just now …”

  “Eh! That’s nothing, they just don’t know what else to say. And she was making fun of Rogozhin, rest assured, that I could see. It was obvious. I was frightened earlier, but now I can see it. Or maybe you mean the way she treated my mother, and my father, and Varya?”

  “And you.”

  “Perhaps. But here it’s the age-old woman’s revenge and nothing more. She’s a terribly irritable, suspicious, and vain woman. Like an official overlooked for promotion! She wanted to show herself and all her contempt for us … well, and for me, too—it’s true, I don’t deny it … But she’ll marry me all the same. You don’t even suspect what tricks human vanity is capable of. Here she considers me a scoundrel because I’m taking her, another man’s mistress, so openly for her money, but she doesn’t know that another man could dupe her in a more scoundrelly way: he’d get at her and start pouring out liberal and progressive stuff, all drawn from various women’s questions, and he’d have the whole of her slip right through the needle’s eye like a thread. He’d convince the vain fool (and so easily!) that he’s taking her only ‘for t
he nobility of her heart and her misfortunes,’ and marry her for her money all the same. She doesn’t like me, because I don’t want to shuffle; it would be fine if I did. And what’s she doing herself? Isn’t it the same? Why, then, does she go scorning me and playing all these games? Because I show my pride and don’t give in. Well, we’ll see!”

  “Did you really love her before this?”

  “In the beginning I loved her. Well, enough … There are women who are only fit to be mistresses and nothing else. I’m not saying she was my mistress. If she wants to live quietly, I’ll live quietly, too. If she rebels, I’ll drop her at once and take the money with me. I don’t want to be ridiculous; above all I don’t want to be ridiculous.”

  “I keep thinking,” the prince observed cautiously, “that Nastasya Filippovna is intelligent. If she anticipates such torment, why should she walk into the trap? She could marry somebody else. That’s what surprises me.”

  “But there’s the calculation! You don’t know everything, Prince … here … and, besides, she’s convinced that I’m madly in love with her, I swear to you, and, you know, I strongly suspect that she also loves me, in her own way, that is, as the saying goes: ‘The one I treat, I also beat.’ She’ll consider me a varlet all her life (that may be what she wants) and love me in her own way even so; she’s preparing herself for that, it’s her character. She’s an extremely Russian woman, I tell you. Well, but I’m preparing my own surprise for her. That scene earlier with Varya happened accidentally, but it was to my profit: now she’s seen and been convinced of my devotion and that I’ll break all connections for her sake. Meaning we’re no fools, rest assured. Incidentally, I hope you don’t think I’m such a babbler? Indeed, my dear Prince, perhaps it’s a bad thing that I’m confiding in you. I fell upon you precisely because you’re the first noble person I’ve met—I mean, ‘fell upon’ with no pun intended. You’re not angry because of what happened, eh? I’m speaking from the heart maybe for the first time in a whole two years. There are very few honest people here. Ptitsyn’s the most honest. It seems you’re laughing, or aren’t you? Scoundrels love honest people—did you know that? And I’m … However, in what way am I a scoundrel? Tell me in all conscience. Why do they repeat after her that I’m a scoundrel? And, you know, I also repeat after them and her that I’m a scoundrel! That’s the most scoundrelly thing of all!”