The Idiot

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The Idiot Page 126

by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

to throwaway and shatter such a treasure! Oh, prince, prince!”

  “Yes, yes, you are quite right again,” said the poor prince, in anguishof mind. “I was wrong, I know. But it was only Aglaya who looked onNastasia Philipovna so; no one else did, you know.”

  “But that’s just the worst of it all, don’t you see, that there wasabsolutely nothing serious about the matter in reality!” cried Evgenie,beside himself: “Excuse me, prince, but I have thought over all this; Ihave thought a great deal over it; I know all that had happened before;I know all that took place six months since; and I know there was_nothing_ serious about the matter, it was but fancy, smoke, fantasy,distorted by agitation, and only the alarmed jealousy of an absolutelyinexperienced girl could possibly have mistaken it for serious reality.”

  Here Evgenie Pavlovitch quite let himself go, and gave the reins to hisindignation.

  Clearly and reasonably, and with great psychological insight, he drew apicture of the prince’s past relations with Nastasia Philipovna.Evgenie Pavlovitch always had a ready tongue, but on this occasion hiseloquence, surprised himself. “From the very beginning,” he said, “youbegan with a lie; what began with a lie was bound to end with a lie;such is the law of nature. I do not agree, in fact I am angry, when Ihear you called an idiot; you are far too intelligent to deserve suchan epithet; but you are so far _strange_ as to be unlike others; that youmust allow, yourself. Now, I have come to the conclusion that the basisof all that has happened, has been first of all your innate inexperience(remark the expression ‘innate,’ prince). Then follows your unheard-ofsimplicity of heart; then comes your absolute want of sense ofproportion (to this want you have several times confessed); and lastly,a mass, an accumulation, of intellectual convictions which you, in yourunexampled honesty of soul, accept unquestionably as also innate andnatural and true. Admit, prince, that in your relations with NastasiaPhilipovna there has existed, from the very first, something democratic,and the fascination, so to speak, of the ‘woman question’? I know allabout that scandalous scene at Nastasia Philipovna’s house when Rogojinbrought the money, six months ago. I’ll show you yourself as in alooking-glass, if you like. I know exactly all that went on, in everydetail, and why things have turned out as they have. You thirsted, whilein Switzerland, for your home-country, for Russia; you read, doubtless,many books about Russia, excellent books, I dare say, but hurtful to_you_; and you arrived here; as it were, on fire with the longing to beof service. Then, on the very day of your arrival, they tell you a sadstory of an ill-used woman; they tell _you_, a knight, pure and withoutreproach, this tale of a poor woman! The same day you actually _see_her; you are attracted by her beauty, her fantastic, almost demoniacal,beauty--(I admit her beauty, of course).

  “Add to all this your nervous nature, your epilepsy, and your suddenarrival in a strange town--the day of meetings and of exciting scenes,the day of unexpected acquaintanceships, the day of sudden actions,the day of meeting with the three lovely Epanchin girls, and amongthem Aglaya--add your fatigue, your excitement; add Nastasia’ s eveningparty, and the tone of that party, and--what were you to expect ofyourself at such a moment as that?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” said the prince, once more, nodding his head, andblushing slightly. “Yes, it was so, or nearly so--I know it. Andbesides, you see, I had not slept the night before, in the train, or thenight before that, either, and I was very tired.”

  “Of course, of course, quite so; that’s what I am driving at!” continued Evgenie, excitedly. “It is as clear as possible, and mostcomprehensible, that you, in your enthusiasm, should plunge headlonginto the first chance that came of publicly airing your great idea thatyou, a prince, and a pure-living man, did not consider a woman disgracedif the sin were not her own, but that of a disgusting social libertine!Oh, heavens! it’s comprehensible enough, my dear prince, but that is notthe question, unfortunately! The question is, was there any realityand truth in your feelings? Was it nature, or nothing but intellectualenthusiasm? What do you think yourself? We are told, of course, that afar worse woman was _forgiven_, but we don’t find that she was told thatshe had done well, or that she was worthy of honour and respect! Did notyour common-sense show you what was the real state of the case, a fewmonths later? The question is now, not whether she is an innocent woman(I do not insist one way or the other--I do not wish to); but can herwhole career justify such intolerable pride, such insolent, rapaciousegotism as she has shown? Forgive me, I am too violent, perhaps, but--”

  “Yes--I dare say it is all as you say; I dare say you are quite right,” muttered the prince once more. “She is very sensitive and easily putout, of course; but still, she...”

