The Idiot (102 page)

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Authors: Fyodor Dostoyevsky

BOOK: The Idiot
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‘Yes, yes, you are right, oh, I do feel that I’m to blame!’ said the prince in inexpressible anguish.
‘But is that sufficient?’ exclaimed Yevgeny Pavlovich in indignation. ‘Is it enough simply to exclaim: “Oh, I’m to blame!” You’re to blame, yet you persist! And where then was your heart, that “Christian” heart of yours? I mean, you saw her face at that moment: well, was she suffering less than the
other,
than
your
other, her rival in love? How could you see that and allow it? How?’
‘But ... you see, I didn’t allow it ...’ muttered the unhappy prince.
‘What do you mean, didn’t allow it?’
‘I swear to God, I didn’t allow anything. I still don’t understand how it all happened ... I — ran after Aglaya Ivanovna that day, and Nastasya Filippovna fell in a swoon; and after that they won’t admit me to see Aglaya Ivanovna.’
‘It doesn’t matter! You should have run after Aglaya, even though the other one was lying in a swoon!’
‘Yes ... yes, I should have ... I mean, she would have died! She would have killed herself, you don’t know her, and ... I would have told Aglaya Ivanovna everything later, and ... Look , Yevgeny Pavlovich, I can see that you apparently don’t know everything. Tell me, why will they not admit me to Aglaya Ivanovna now? I would explain everything to her. Look: at the time neither of them talked about what was important, not about that at all, and that is why things turned out with them as they did ... I am quite unable to explain it to you; but perhaps I’d be able to explain it to Aglaya ... Oh, my goodness, my goodness! You talk of her face at the moment she ran out that day ... Oh, my goodness, I remember it! Let us go, let us go!’ He suddenly pulled at Yevgeny Pavlovich’s sleeve, hurriedly jumping up from his seat.
‘Where?’
‘Let us go to Aglaya Ivanovna, let us go at once! ...’
‘But I mean, she’s not in Pavlovsk, I told you, and why go to her?’
‘She’ll understand, she’ll understand!’ muttered the prince, putting his hands together in supplication. ‘She’ll understand that all this is not important, that the important thing is something quite, quite different!’
‘What do you mean, quite different? But you’re going to marry that woman all the same, aren’t you? So you persist ... Are you going to marry her, or aren’t you?’
‘Well, yes ... I’m going to marry her; yes, I’m going to marry her!’
‘So why is it not the important thing?’
‘Oh no, it’s not, it’s not! It, it doesn’t matter that I’m going to marry her, it’s nothing!’
‘What do you mean, it doesn’t matter and it’s nothing? That’s nonsense, too, isn’t it? You’re going to marry the woman you love, in order to ensure her happiness, and Aglaya Ivanovna sees it and knows it, so how can it not matter?’
‘Happiness? Oh, no! I’m simply going to marry her; that’s what she wants; and what’s so special about the fact that I’m going to marry her? I ... Well, but it doesn’t matter! Only she would certainly have died. I can see now that this proposed marriage of hers to Rogozhin was madness! I now understand everything I didn’t understand before, and you see: when they were both standing facing each other, I couldn’t bear to look at Nastasya Filippovna’s face ... You don’t know, Yevgeny Pavlovich (he lowered his voice mysteriously), I’ve never told this to anyone, never, not even to Aglaya, but I cannot bear Nastasya Filippovna’s face ... You spoke the truth just now about that soiree at Nastasya Filippovna’s; but there was one more thing there that you left out, because you do not know: I was looking at her face! Even that morning, in the portrait, I couldn’t bear it ... Vera, now, Vera Lebedeva, she has quite different eyes; I ... I’m afraid of
her
face!’ he added in extreme terror.
‘You’re afraid?’
‘Yes; she’s insane!’ he whispered, turning pale.
‘Do you know that for certain?’ Yevgeny Pavlovich asked with intense curiosity.
‘Yes, I do; now I’m certain of it; now, in these last few days I’ve discovered it for certain!’
