Prestuplenie i nakazanie. English

by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

  CHAPTER V

  Raskolnikov was already entering the room. He came in looking as thoughhe had the utmost difficulty not to burst out laughing again. Behind himRazumihin strode in gawky and awkward, shamefaced and red as a peony,with an utterly crestfallen and ferocious expression. His face andwhole figure really were ridiculous at that moment and amply justifiedRaskolnikov's laughter. Raskolnikov, not waiting for an introduction,bowed to Porfiry Petrovitch, who stood in the middle of the roomlooking inquiringly at them. He held out his hand and shook hands, stillapparently making desperate efforts to subdue his mirth and utter a fewwords to introduce himself. But he had no sooner succeeded in assuminga serious air and muttering something when he suddenly glanced again asthough accidentally at Razumihin, and could no longer control himself:his stifled laughter broke out the more irresistibly the more he triedto restrain it. The extraordinary ferocity with which Razumihin receivedthis "spontaneous" mirth gave the whole scene the appearance of mostgenuine fun and naturalness. Razumihin strengthened this impression asthough on purpose.

  "Fool! You fiend," he roared, waving his arm which at once struck alittle round table with an empty tea-glass on it. Everything was sentflying and crashing.

  "But why break chairs, gentlemen? You know it's a loss to the Crown,"Porfiry Petrovitch quoted gaily.

  Raskolnikov was still laughing, with his hand in Porfiry Petrovitch's,but anxious not to overdo it, awaited the right moment to put a naturalend to it. Razumihin, completely put to confusion by upsetting the tableand smashing the glass, gazed gloomily at the fragments, cursed andturned sharply to the window where he stood looking out with his backto the company with a fiercely scowling countenance, seeing nothing.Porfiry Petrovitch laughed and was ready to go on laughing, butobviously looked for explanations. Zametov had been sitting in thecorner, but he rose at the visitors' entrance and was standing inexpectation with a smile on his lips, though he looked with surprise andeven it seemed incredulity at the whole scene and at Raskolnikov with acertain embarrassment. Zametov's unexpected presence struck Raskolnikovunpleasantly.

  "I've got to think of that," he thought. "Excuse me, please," he began,affecting extreme embarrassment. "Raskolnikov."

  "Not at all, very pleasant to see you... and how pleasantly you've comein.... Why, won't he even say good-morning?" Porfiry Petrovitch noddedat Razumihin.

  "Upon my honour I don't know why he is in such a rage with me. I onlytold him as we came along that he was like Romeo... and proved it. Andthat was all, I think!"

  "Pig!" ejaculated Razumihin, without turning round.

  "There must have been very grave grounds for it, if he is so furious atthe word," Porfiry laughed.

  "Oh, you sharp lawyer!... Damn you all!" snapped Razumihin, and suddenlybursting out laughing himself, he went up to Porfiry with a morecheerful face as though nothing had happened. "That'll do! We areall fools. To come to business. This is my friend Rodion RomanovitchRaskolnikov; in the first place he has heard of you and wants to makeyour acquaintance, and secondly, he has a little matter of business withyou. Bah! Zametov, what brought you here? Have you met before? Have youknown each other long?"

  "What does this mean?" thought Raskolnikov uneasily.

  Zametov seemed taken aback, but not very much so.

  "Why, it was at your rooms we met yesterday," he said easily.

  "Then I have been spared the trouble. All last week he was begging meto introduce him to you. Porfiry and you have sniffed each other outwithout me. Where is your tobacco?"

  Porfiry Petrovitch was wearing a dressing-gown, very clean linen, andtrodden-down slippers. He was a man of about five and thirty, short,stout even to corpulence, and clean shaven. He wore his hair cut shortand had a large round head, particularly prominent at the back. Hissoft, round, rather snub-nosed face was of a sickly yellowish colour,but had a vigorous and rather ironical expression. It would have beengood-natured except for a look in the eyes, which shone with a watery,mawkish light under almost white, blinking eyelashes. The expressionof those eyes was strangely out of keeping with his somewhat womanishfigure, and gave it something far more serious than could be guessed atfirst sight.

