The Idiot

by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

faults, for one cannot imaginea greater agony. As I read the story my heart bled for her. And whatdoes it matter to you, little worm, if I implored the Divine mercy forher, great sinner as she was, as I said my evening prayer? I might havedone it because I doubted if anyone had ever crossed himself for hersake before. It may be that in the other world she will rejoice to thinkthat a sinner like herself has cried to heaven for the salvation of hersoul. Why are you laughing? You believe nothing, atheist! And your storywas not even correct! If you had listened to what I was saying, youwould have heard that I did not only pray for the Comtesse du Barry. Isaid, ‘Oh Lord! give rest to the soul of that great sinner, the Comtessedu Barry, and to all unhappy ones like her.’ You see that is quite adifferent thing, for how many sinners there are, how many women, whohave passed through the trials of this life, are now suffering andgroaning in purgatory! I prayed for you, too, in spite of your insolenceand impudence, also for your fellows, as it seems that you claim to knowhow I pray...”

  “Oh! that’s enough in all conscience! Pray for whom you choose, and thedevil take them and you! We have a scholar here; you did not know that,prince?” he continued, with a sneer. “He reads all sorts of books andmemoirs now.”

  “At any rate, your uncle has a kind heart,” remarked the prince, whoreally had to force himself to speak to the nephew, so much did hedislike him.

  “Oh, now you are going to praise him! He will be set up! He puts hishand on his heart, and he is delighted! I never said he was a manwithout heart, but he is a rascal--that’s the pity of it. And then, heis addicted to drink, and his mind is unhinged, like that of mostpeople who have taken more than is good for them for years. He loves hischildren--oh, I know that well enough! He respected my aunt, his latewife... and he even has a sort of affection for me. He has remembered mein his will.”

  “I shall leave you nothing!” exclaimed his uncle angrily.

  “Listen to me, Lebedeff,” said the prince in a decided voice, turninghis back on the young man. “I know by experience that when you choose,you can be business-like... I have very little time to spare, andif you... By the way--excuse me--what is your Christian name? I haveforgotten it.”

  “Ti-Ti-Timofey.”

  “And?”

  “Lukianovitch.”

  Everyone in the room began to laugh.

  “He is telling lies!” cried the nephew. “Even now he cannot speakthe truth. He is not called Timofey Lukianovitch, prince, but LukianTimofeyovitch. Now do tell us why you must needs lie about it? Lukian orTimofey, it is all the same to you, and what difference can it make tothe prince? He tells lies without the least necessity, simply by forceof habit, I assure you.”

  “Is that true?” said the prince impatiently.

  “My name really is Lukian Timofeyovitch,” acknowledged Lebedeff,lowering his eyes, and putting his hand on his heart.

  “Well, for God’s sake, what made you say the other?”

  “To humble myself,” murmured Lebedeff.

  “What on earth do you mean? Oh I if only I knew where Colia was at thismoment!” cried the prince, standing up, as if to go.

  “I can tell you all about Colia,” said the young man

  “Oh! no, no!” said Lebedeff, hurriedly.

  “Colia spent the night here, and this morning went after his father,whom you let out of prison by paying his debts--Heaven only knows why!Yesterday the general promised to come and lodge here, but he did notappear. Most probably he slept at the hotel close by. No doubt Coliais there, unless he has gone to Pavlofsk to see the Epanchins. He had alittle money, and was intending to go there yesterday. He must be eitherat the hotel or at Pavlofsk.”

  “At Pavlofsk! He is at Pavlofsk, undoubtedly!” interrupted Lebedeff....“But come--let us go into the garden--we will have coffee there....” AndLebedeff seized the prince’s arm, and led him from the room. They wentacross the yard, and found themselves in a delightful little gardenwith the trees already in their summer dress of green, thanks to theunusually fine weather. Lebedeff invited his guest to sit down on agreen seat before a table of the same colour fixed in the earth, andtook a seat facing him. In a few minutes the coffee appeared, and theprince did not refuse it. The host kept his eyes fixed on Muishkin, withan expression of passionate servility.

  “I knew nothing about your home before,” said the prince absently, as ifhe were thinking of something else.