‘Then what are you doing to yourself?’ Yevgeny Pavlovich exclaimed in alarm. ‘So you’re going to marry her out of some kind of fear? It’s all quite incomprehensible ... I suppose you don’t even love her?’
‘Oh no, I love her with all my soul! I mean she’s ... a child; now she’s a child, a complete child! Oh, you don’t know anything!’
‘And at the same time you’ve been assuring Aglaya Ivanovna of your love?’
‘Oh yes, yes!’
‘But why? Do you want to love them both?’
‘Oh yes, yes!’
‘For heaven’s sake, Prince, what are you saying, pull yourself together!’
‘Without Aglaya I ... I absolutely must see her! I ... shall soon die in my sleep; I thought I was going to die in my sleep last night. Oh, if Aglaya only knew, knew everything ... I mean, absolutely everything. Because here one must know everything, that is of paramount importance! Why can we never learn everything about another, when it’s vital, when that other is to blame ... Though, as a matter of fact I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m confused; you gave me a dreadful shock ... And does she really have the same face now as she had when she ran out of the room? Oh yes, I’m to blame! It’s most probable that I’m to blame for it all! I don’t know what it is, exactly, but I’m to blame for it ... There is something here that I can’t explain to you, Yevgeny Pavlovich, and I don’t have the words, but ... Aglaya Ivanovna will understand! Oh, I’ve always believed that she’d understand.’
‘No, Prince, she won’t understand! Aglaya Ivanovna loved like a woman, like a human being, and not like ... an abstract spirit. Do you know what, my poor Prince? It’s highly likely that you’ve never loved either the one or the other!’
‘I don’t know ... perhaps, perhaps; in many respects you’re right, Yevgeny Pavlovich. You’re extremely clever, Yevgeny Pavlovich; oh, I’m starting to get a headache again, let’s go to her! For God’s sake, for God’s sake!’
‘But she’s not in Pavlovsk, I tell you, she’s in Kolmino.’
‘Then let’s go to Kolmino, let’s go there right now!’
‘That’s im-poss-ible!’ drawled Yevgeny Pavlovich, getting up.
‘Listen, I’ll write her a letter; please take her a letter!’
‘No, Prince, no! Spare me such errands, I can’t do that.’
They parted. Yevgeny Pavlovich went away with some strange convictions: in his opinion, too, it appeared that the prince was to some extent not in his right mind. And what was the meaning of this face he feared and loved so much! And yet after all, at the same time perhaps he really would die without Aglaya, so that perhaps Aglaya would never learn the degree to which he loved her! Ha-ha! And what was this about loving two women at once? With two different kinds of love? That was interesting ... the poor idiot! And what was going to become of him now?
10
But the prince did not die before his wedding, either awake or ‘in his sleep’, as he had predicted to Yevgeny Pavlovich. Perhaps he did indeed sleep badly and have bad dreams; but during the daytime, with other people, he seemed good-natured and even content, though sometimes rather pensive, but this only when he was alone. The wedding was being hurried up; it was fixed for about a week after Yevgeny Pavlovich’s visit. In the presence of such haste even the prince’s best friends, if such he had, must have been disappointed in their attempts to ‘save’ the unfortunate madcap. Rumours were circulating that General Yepanchin and his spouse, Lizaveta Prokofyevna, were in part to blame for Yevgeny Pavlovich’s visit. But even if, from the infinite goodness of their hearts, they might have wished to save the madman from the abyss, they were of course bound to limit themselves to this one feeble attempt; neither their position, nor even, perhaps, their hearts’ disposition (as was natural) would have been suited to more serious efforts. We have mentioned that even those who surrounded the prince had to some extent risen against him. Vera Lebedeva, however, restricted herself to tears wept in solitude, and also to staying at home more and calling in to see the prince less often than before. Kolya was at this time in the midst of burying his father; the old man had died from a second stroke, some eight days after the first. The prince involved himself greatly in the family’s grief, and initially spent several hours each day with Nina Alexandrovna; attended the funeral and went to the church. Many noticed that the public at the church whispered involuntarily as they greeted the prince and watched him leave; the same thing happened in the streets and in the park: whenever he walked or drove past there was talk, people would mention his name, point at him, and the name of Nastasya Filippovna would be heard. She was also sought at the funeral, but did not attend it. Also absent from the funeral was the captain’s widow, whom Lebedev had managed to catch and prevent from coming. The funeral service made a powerful and painful impression on the prince. While they were in the church, he whispered to Lebedev in response to some question that it was the first time he had ever attended an Orthodox funeral service, and that the only other service of the kind he could recall was in some country church of his childhood.
