The Idiot

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by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

fellow and shall verylikely not come to see you again for some time; but don’t think theworse of me for that. It is not that I do not value your society; andyou must never suppose that I have taken offence at anything.

  “You asked me about your faces, and what I could read in them; I willtell you with the greatest pleasure. You, Adelaida Ivanovna, have a veryhappy face; it is the most sympathetic of the three. Not to speak ofyour natural beauty, one can look at your face and say to one’s self,‘She has the face of a kind sister.’ You are simple and merry, but youcan see into another’s heart very quickly. That’s what I read in yourface.

  “You too, Alexandra Ivanovna, have a very lovely face; but I think youmay have some secret sorrow. Your heart is undoubtedly a kind, good one,but you are not merry. There is a certain suspicion of ‘shadow’ in yourface, like in that of Holbein’s Madonna in Dresden. So much for yourface. Have I guessed right?

  “As for your face, Lizabetha Prokofievna, I not only think, but amperfectly _sure_, that you are an absolute child--in all, in all, mind,both good and bad--and in spite of your years. Don’t be angry with mefor saying so; you know what my feelings for children are. And do notsuppose that I am so candid out of pure simplicity of soul. Oh dear no,it is by no means the case! Perhaps I have my own very profound objectin view.”

  VII.

  When the prince ceased speaking all were gazing merrily at him--evenAglaya; but Lizabetha Prokofievna looked the jolliest of all.

  “Well!” she cried, “we _have_ ‘put him through his paces,’ with avengeance! My dears, you imagined, I believe, that you were aboutto patronize this young gentleman, like some poor _protégé_ picked upsomewhere, and taken under your magnificent protection. What fools wewere, and what a specially big fool is your father! Well done, prince! Iassure you the general actually asked me to put you through your paces,and examine you. As to what you said about my face, you are absolutelycorrect in your judgment. I am a child, and know it. I knew it longbefore you said so; you have expressed my own thoughts. I think yournature and mine must be extremely alike, and I am very glad of it. Weare like two drops of water, only you are a man and I a woman, and I’venot been to Switzerland, and that is all the difference between us.”

  “Don’t be in a hurry, mother; the prince says that he has some motivebehind his simplicity,” cried Aglaya.

  “Yes, yes, so he does,” laughed the others.

  “Oh, don’t you begin bantering him,” said mamma. “He is probably a gooddeal cleverer than all three of you girls put together. We shall see.Only you haven’t told us anything about Aglaya yet, prince; and Aglayaand I are both waiting to hear.”

  “I cannot say anything at present. I’ll tell you afterwards.”

  “Why? Her face is clear enough, isn’t it?”

  “Oh yes, of course. You are very beautiful, Aglaya Ivanovna, sobeautiful that one is afraid to look at you.”

  “Is that all? What about her character?” persisted Mrs. Epanchin.

  “It is difficult to judge when such beauty is concerned. I have notprepared my judgment. Beauty is a riddle.”

  “That means that you have set Aglaya a riddle!” said Adelaida. “Guessit, Aglaya! But she’s pretty, prince, isn’t she?”

  “Most wonderfully so,” said the latter, warmly, gazing at Aglaya withadmiration. “Almost as lovely as Nastasia Philipovna, but quite adifferent type.”

  All present exchanged looks of surprise.

  “As lovely as _who?_” said Mrs. Epanchin. “As _Nastasia Philipovna?_Where have you seen Nastasia Philipovna? What Nastasia Philipovna?”

  “Gavrila Ardalionovitch showed the general her portrait just now.”

  “How so? Did he bring the portrait for my husband?”

  “Only to show it. Nastasia Philipovna gave it to Gavrila Ardalionovitchtoday, and the latter brought it here to show to the general.”

  “I must see it!” cried Mrs. Epanchin. “Where is the portrait? If shegave it to him, he must have it; and he is still in the study. Henever leaves before four o’clock on Wednesdays. Send for GavrilaArdalionovitch at once. No, I don’t long to see _him_ so much. Look here,dear prince, _be_ so kind, will you? Just step to the study and fetch thisportrait! Say we want to look at it. Please do this for me, will you?”

  “He is a nice fellow, but a little too simple,” said Adelaida, as theprince left the room.