  “She is worthy of sympathy? Is that what you wished to say, my goodfellow? But then, for the mere sake of vindicating her worthiness ofsympathy, you should not have insulted and offended a noble and generousgirl in her presence! This is a terrible exaggeration of sympathy! Howcan you love a girl, and yet so humiliate her as to throw her over forthe sake of another woman, before the very eyes of that other woman,when you have already made her a formal proposal of marriage? And you_did_ propose to her, you know; you did so before her parents and sisters.Can you be an honest man, prince, if you act so? I ask you! And did younot deceive that beautiful girl when you assured her of your love?”

  “Yes, you are quite right. Oh! I feel that I am very guilty!” saidMuishkin, in deepest distress.

  “But as if that is enough!” cried Evgenie, indignantly. “As if it isenough simply to say: ‘I know I am very guilty!’ You are to blame, andyet you persevere in evil-doing. Where was your heart, I should like toknow, your _christian heart_, all that time? Did she look as though shewere suffering less, at that moment? You saw her face--was she sufferingless than the other woman? How could you see her suffering and allow itto continue? How could you?”

  “But I did not allow it,” murmured the wretched prince.

  “How--what do you mean you didn’t allow?”

  “Upon my word, I didn’t! To this moment I don’t know how it allhappened. I--I ran after Aglaya Ivanovna, but Nastasia Philipovna felldown in a faint; and since that day they won’t let me see Aglaya--that’sall I know.”

  “It’s all the same; you ought to have run after Aglaya though the otherwas fainting.”

  “Yes, yes, I ought--but I couldn’t! She would have died--she wouldhave killed herself. You don’t know her; and I should have told Aglayaeverything afterwards--but I see, Evgenie Pavlovitch, you don’t knowall. Tell me now, why am I not allowed to see Aglaya? I should havecleared it all up, you know. Neither of them kept to the real point, yousee. I could never explain what I mean to you, but I think I could toAglaya. Oh! my God, my God! You spoke just now of Aglaya’s face at themoment when she ran away. Oh, my God! I remember it! Come along,come along--quick!” He pulled at Evgenie’s coat-sleeve nervously andexcitedly, and rose from his chair.

  “Where to?”

  “Come to Aglaya--quick, quick!”

  “But I told you she is not at Pavlofsk. And what would be the use if shewere?”

  “Oh, she’ll understand, she’ll understand!” cried the prince, claspinghis hands. “She would understand that all this is not the point--not abit the real point--it is quite foreign to the real question.”

  “How can it be foreign? You _are_ going to be married, are you not? Verywell, then you are persisting in your course. _Are_ you going to marry heror not?”

  “Yes, I shall marry her--yes.”

  “Then why is it ‘not the point’?”

  “Oh, no, it is not the point, not a bit. It makes no difference, mymarrying her--it means nothing.”

  “How ‘means nothing’? You are talking nonsense, my friend. You aremarrying the woman you love in order to secure her happiness, and Aglayasees and knows it. How can you say that it’s ‘not the point’?”

  “Her happiness? Oh, no! I am only marrying her--well, because she wishedit. It means nothing--it’s all the same. She would certainly havedied. I see now
that that marriage with Rogojin was an insane idea. Iunderstand all now that I did not understand before; and, do you know,when those two stood opposite to one another, I could not bear NastasiaPhilipovna’s face! You must know, Evgenie Pavlovitch, I have never toldanyone before--not even Aglaya--that I cannot bear Nastasia Philipovna’sface.” (He lowered his voice mysteriously as he said this.) “Youdescribed that evening at Nastasia Philipovna’s (six months since) veryaccurately just now; but there is one thing which you did not mention,and of which you took no account, because you do not know. I mean her_face_--I looked at her face, you see. Even in the morning when I saw herportrait, I felt that I could not _bear_ to look at it. Now, there’s VeraLebedeff, for instance, her eyes are quite different, you know. I’m_afraid_ of her face!” he added, with real alarm.

  “You are _afraid_ of it?”

  “Yes--she’s mad!” he whispered, growing pale.

  “Do you know this for certain?” asked Evgenie, with the greatestcuriosity.

  “Yes, for certain--quite for certain, now! I have

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