  As soon as Porfiry Petrovitch heard that his visitor had a little matterof business with him, he begged him to sit down on the sofa and sat downhimself on the other end, waiting for him to explain his business, withthat careful and over-serious attention which is at once oppressive andembarrassing, especially to a stranger, and especially if what you arediscussing is in your opinion of far too little importance for suchexceptional solemnity. But in brief and coherent phrases Raskolnikovexplained his business clearly and exactly, and was so well satisfiedwith himself that he even succeeded in taking a good look at Porfiry.Porfiry Petrovitch did not once take his eyes off him. Razumihin,sitting opposite at the same table, listened warmly and impatiently,looking from one to the other every moment with rather excessiveinterest.

  "Fool," Raskolnikov swore to himself.

  "You have to give information to the police," Porfiry replied, with amost businesslike air, "that having learnt of this incident, that is ofthe murder, you beg to inform the lawyer in charge of the case that suchand such things belong to you, and that you desire to redeem them...or... but they will write to you."

  "That's just the point, that at the present moment," Raskolnikov triedhis utmost to feign embarrassment, "I am not quite in funds... andeven this trifling sum is beyond me... I only wanted, you see, forthe present to declare that the things are mine, and that when I havemoney...."

  "That's no matter," answered Porfiry Petrovitch, receiving hisexplanation of his pecuniary position coldly, "but you can, if youprefer, write straight to me, to say, that having been informed of thematter, and claiming such and such as your property, you beg..."

  "On an ordinary sheet of paper?" Raskolnikov interrupted eagerly, againinterested in the financial side of the question.

  "Oh, the most ordinary," and suddenly Porfiry Petrovitch looked withobvious irony at him, screwing up his eyes and, as it were, winking athim. But perhaps it was Raskolnikov's fancy, for it all lasted but amoment. There was certainly something of the sort, Raskolnikov couldhave sworn he winked at him, goodness knows why.

  "He knows," flashed through his mind like lightning.

  "Forgive my troubling you about such trifles," he went on, a littledisconcerted, "the things are only worth five roubles, but I prize themparticularly for the sake of those from whom they came to me, and I mustconfess that I was alarmed when I heard..."

  "That's why you were so much struck when I mentioned to Zossimov thatPorfiry was inquiring for everyone who had pledges!" Razumihin put inwith obvious intention.

  This was really unbearable. Raskolnikov could not help glancing at himwith a flash of vindictive anger in his black eyes, but immediatelyrecollected himself.

  "You seem to be jeering at me, brother?" he said to him, with awell-feigned irritability. "I dare say I do seem to you absurdly anxiousabout such trash; but you mustn't think me selfish or grasping for that,and these two things may be anything but trash in my eyes. I told youjust now that the silver watch, though it's not worth a cent, is theonly thing left us of my father's. You may laugh at me, but my mother ishere," he turned suddenly to Porfiry, "and if she knew," he turned againhurriedly to Razumihin, carefully making his voice tremble, "that thewatch was lost, she would be in despair! You know what women are!"

  "Not a bit of it! I didn't mean that at all! Quite the contrary!"shouted Razumihin distressed.

  "Was it right? Was it natural? Did I overdo it?" Raskolnikov askedhimself in a tremor. "Why did I say that about women?"

  "Oh, your mother is with you?" Porfiry Petrovitch inquired.

  "Yes."

  "When did she come?"

  "Last night."

  Porfiry paused as though reflecting.

  "Your things would not in any case be lost," he went on calmly andcoldly. "I have been expecting you here for some time."

  And as though
that was a matter of no importance, he carefully offeredthe ash-tray to Razumihin, who was ruthlessly scattering cigarette ashover the carpet. Raskolnikov shuddered, but Porfiry did not seem to belooking at him, and was still concerned with Razumihin's cigarette.

  "What? Expecting him? Why, did you know that he had pledges _there_?"cried Razumihin.

  Porfiry Petrovitch addressed himself to Raskolnikov.

  "Your things, the ring and the watch, were wrapped up together, and onthe paper your name was legibly written in pencil, together with thedate on which you left them with her..."

  "How observant you are!" Raskolnikov smiled awkwardly, doing his veryutmost to look him straight in the face, but he failed, and suddenlyadded:

  "I say that because I suppose there were a great many pledges... that itmust be difficult to remember them all.... But you remember them all soclearly, and... and..."

  "Stupid! Feeble!" he thought. "Why did I add that?"

  "But we know all who had pledges, and you are the only one who hasn'tcome forward," Porfiry answered with hardly perceptible irony.

  "I haven't been quite well."

  "I heard that too. I heard, indeed, that you were in great distressabout something. You look pale still."