  “Poor orphans,” began Lebedeff, his face assuming a mournful air, but hestopped short, for the other looked at him inattentively, as if he hadalready forgotten his own remark. They waited a few minutes in silence,while Lebedeff sat with his eyes fixed mournfully on the young man’sface.

  “Well!” said the latter, at last rousing himself. “Ah! yes! You know whyI came, Lebedeff. Your letter brought me. Speak! Tell me all about it.”

  The clerk, rather confused, tried to say something, hesitated, began tospeak, and again stopped. The prince looked at him gravely.

  “I think I understand, Lukian Timofeyovitch: you were not sure that Ishould come. You did not think I should start at the first word fromyou, and you merely wrote to relieve your conscience. However, yousee now that I have come, and I have had enough of trickery. Give upserving, or trying to serve, two masters. Rogojin has been here thesethree weeks. Have you managed to sell her to him as you did before? Tellme the truth.”

  “He discovered everything, the monster... himself......”

  “Don’t abuse him; though I dare say you have something to complainof....”

  “He beat me, he thrashed me unmercifully!” replied Lebedeff vehemently.“He set a dog on me in Moscow, a bloodhound, a terrible beast thatchased me all down the street.”

  “You seem to take me for a child, Lebedeff. Tell me, is it a fact thatshe left him while they were in Moscow?”

  “Yes, it is a fact, and this time, let me tell you, on the very eve oftheir marriage! It was a question of minutes when she slipped off toPetersburg. She came to me directly she arrived--‘Save me, Lukian! findme some refuge, and say nothing to the prince!’ She is afraid of you,even more than she is of him, and in that she shows her wisdom!” AndLebedeff slily put his finger to his brow as he said the last words.

  “And now it is you who have brought them together again?”

  “Excellency, how could I, how could I prevent it?”

  “That will do. I can find out for myself. Only tell me, where is shenow? At his house? With him?”

  “Oh no! Certainly not! ‘I am free,’ she says; you know how she insistson that point. ‘I am entirely free.’ She repeats it over and over again.She is living in Petersburgskaia, with my sister-in-law, as I told youin my letter.”

  “She is there at this moment?”

  “Yes, unless she has gone to Pavlofsk: the fine weather may have temptedher, perhaps, into the country, with Daria Alexeyevna. ‘I am quitefree,’ she says. Only yesterday she boasted of her freedom to NicolaiArdalionovitch--a bad sign,” added Lebedeff, smiling.

  “Colia goes to see her often, does he not?”

  “He is a strange boy, thoughtless, and inclined to be indiscreet.”

  “Is it long since you saw her?”

  “I go to see her every day, every day.”

  “Then you were there yesterday?”

  “N-no: I have not been these three last days.”

  “It is a pity you have taken too much wine, Lebedeff I want to ask yousomething... but...”

  “All right! all right! I am not drunk,” replied the clerk, preparing tolisten.

  “Tell me, how was she when you left her?”

  “She is a woman who is seeking...”

  “Seeking?”

  “She seems always to be searching about, as if she had lost something.The mere idea of her coming marriage disgusts her; she looks on it asan insult. She cares as much for _him_ as for a piece of orange-peel--notmore. Yet I am much mistaken if she does not look on him with fear andtrembling. She forbids his name to be mentioned before her, and theyonly meet when un
avoidable. He understands, well enough! But it must begone through. She is restless, mocking, deceitful, violent....”

  “Deceitful and violent?”

  “Yes, violent. I can give you a proof of it. A few days ago she triedto pull my hair because I said something that annoyed her. I tried tosoothe her by reading the Apocalypse aloud.”

  “What?” exclaimed the prince, thinking he had not heard aright.

  “By reading the Apocalypse. The lady has a restless imagination, he-he!She has a liking for conversation on serious subjects, of any kind; infact they please her so much, that it flatters her to discuss them. Nowfor fifteen years at least I have studied the Apocalypse, and she agreeswith me in thinking that the present is the epoch represented by thethird horse, the black one whose rider holds a measure in his hand. Itseems to me that everything is ruled by measure in our century; all menare clamouring for their rights; ‘a measure of wheat for a penny, andthree measures of barley for a penny.’ But, added to this, men desirefreedom of mind and body, a pure heart, a healthy life, and all God’sgood gifts. Now by pleading their rights alone, they will never attainall this, so the white horse, with his rider