you know, this nobility of mind exists in adream, if one may put it so? It never appears in practice or deed. Now,why is that? I can never understand.”
“Do not despair. I think we may say without fear of deceiving ourselves,that you have now given a fairly exact account of your life. I, atleast, think it would be impossible to add much to what you have justtold me.”
“Impossible?” cried Keller, almost pityingly. “Oh prince, how little youreally seem to understand human nature!”
“Is there really much more to be added?” asked the prince, with mildsurprise. “Well, what is it you really want of me? Speak out; tell mewhy you came to make your confession to me?”
“What did I want? Well, to begin with, it is good to meet a man likeyou. It is a pleasure to talk over my faults with you. I know you forone of the best of men... and then... then...”
He hesitated, and appeared so much embarrassed that the prince helpedhim out.
“Then you wanted me to lend you money?”
The words were spoken in a grave tone, and even somewhat shyly.
Keller started, gave an astonished look at the speaker, and thumped thetable with his fist.
“Well, prince, that’s enough to knock me down! It astounds me! Here youare, as simple and innocent as a knight of the golden age, and yet...yet... you read a man’s soul like a psychologist! Now, do explain it tome, prince, because I... I really do not understand!... Of course, myaim was to borrow money all along, and you... you asked the questionas if there was nothing blameable in it--as if you thought it quitenatural.”
“Yes... from you it is quite natural.”
“And you are not offended?”
“Why should I be offended?”
“Well, just listen, prince. I remained here last evening, partly becauseI have a great admiration for the French archbishop Bourdaloue. Ienjoyed a discussion over him till three o’clock in the morning, withLebedeff; and then... then--I swear by all I hold sacred that I amtelling you the truth--then I wished to develop my soul in this frankand heartfelt confession to you. This was my thought as I was sobbingmyself to sleep at dawn. Just as I was losing consciousness, tears inmy soul, tears on my face (I remember how I lay there sobbing), an ideafrom hell struck me. ‘Why not, after confessing, borrow money from him?’You see, this confession was a kind of masterstroke; I intended to useit as a means to your good grace and favour--and then--then I meant towalk off with a hundred and fifty roubles. Now, do you not call thatbase?”
“It is hardly an exact statement of the case,” said the prince in reply.“You have confused your motives and ideas, as I need scarcely say toooften happens to myself. I can assure you, Keller, I reproach myselfbitterly for it sometimes. When you were talking just now I seemed to belistening to something about myself. At times I have imagined that allmen were the same,” he continued earnestly, for he appeared to be muchinterested in the conversation, “and that consoled me in a certaindegree, for a _double_ motive is a thing most difficult to fight against.I have tried, and I know. God knows whence they arise, these ideas thatyou speak of as base. I fear these double motives more than ever justnow, but I am not your judge, and in my opinion it is going too far togive the name of baseness to it--what do you think? You were goingto employ your tears as a ruse in order to borrow money, but you alsosay--in fact, you have sworn to the fact--that independently of thisyour confession was made with an honourable motive. As for the money,you want it for drink, do you not? After your confession, that isweakness, of course; but, after all, how can anyone give up a bad habitat a moment’s notice? It is impossible. What can we do? It is best, Ithink, to leave the matter to your own conscience. How does it seem toyou?” As he concluded the prince looked curiously at Keller; evidentlythis problem of double motives had often been considered by him before.
“Well, how anybody can call you an idiot after that, is more than I canunderstand!” cried the boxer.
The prince reddened slightly.
“Bourdaloue, the archbishop, would not have spared a man like me,” Keller continued, “but you, you have judged me with humanity. To showhow grateful I am, and as a punishment, I will not accept a hundred andfifty roubles. Give me twenty-five--that will be enough; it is all Ireally need, for a fortnight at least. I will not ask you for more fora fortnight. I should like to have given Agatha a present, but she doesnot really deserve it. Oh, my dear prince, God bless you!”
At this moment Lebedeff appeared, having just arrived from Petersburg.He frowned when he saw the twenty-five rouble note in Keller’s hand, butthe latter, having got the money, went away at once. Lebedeff began toabuse him.