  "I am not pale at all.... No, I am quite well," Raskolnikov snappedout rudely and angrily, completely changing his tone. His anger wasmounting, he could not repress it. "And in my anger I shall betraymyself," flashed through his mind again. "Why are they torturing me?"

  "Not quite well!" Razumihin caught him up. "What next! He wasunconscious and delirious all yesterday. Would you believe, Porfiry, assoon as our backs were turned, he dressed, though he could hardly stand,and gave us the slip and went off on a spree somewhere till midnight,delirious all the time! Would you believe it! Extraordinary!"

  "Really delirious? You don't say so!" Porfiry shook his head in awomanish way.

  "Nonsense! Don't you believe it! But you don't believe it anyway,"Raskolnikov let slip in his anger. But Porfiry Petrovitch did not seemto catch those strange words.

  "But how could you have gone out if you hadn't been delirious?"Razumihin got hot suddenly. "What did you go out for? What was theobject of it? And why on the sly? Were you in your senses when you didit? Now that all danger is over I can speak plainly."

  "I was awfully sick of them yesterday." Raskolnikov addressed Porfirysuddenly with a smile of insolent defiance, "I ran away from them totake lodgings where they wouldn't find me, and took a lot of money withme. Mr. Zametov there saw it. I say, Mr. Zametov, was I sensible ordelirious yesterday; settle our dispute."

  He could have strangled Zametov at that moment, so hateful were hisexpression and his silence to him.

  "In my opinion you talked sensibly and even artfully, but you wereextremely irritable," Zametov pronounced dryly.

  "And Nikodim Fomitch was telling me to-day," put in Porfiry Petrovitch,"that he met you very late last night in the lodging of a man who hadbeen run over."

  "And there," said Razumihin, "weren't you mad then? You gave your lastpenny to the widow for the funeral. If you wanted to help, give fifteenor twenty even, but keep three roubles for yourself at least, but heflung away all the twenty-five at once!"

  "Maybe I found a treasure somewhere and you know nothing of it? Sothat's why I was liberal yesterday.... Mr. Zametov knows I've found atreasure! Excuse us, please, for disturbing you for half an hourwith such trivialities," he said, turning to Porfiry Petrovitch, withtrembling lips. "We are boring you, aren't we?"

  "Oh no, quite the contrary, quite the contrary! If only you knew how youinterest me! It's interesting to look on and listen... and I am reallyglad you have come forward at last."

  "But you might give us some tea! My throat's dry," cried Razumihin.

  "Capital idea! Perhaps we will all keep you company. Wouldn't youlike... something more essential before tea?"

  "Get along with you!"

  Porfiry Petrovitch went out to order tea.

  Raskolnikov's thoughts were in a whirl. He was in terrible exasperation.

  "The worst of it is they don't disguise it; they don't care to stand onceremony! And how if you didn't know me at all, did you come to talkto Nikodim Fomitch about me? So they don't care to hide that they aretracking me like a pack of dogs. They simply spit in my face." He wasshaking with rage. "Come, strike me openly, don't play with me like acat with a mouse. It's hardly civil, Porfiry Petrovitch, but perhaps Iwon't allow it! I shall get up and throw the whole truth in your uglyfaces, and you'll see how I despise you." He could hardly breathe."And what if it's only my fancy? What if I am mistaken, and throughinexperience I get angry and don't keep up my nasty part? Perhaps it'sall unintentional. All their phrases are the usual ones, but there issomething about them.... It all might be said, but there is something.Why did he say bluntly, 'With her'? Why did Zametov add that I spokeartfully? Why do they speak in that tone? Yes, the tone.... Razumihinis sitting here, why does he see nothing? That innocent blockhead neverdoes see anything! Feverish again! Did Porfiry wink at me just now? Ofcourse it's nonsense! What could he wink for? Are they trying to upsetmy nerves or are they teasing me? Either it's ill fancy or they know!Even Zametov is rude.... Is Zametov rude? Zametov has changed his mind.I foresaw he would change his mind! He is at home here, while it's myfirst visit. Porfiry does not consider him a visitor; sits with his backto him. They're as thick as thieves, no doubt, over me! Not a doubt theywere talking about me before we came. Do they know about the flat? Ifonly they'd make haste! When I said that I ran away to take a flat helet it pass.... I put that in cleverly about a flat, it may be of useafterwards.... Delirious, indeed... ha-ha-ha! He knows all about lastnight! He didn't know of my mother's arrival! The hag had written thedate on in pencil! You are wrong, you won't catch me! There are nofacts... it's all supposition! You produce facts! The flat even isn't afact but delirium. I know what to say to them.... Do they know about theflat? I won't go without finding out. What did I come for? But my beingangry now, maybe is a fact! Fool, how irritable I am! Perhaps that'sright; to play the invalid.... He is feeling me. He will try to catchme. Why did I come?"