‘Yes, sir, it’s as though it weren’t the same man lying there, in the coffin, sir, whom we appointed chairman so very recently, you remember, sir?’ Lebedev whispered to the prince. ‘Who are you looking for, sir?’
‘Oh, it doesn’t matter, I had the i
mpression ...’
‘Not Rogozhin, is it?’
‘Is he here?’
‘In the church, sir.’
‘I
thought
I saw his eyes,’ the prince muttered in perplexity. ‘But, well ... why is he here? Was he invited?’
‘It never even crossed their minds, sir. I mean, he’s not an acquaintance of theirs at all, sir. You see, there’s all sorts of people here, sir, the public, sir. But why are you so surprised? I often encounter him now: I’ve met him about four times this last week here in Pavlovsk.’
‘I haven’t seen him once ... since that time,’ muttered the prince.
As Nastasya Filippovna had also never once told him that she had met Rogozhin ‘since that time’, the prince now concluded that Rogozhin was for some reason deliberately staying out of sight. All that day he was immersed in intense reflection; while Nastasya Filippovna was unusually cheerful all that day and evening.
Kolya, who had made his peace with the prince before his father’s death, suggested to him that he invite Keller and Burdovsky to be best men at the ceremony (as the matter was urgent and would brook no delay). He vouched for Keller, saying that the latter would conduct himself decently, and might even be ‘useful’, while Burdovsky’s merits went without saying, he was a quiet and modest fellow. Nina Alexandrovna and Lebedev remarked to the prince more than once that if the wedding were decided upon, then why hold it in Pavlovsk, in the season of dachas and fashion, and why so publicly? Would it not be better to hold it in St Petersburg, or even at the house? To the prince the tendency of these apprehensions was all too clear; but he replied briefly and simply that such was Nastasya Filippovna’s unalterable wish.
On the next day Keller also came to see the prince, having been informed that he was to be best man. Before entering, he stopped in the doorway and, as soon as he saw the prince, raised his right hand with index finger straightened, and shouted as if it were a vow:
‘I won’t drink!’
After that, he went up to the prince, firmly pressed and shook both his hands and declared that, of course, when he first heard about the wedding his attitude was one of hostility, that he had proclaimed it at the billiard hall, and for no other reason than that he had hoped and waited, with the impatience of a friend, to see the prince married to none other than the Princesse de Rohan;
1
but now he himself could see that the prince’s cast of mind was at least a dozen times more noble than the rest of them ‘taken together’. For what he wanted was not splendour, wealth nor even honour, but merely - the truth! The sympathies of elevated persons were all too well known, but the prince was too elevated by his education not to be an elevated person, all in all! ‘But the dregs and the various riff-raff judge differently; in the town, in the houses, at the gatherings, at the dachas, at the bandstand, in the taverns, at the billiard halls, all the hue and cry is about nothing but the impending event. I’ve even heard that they’re going to assemble a
charivari
below your windows, and this, so to speak, on your first night! Prince, if you require the pistol of an honest man, then I’
m ready to exchange half a dozen honourable shots before you rise the next morning from your honeymoon couch.’ He also advised, to guard against the danger of a great influx of thirsty people on their emergence from the church, the preparation of a fire-hose in the yard; but Lebedev was opposed to this: ‘If they see a fire-hose,’ he said, ‘they’ll reduce the house to splinters.’