  “He is, indeed,” said Alexandra; “almost laughably so at times.”

  Neither one nor the other seemed to give expression to her fullthoughts.

  “He got out of it very neatly about our faces, though,” said Aglaya. “Heflattered us all round, even mamma.”

  “Nonsense!” cried the latter. “He did not flatter me. It was I who foundhis appreciation flattering. I think you are a great deal more foolishthan he is. He is simple, of course, but also very knowing. Just likemyself.”

  “How stupid of me to speak of the portrait,” thought the prince ashe entered the study, with a feeling of guilt at his heart, “and yet,perhaps I was right after all.” He had an idea, unformed as yet, but astrange idea.

  Gavrila Ardalionovitch was still sitting in the study, buried in amass of papers. He looked as though he did not take his salary from thepublic company, whose servant he was, for a sinecure.

  He grew very wroth and confused when the prince asked for the portrait,and explained how it came about that he had spoken of it.

  “Oh, curse it all,” he said; “what on earth must you go blabbing for?You know nothing about the thing, and yet--idiot!” he added, mutteringthe last word to himself in irrepressible rage.

  “I am very sorry; I was not thinking at the time. I merely said thatAglaya was almost as beautiful as Nastasia Philipovna.”

  Gania asked for further details; and the prince once more repeated theconversation. Gania looked at him with ironical contempt the while.

  “Nastasia Philipovna,” he began, and there paused; he was clearly muchagitated and annoyed. The prince reminded him of the portrait.

  “Listen, prince,” said Gania, as though an idea had just struck him, “Iwish to ask you a great favour, and yet I really don’t know--”

  He paused again, he was trying to make up his mind to something, andwas turning the matter over. The prince waited quietly. Once more Ganiafixed him with intent and questioning eyes.

  “Prince,” he began again, “they are rather angry with me, in there,owing to a circumstance which I need not explain, so that I do not careto go in at present without an invitation. I particularly wish to speakto Aglaya, but I have written a few words in case I shall not have thechance of seeing her” (here the prince observed a small note in hishand), “and I do not know how to get my communication to her. Don’t youthink you could undertake to give it to her at once, but only to her,mind, and so that no one else should see you give it? It isn’t much of asecret, but still--Well, will you do it?”

  “I don’t quite like it,” replied the prince.

  “Oh, but it is absolutely necessary for me,” Gania entreated. “Believeme, if it were not so, I would not ask you; how else am I to get it toher? It is most important, dreadfully important!”

  Gania was evidently much alarmed at the idea that the prince would notconsent to take his note, and he looked at him now with an expression ofabsolute entreaty.

  “Well, I will take it then.”

  “But mind, nobody is to see!” cried the delighted Gania “And of course Imay rely on your word of honour, eh?”

  “I won’t show it to anyone,” said the prince.

  “The letter is not sealed--” continued Gania, and paused in confusion.

  “Oh, I won’t read it,” said the prince, quite simply.

  He took up the portrait, and went out of the room.

  Gania, left alone, clutched his head with his hands.

  “One word from her,” he said, “one word from her, and I may yet befree.”

  He could not settle himself to his papers again, for agitation andexcitement, but be
gan walking up and down the room from corner tocorner.

  The prince walked along, musing. He did not like his commission, anddisliked the idea of Gania sending a note to Aglaya at all; but whenhe was two rooms distant from the drawing-room, where they all were,he stopped as though recalling something; went to the window, nearer thelight, and began to examine the portrait in his hand.

  He longed to solve the mystery of something in the face of NastasiaPhilipovna, something which had struck him as he looked at the portraitfor the first time; the impression had not left him. It was partly thefact of her marvellous beauty that struck him, and partly somethingelse. There was a suggestion of immense pride and disdain in the facealmost of hatred, and at the same time something confiding and very fullof simplicity. The contrast aroused a deep sympathy in his heart ashe looked at the lovely face. The blinding loveliness of it was almostintolerable, this pale thin face with its flaming eyes; it was a strangebeauty.

  The prince gazed at it for a minute or two, then glanced around him,and hurriedly raised the portrait to his lips. When, a minute after, hereached the drawing-room door, his face was quite composed. But just ashe reached the door he met

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