  All this flashed like lightning through his mind.

  Porfiry Petrovitch returned quickly. He became suddenly more jovial.

  "Your party yesterday, brother, has left my head rather.... And I am outof sorts altogether," he began in quite a different tone, laughing toRazumihin.

  "Was it interesting? I left you yesterday at the most interesting point.Who got the best of it?"

  "Oh, no one, of course. They got on to everlasting questions, floatedoff into space."

  "Only fancy, Rodya, what we got on to yesterday. Whether there is such athing as crime. I told you that we talked our heads off."

  "What is there strange? It's an everyday social question," Raskolnikovanswered casually.

  "The question wasn't put quite like that," observed Porfiry.

  "Not quite, that's true," Razumihin agreed at once, getting warm andhurried as usual. "Listen, Rodion, and tell us your opinion, I want tohear it. I was fighting tooth and nail with them and wanted you tohelp me. I told them you were coming.... It began with the socialistdoctrine. You know their doctrine; crime is a protest against theabnormality of the social organisation and nothing more, and nothingmore; no other causes admitted!..."

  "You are wrong there," cried Porfiry Petrovitch; he was noticeablyanimated and kept laughing as he looked at Razumihin, which made himmore excited than ever.

  "Nothing is admitted," Razumihin interrupted with heat.

  "I am not wrong. I'll show you their pamphlets. Everything with themis 'the influence of environment,' and nothing else. Their favouritephrase! From which it follows that, if society is normally organised,all crime will cease at once, since there will be nothing to protestagainst and all men will become righteous in one instant. Human natureis not taken into account, it is excluded, it's not supposed to exist!They don't recognise that humanity, developing by a historical livingprocess, wil
l become at last a normal society, but they believe that asocial system that has come out of some mathematical brain is goingto organise all humanity at once and make it just and sinless in aninstant, quicker than any living process! That's why they instinctivelydislike history, 'nothing but ugliness and stupidity in it,' and theyexplain it all as stupidity! That's why they so dislike the _living_process of life; they don't want a _living soul_! The living souldemands life, the soul won't obey the rules of mechanics, the soul is anobject of suspicion, the soul is retrograde! But what they want thoughit smells of death and can be made of India-rubber, at least is notalive, has no will, is servile and won't revolt! And it comes in the endto their reducing everything to the building of walls and the planningof rooms and passages in a phalanstery! The phalanstery is ready,indeed, but your human nature is not ready for the phalanstery--itwants life, it hasn't completed its vital process, it's too soon for thegraveyard! You can't skip over nature by logic. Logic presupposes threepossibilities, but there are millions! Cut away a million, and reduceit all to the question of comfort! That's the easiest solution of theproblem! It's seductively clear and you musn't think about it. That'sthe great thing, you mustn't think! The whole secret of life in twopages of print!"

  "Now he is off, beating the drum! Catch hold of him, do!" laughedPorfiry. "Can you imagine," he turned to Raskolnikov, "six peopleholding forth like that last night, in one room, with punch as apreliminary! No, brother, you are wrong, environment accounts for agreat deal in crime; I can assure you of that."

  "Oh, I know it does, but just tell me: a man of forty violates a childof ten; was it environment drove him to it?"

  "Well, strictly speaking, it did," Porfiry observed with noteworthygravity; "a crime of that nature may be very well ascribed to theinfluence of environment."

  Razumihin was almost in a frenzy. "Oh, if you like," he roared. "I'llprove to you that your white eyelashes may very well be ascribed to theChurch of Ivan the Great's being two hundred and fifty feet high, and Iwill prove it clearly, exactly, progressively, and even with a Liberaltendency! I undertake to! Will you bet on it?"

  "Done! Let's hear, please, how he will prove it!"

  "He is always humbugging, confound him," cried Razumihin, jumping up andgesticulating. "What's the use of talking to you? He does all thaton purpose; you don't know him, Rodion! He took their side yesterday,simply to make fools of them. And the things he said yesterday! And theywere delighted! He can keep it up for a fortnight together. Last year hepersuaded us that he was going into a monastery: he stuck to it for twomonths. Not long ago he took it into his head to declare he was goingto get married, that he had everything ready for the wedding. He orderednew clothes indeed. We all began to congratulate him. There was nobride, nothing, all pure fantasy!"