“You are unjust; I found him sincerely repentant,” observed the prince,after listening for a time.
“What is the good of repentance like that? It is the same exactly asmine yesterday, when I said, ‘I am base, I am base,’--words, and nothingmore!”
“Then they were only words on your part? I thought, on the contrary...”
“Well, I don’t mind telling you the truth--you only! Because you seethrough a man somehow. Words and actions, truth and falsehood, are alljumbled up together in me, and yet I am perfectly sincere. I feel thedeepest repentance, believe it or not, as you choose; but words and liescome out in the infernal craving to get the better of other people.It is always there--the notion of cheating people, and of using myrepentant tears to my own advantage! I assure you this is the truth,prince! I would not tell any other man for the world! He would laugh andjeer at me--but you, you judge a man humanely.”
“Why, Keller said the same thing to me nearly word for word a fewminutes ago!” cried Muishkin. “And you both seem inclined to boast aboutit! You astonish me, but I think he is more sincere than you, for youmake a regular trade of it. Oh, don’t put on that pathetic expression,and don’t put your hand on your heart! Have you anything to say to me?You have not come for nothing...”
Lebedeff grinned and wriggled.
“I have been waiting all day for you, because I want to ask you aquestion; and, for once in your life, please tell me the truth at once.Had you anything to do with that affair of the carriage yesterday?”
Lebedeff began to grin again, rubbed his hands, sneezed, but spoke not aword in reply.
“I see you had something to do with it.”
“Indirectly, quite indirectly! I am speaking the truth--I am indeed!I merely told a certain person that I had people in my house, and thatsuch and such personages might be found among them.”
“I am aware that you sent your son to that house--he told me so himselfjust now, but what is this intrigue?” said the prince, impatiently.
“It is not my intrigue!” cried Lebedeff, waving his hand.
“It was engineered by other people, and is, properly speaking, rather afantasy than an intrigue!”
“But what is it all about? Tell me, for Heaven’s sake! Cannot youunderstand how nearly it touches me? Why are they blackening EvgeniePavlovitch’s reputation?”
Lebedeff grimaced and wriggled again.
“Prince!” said he. “Excellency! You won’t let me tell you the wholetruth; I have tried to explain; more than once I have begun, but youhave not allowed me to go on...”
The prince gave no answer, and sat deep in thought. Evidently he wasstruggling to decide.
“Very well! Tell me the truth,” he said, dejectedly.
“Aglaya Ivanovna...” began Lebedeff, promptly.
“Be silent! At once!” interrupted the prince, red with indignation, andperhaps with shame, too. “It is impossible and absurd! All that has beeninvented by you, or fools like you! Let me never hear you say a wordagain on that subject!”
Late in the evening Colia came in with a whole budget of Petersburg andPavlofsk news. He did not dwell much on the Petersburg part of it, whichconsisted chiefly of intelligence about his friend Hippolyte, but passedquickly to the Pavlofsk tidings. He had gone straight to the Epanchins’from the station.
“There’s the deuce and all going on there!”
he said. “First of all aboutthe row last night, and I think there must be something new as well,though I didn’t like to ask. Not a word about _you_, prince, the wholetime! The most interesting fact was that Aglaya had been quarrellingwith her people about Gania. Colia did not know any details, except thatit had been a terrible quarrel! Also Evgenie Pavlovitch had called, andmet with an excellent reception all round. And another curious thing:Mrs. Epanchin was so angry that she called Varia to her--Varia wastalking to the girls--and turned her out of the house ‘once for all’ shesaid. I heard it from Varia herself--Mrs. Epanchin was quite polite,but firm; and when Varia said good-bye to the girls, she told themnothing about it, and they didn’t know they were saying goodbye for thelast time. I’m sorry for Varia, and for Gania too; he isn’t half a badfellow, in spite of his faults, and I shall never forgive myself for notliking him before! I don’t know whether I ought to continue to go to theEpanchins’ now,” concluded Colia--“I like to be quite independent ofothers, and of other people’s quarrels if I can; but I must think overit.”
“I don’t think you need break your heart over