‘That Lebedev fellow is conducting an intrigue against you, Prince, by God he is! They want to make you a ward of court, can you imagine it, in everything, your free will and your money, that is, in the two things that distinguish us from the quadrupeds! I’ve heard it, I’ve heard it for a fact! It’s the sheer unadulterated truth!’
The prince remembered having heard something of this kind himself, but had not, of course, paid any attention. Even now he merely burst out laughing and at once forgot again. Lebedev had been busying himself for some time; this man’s calculations always came into being as if by inspiration, and because of excessive zeal grew more complex and ramified, departing from their original starting-point in all directions; that was why he had had little success in life. When later, almost on the day of the wedding, he came to the prince to confess (he had an unfailing habit of always coming to confess to those against whom he was conducting an intrigue, especially if he was not having much success), he announced to him that he had been born a Talleyrand, but for some unknown reason had remained a mere Lebedev. Thereupon he revealed his whole game, which the prince found extremely interesting. In his own words, he had begun by seeking the patronage of elevated persons from whom he could receive support if need be, and went to see General Ivan Fyodorovich. General Ivan Fyodorovich was taken aback, wished the ‘young man’ very well, but declared that ‘for all his wish to save him, it would not be proper for him to act in this matter’. Lizaveta Prokofyevna was willing neither to hear him nor to see him; Yevgeny Pavlovich and Prince Shch. simply waved him away. But he, Lebedev, had not let his spirits sag, and had taken counsel with a certain astute legal expert, a venerable little old man, his great friend and almost his benefactor; the latter concluded that it was a completely practicable matter, as long as there were competent witnesses of mental derangement and complete insanity, and also, most importantly, the patronage of elevated persons. Lebedev was not discouraged, and one day even brought a doctor, also a venerable little old man, a dacha-dweller, with the St Anne’s ribbon,
2
to see the prince, for the sole purpose of inspecting, as it were, the lie of the land, making the prince’s acquaintance and for the time being unofficially, but, as it were, in a friendly context, to inform him, Lebedev, of his conclusion. The prince remembered this visit by the doctor; he remembered that Lebedev had kept insisting the day before that he was unwell, and when the prince determinedly refused any medicine, had suddenly appeared with the doctor, on the pretext that they had both just come from Mr Terentyev, who was very poorly, and that the doctor had something to tell the prince about the sick man. The prince commended Le
bedev and received the doctor with exceeding cordiality. They at once conversed about the sick Ippolit; the doctor asked the prince to relate in more detail the suicide scene of that day, and the prince completely carried him away with his account and explanation of the event. They began to talk about the St Petersburg climate, about the prince’s own illness, about Switzerland, about Schneider. The exposition of Schneider’s system of treatment and the prince’s stories so interested the doctor that he stayed for two hours; during this time he smoked the prince’s excellent cigars, while courtesy of Lebedev there appeared a most splendid liqueur, brought in by Vera, whereupon the doctor, a married man with a family, launched into particular compliments in front of Vera, which aroused deep indignation in her. They parted friends. Emerging from the prince’s quarters, the doctor told Lebedev that were such men were to be made wards of court, who would be found to be their guardians? As for the tragic account, on Lebedev’s part, of the nearly impending event, the doctor shook his head slyly and craftily, and, at last, observed that, quite apart from the fact that ‘one can never tell who will marry whom‘, as far as he had heard, ‘The seductive lady, in addition to her inordinate beauty, which alone would be capable of turning the head of a man with a fortune, also possessed capital, both from Totsky and from Rogozhin, pearls and diamonds, shawls and furniture, so that not only did the impending choice fail to express on the part of the dear prince, as it were, any particular, glaring stupidity, it even bore witness to the cunning of an astute worldly intellect and calculation, and therefore led to an opposite conclusion, one that was perfectly favourable to the prince ...’ This thought had also struck Lebedev; this was what he was left with, and now, he added to the prince, ‘Now you will see nothing from me but devotion and the shedding of my blood; that’s what I came to tell you.’

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