  "Ah, you are wrong! I got the clothes before. It was the new clothes infact that made me think of taking you in."

  "Are you such a good dissembler?" Raskolnikov asked carelessly.

  "You wouldn't have supposed it, eh? Wait a bit, I shall take you in,too. Ha-ha-ha! No, I'll tell you the truth. All these questions aboutcrime, environment, children, recall to my mind an article of yourswhich interested me at the time. 'On Crime'... or something of thesort, I forget the title, I read it with pleasure two months ago in the_Periodical Review_."

  "My article? In the _Periodical Review_?" Raskolnikov asked inastonishment. "I certainly did write an article upon a book six monthsago when I left the university, but I sent it to the _Weekly Review_."

  "But it came out in the _Periodical_."

  "And the _Weekly Review_ ceased to exist, so that's why it wasn'tprinted at the time."

  "That's true; but when it ceased to exist, the _Weekly Review_ wasamalgamated with the _Periodical_, and so your article appeared twomonths ago in the latter. Didn't you know?"

  Raskolnikov had not known.

  "Why, you might get some money out of them for the article! What astrange person you are! You lead such a solitary life that you knownothing of matters that concern you directly. It's a fact, I assureyou."

  "Bravo, Rodya! I knew nothing about it either!" cried Razumihin. "I'llrun to-day to the reading-room and ask for the number. Two months ago?What was the date? It doesn't matter though, I will find it. Think ofnot telling us!"

  "How did you find out that the article was mine? It's only signed withan initial."

  "I only learnt it by chance, the other day. Through the editor; I knowhim.... I was very much interested."

  "I analysed, if I remember, the psychology of a criminal before andafter the crime."

  "Yes, and you maintained that the perpetration of a crime is alwaysaccompanied by illness. Very, very original, but... it was not that partof your article that interested me so much, but an idea at the end ofthe article which I regret to say you merely suggested without workingit out clearly. There is, if you recollect, a suggestion that there arecertain persons who can... that is, not precisely are able to, but havea perfect right to commit breaches of morality and crimes, and that thelaw is not for them."

  Raskolnikov smiled at the exaggerated and intentional distortion of hisidea.

  "What? What do you mean? A right to crime? But not because of theinfluence of environment?" Razumihin inquired with some alarm even.

  "No, not exactly because of it," answered Porfiry. "In his article allmen are divided into 'ordinary' and 'extraordinary.' Ordinary men haveto live in submission, have no right to transgress the law, because,don't you see, they are ordinary. But extraordinary men have a right tocommit any crime and to transgress the law in any way, just because theyare extraordinary. That was your idea, if I am not mistaken?"

  "What do you mean? That can't be right?" Razumihin muttered inbewilderment.

  Raskolnikov smiled again. He saw the point at once, and knew where theywanted to drive him. He decided to take up the challenge.

  "That wasn't quite my contention," he began simply and modestly. "YetI admit that you have stated it almost correctly; perhaps, if you like,perfectly so." (It almost gave him pleasure to admit this.) "The onlydifference is that I don't contend that extraordinary people are alwaysbound to commit breaches of morals, as you call it. In fact, I doubtwhether such an argument could be published. I simply hinted that an'extraordinary' man has the right... that is not an official right, butan inner right to decide in his own conscience to overstep... certainobstacles, and only in case it is essential for the practical fulfilmentof his idea (sometimes, perhaps, of benefit to the whole of humanity).You say that my article isn't definite; I am ready to make it as clearas I can. Perhaps I am right in thinking you want me to; very well. Imaintain that if the discoveries of Kepler and Newton could not havebeen made known except by sacrificing the lives of one, a dozen, ahundred, or more men, Newton would have had the right, would indeed havebeen in duty-bound... to _eliminate_ the dozen or the hundred men forthe sake of making his discoveries known to the whole of humanity. Butit does not follow from that that Newton had a right to murder peopleright and left and to steal every day in the market. Then, I remember, Imaintain in my article that all... well, legislators and leaders of men,such as Lycurgus, Solon, Mahomet, Napoleon, and so on, were all withoutexception criminals, from the very fact that, making a new law, theytransgressed the ancient one, handed down from their ancestors and heldsacred by the people, and they did not stop short at bloodshed either,if that bloodshed--often of innocent persons fighting bravely in defenceof ancient law--were of use to their cause. It's remarkable, in fact,that the majority, indeed, of these benefactors and leaders of humanitywere guilty of terrible carnage. In short, I maintain that all great menor even men a little out of the common, that is to say capable of givingsome new word, must from their very nature be criminals--more or less,of course. Otherwise it's hard for them to get out of the common rut;and to remain in the common rut is what they can't submit to, from theirvery nature again, and to my mind they ought not, indeed, to submit toit. You see that there is nothing particularly new in all that. Th
esame thing has been printed and read a thousand times before. As for mydivision of people into ordinary and extraordinary, I acknowledge thatit's somewhat arbitrary, but I don't insist upon exact numbers. I onlybelieve in my leading idea that men are _in general_ divided by a lawof nature into two categories, inferior (ordinary), that is, so to say,material that serves only to reproduce its kind, and men who havethe gift or the talent to utter _a new word_. There are, of course,innumerable sub-divisions, but the distinguishing features of bothcategories are fairly well marked. The first category, generallyspeaking, are men conservative in temperament and law-abiding; they liveunder control and love to be controlled. To my thinking it is their dutyto be controlled, because that's their vocation, and there is nothinghumiliating in it for them. The second category all transgress thelaw; they are destroyers or disposed to destruction according to theircapacities. The crimes of these men are of course relative and varied;for the most part they seek in very varied ways the destruction of thepresent for the sake of the better. But if such a one is forced for thesake of his idea to step over a corpse or wade through blood, he can, Imaintain, find within himself, in his conscience, a sanction for wadingthrough blood--that depends on the idea and its dimensions, note that.It's only in that sense I speak of their right to crime in my article(you remember it began with the legal question). There's no need forsuch anxiety, however; the masses will scarcely ever admit this right,they punish them or hang them (more or less), and in doing so fulfilquite justly their conservative vocation. But the same masses set thesecriminals on a pedestal in the next generation and worship them (more orless). The first category is always the man of the present, the secondthe man of the future. The first preserve the world and people it, thesecond move the world and lead it to its goal. Each class has an equalright to exist. In fact, all have equal rights with me--and _vive laguerre eternelle_--till the New Jerusalem, of course!"

  "Then you believe in the New Jerusalem, do you?"

  "I do," Raskolnikov answered firmly; as he said these words and duringthe whole preceding tirade he kept his eyes on one spot on the carpet.

  "And... and do you believe in God? Excuse my curiosity."

  "I do," repeated Raskolnikov, raising his eyes to Porfiry.

  "And... do you believe in Lazarus' rising from the dead?"

  "I... I do. Why do you ask all this?"

  "You believe it literally?"

  "Literally."

  "You don't say so.... I asked from curiosity. Excuse me. But let usgo back to the question; they are not always executed. Some, on thecontrary..."

  "Triumph in their lifetime? Oh, yes, some attain their ends in thislife, and then..."

  "They begin executing other people?"

  "If it's necessary; indeed, for the most part they do. Your remark isvery witty."

  "Thank you. But tell me this: how do you distinguish those extraordinarypeople from the ordinary ones? Are there signs at their birth? I feelthere ought to be more exactitude, more external definition. Excuse thenatural anxiety of a practical law-abiding citizen, but couldn't theyadopt a special uniform, for instance, couldn't they wear something, bebranded in some way? For you know if confusion arises and a member ofone category imagines that he belongs to the other, begins to 'eliminateobstacles' as you so happily expressed it, then..."

  "Oh, that very often happens! That remark is wittier than the other."

  "Thank you."

  "No reason to; but take note that the mistake can only arise inthe first category, that is among the ordinary people (as I perhapsunfortunately called them). In spite of their predisposition toobedience very many of them, through a playfulness of nature, sometimesvouchsafed even to the cow, like to imagine themselves advanced people,'destroyers,' and to push themselves into the 'new movement,' andthis quite sincerely. Meanwhile the really _new_ people are very oftenunobserved by them, or even despised as reactionaries of grovellingtendencies. But I don't think there is any considerable danger here,and you really need not be uneasy for they never go very far. Of course,they might have a thrashing sometimes for letting their fancy run awaywith them and to teach them their place, but no more; in fact, eventhis isn't necessary as they castigate themselves, for they are veryconscientious: some perform this service for one another and otherschastise themselves with their own hands.... They will impose variouspublic acts of penitence upon themselves with a beautiful and edifyingeffect; in fact you've nothing to be uneasy about.... It's a law ofnature."

  "Well, you have certainly set my mind more at rest on that score; butthere's another thing worries me. Tell me, please, are there many peoplewho have the right to kill others, these extraordinary people? I amready to bow down to them, of course, but you must admit it's alarmingif there are a great many of them, eh?"

  "Oh, you needn't worry about that either," Raskolnikov went on in thesame tone. "People with new ideas, people with the faintest capacity forsaying something _new_, are extremely few in number, extraordinarilyso in fact. One thing only is clear, that the appearance of all thesegrades and sub-divisions of men must follow with unfailing regularitysome law of nature. That law, of course, is unknown at present, but I amconvinced that it exists, and one day may become known. The vast mass ofmankind is mere material, and only exists in order by some great effort,by some mysterious process, by means of some crossing of races andstocks, to bring into the world at last perhaps one man out of athousand with a spark of independence. One in ten thousand perhaps--Ispeak roughly, approximately--is born with some independence, and withstill greater independence one in a hundred thousand. The man of geniusis one of millions, and the great geniuses, the crown of humanity,appear on earth perhaps one in many thousand millions. In fact I havenot peeped into the retort in which all this takes place. But therecertainly is and must be a definite law, it cannot be a matter ofchance."

  "Why, are you both joking?" Razumihin cried at last. "There you sit,making fun of one another. Are you serious, Rodya?"

  Raskolnikov raised his pale and almost mournful face and made no reply.And the unconcealed, persistent, nervous, and _discourteous_ sarcasm ofPorfiry seemed strange to Razumihin beside that quiet and mournful face.

  "Well, brother, if you are really serious... You are right, of course,in saying that it's not new, that it's like what we've read and heard athousand times already; but what is really original in all this, and isexclusively your own, to my horror, is that you sanction bloodshed_in the name of conscience_, and, excuse my saying so, with suchfanaticism.... That, I take it, is the point of your article. But thatsanction of bloodshed _by conscience_ is to my mind... more terriblethan the official, legal sanction of bloodshed...."

  "You are quite right, it is more terrible," Porfiry agreed.

  "Yes, you must have exaggerated! There is some mistake, I shall read it.You can't think that! I shall read it."

  "All that is not in the article, there's only a hint of it," saidRaskolnikov.

  "Yes, yes." Porfiry couldn't sit still. "Your attitude to crime ispretty clear to me now, but... excuse me for my impertinence (I amreally ashamed to be worrying you like this), you see, you've removedmy anxiety as to the two grades getting mixed, but... there are variouspractical possibilities that make me uneasy! What if some man or youthimagines that he is a Lycurgus or Mahomet--a future one of course--andsuppose he begins to remove all obstacles.... He has some greatenterprise before him and needs money for it... and tries to get it...do you see?"

  Zametov gave a sudden guffaw in his corner. Raskolnikov did not evenraise his eyes to him.

  "I must admit," he went on calmly, "that such cases certainly mustarise. The vain and foolish are particularly apt to fall into thatsnare; young people especially."

  "Yes, you see. Well then?"

  "What then?" Raskolnikov smiled in reply; "that's not my fault. So it isand so it always will be. He said just now (he nodded at Razumihin)that I sanction bloodshed. Society is too well protected by prisons,banishment, criminal investigators, penal servitude. There's no
need tobe uneasy. You have but to catch the thief."

  "And what if we do catch him?"

  "Then he gets what he deserves."

  "You are certainly logical. But what of his conscience?"

  "Why do you care about that?"

  "Simply from humanity."

  "If he has a conscience he will suffer for his mistake. That will be hispunishment--as well as the prison."

  "But the real geniuses," asked Razumihin frowning, "those who havethe right to murder? Oughtn't they to suffer at all even for the bloodthey've shed?"

  "Why the word _ought_? It's not a matter of permission or prohibition.He will suffer if he is sorry for his victim. Pain and suffering arealways inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. Thereally great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth," he addeddreamily, not in the tone of the conversation.

  He raised his eyes, looked earnestly at them all, smiled, and took hiscap. He was too quiet by comparison with his manner at his entrance, andhe felt this. Everyone got up.

  "Well, you may abuse me, be angry with me if you like," PorfiryPetrovitch began again, "but I can't resist. Allow me one littlequestion (I know I am troubling you). There is just one little notion Iwant to express, simply that I may not forget it."

  "Very good, tell me your little notion," Raskolnikov stood waiting, paleand grave before him.

  "Well, you see... I really don't know how to express it properly....It's a playful, psychological idea.... When you were writing yourarticle, surely you couldn't have helped, he-he! fancying yourself...just a little, an 'extraordinary' man, uttering a _new word_ in yoursense.... That's so, isn't it?"

  "Quite possibly," Raskolnikov answered contemptuously.

  Razumihin made a movement.

  "And, if so, could you bring yourself in case of worldly difficultiesand hardship or for some service to humanity--to overstep obstacles?...For instance, to rob and murder?"

  And again he winked with his left eye, and laughed noiselessly just asbefore.

  "If I did I certainly should not tell you," Raskolnikov answered withdefiant and haughty contempt.

  "No, I was only interested on account of your article, from a literarypoint of view..."

  "Foo! how obvious and insolent that is!" Raskolnikov thought withrepulsion.

  "Allow me to observe," he answered dryly, "that I don't consider myselfa Mahomet or a Napoleon, nor any personage of that kind, and not beingone of them I cannot tell you how I should act."

  "Oh, come, don't we all think ourselves Napoleons now in Russia?"Porfiry Petrovitch said with alarming familiarity.

  Something peculiar betrayed itself in the very intonation of his voice.

  "Perhaps it was one of these future Napoleons who did for AlyonaIvanovna last week?" Zametov blurted out from the corner.

  Raskolnikov did not speak, but looked firmly and intently at Porfiry.Razumihin was scowling gloomily. He seemed before this to be noticingsomething. He looked angrily around. There was a minute of gloomysilence. Raskolnikov turned to go.

  "Are you going already?" Porfiry said amiably, holding out his hand withexcessive politeness. "Very, very glad of your acquaintance. As for yourrequest, have no uneasiness, write just as I told you, or, better still,come to me there yourself in a day or two... to-morrow, indeed. I shallbe there at eleven o'clock for certain. We'll arrange it all; we'll havea talk. As one of the last to be _there_, you might perhaps be able totell us something," he added with a most good-natured expression.

  "You want to cross-examine me officially in due form?" Raskolnikov askedsharply.

  "Oh, why? That's not necessary for the present. You misunderstand me.I lose no opportunity, you see, and... I've talked with all who hadpledges.... I obtained evidence from some of them, and you are thelast.... Yes, by the way," he cried, seemingly suddenly delighted, "Ijust remember, what was I thinking of?" he turned to Razumihin, "youwere talking my ears off about that Nikolay... of course, I know, I knowvery well," he turned to Raskolnikov, "that the fellow is innocent, butwhat is one to do? We had to trouble Dmitri too.... This is the point,this is all: when you went up the stairs it was past seven, wasn't it?"

  "Yes," answered Raskolnikov, with an unpleasant sensation at the verymoment he spoke that he need not have said it.

  "Then when you went upstairs between seven and eight, didn't you see ina flat that stood open on a second storey, do you remember? two workmenor at least one of them? They were painting there, didn't you noticethem? It's very, very important for them."

  "Painters? No, I didn't see them," Raskolnikov answered slowly, asthough ransacking his memory, while at the same instant he was rackingevery nerve, almost swooning with anxiety to conjecture as quickly aspossible where the trap lay and not to overlook anything. "No, I didn'tsee them, and I don't think I noticed a flat like that open.... But onthe fourth storey" (he had mastered the trap now and was triumphant)"I remember now that someone was moving out of the flat opposite AlyonaIvanovna's.... I remember... I remember it clearly. Some porterswere carrying out a sofa and they squeezed me against the wall. Butpainters... no, I don't remember that there were any painters, and Idon't think that there was a flat open anywhere, no, there wasn't."

  "What do you mean?" Razumihin shouted suddenly, as though he hadreflected and realised. "Why, it was on the day of the murder thepainters were at work, and he was there three days before? What are youasking?"

  "Foo! I have muddled it!" Porfiry slapped himself on the forehead."Deuce take it! This business is turning my brain!" he addressedRaskolnikov somewhat apologetically. "It would be such a great thing forus to find out whether anyone had seen them between seven and eight atthe flat, so I fancied you could perhaps have told us something.... Iquite muddled it."

  "Then you should be more careful," Razumihin observed grimly.

  The last words were uttered in the passage. Porfiry Petrovitch saw themto the door with excessive politeness.

  They went out into the street gloomy and sullen, and for some steps theydid not say a word. Raskolnikov drew a deep breath.