CHAPTER IV

  "You know perhaps--yes, I told you myself," began Svidrigailov, "thatI was in the debtors' prison here, for an immense sum, and had notany expectation of being able to pay it. There's no need to go intoparticulars how Marfa Petrovna bought me out; do you know to what apoint of insanity a woman can sometimes love? She was an honest woman,and very sensible, although completely uneducated. Would you believethat this honest and jealous woman, after many scenes of hysterics andreproaches, condescended to enter into a kind of contract with me whichshe kept throughout our married life? She was considerably older thanI, and besides, she always kept a clove or something in her mouth. Therewas so much swinishness in my soul and honesty too, of a sort, as totell her straight out that I couldn't be absolutely faithful to her.This confession drove her to frenzy, but yet she seems in a way to haveliked my brutal frankness. She thought it showed I was unwilling todeceive her if I warned her like this beforehand and for a jealouswoman, you know, that's the first consideration. After many tears anunwritten contract was drawn up between us: first, that I would neverleave Marfa Petrovna and would always be her husband; secondly, that Iwould never absent myself without her permission; thirdly, that I wouldnever set up a permanent mistress; fourthly, in return for this, MarfaPetrovna gave me a free hand with the maidservants, but only with hersecret knowledge; fifthly, God forbid my falling in love with a woman ofour class; sixthly, in case I--which God forbid--should be visited bya great serious passion I was bound to reveal it to Marfa Petrovna. Onthis last score, however, Marfa Petrovna was fairly at ease. She was asensible woman and so she could not help looking upon me as a dissoluteprofligate incapable of real love. But a sensible woman and a jealouswoman are two very different things, and that's where the troublecame in. But to judge some people impartially we must renounce certainpreconceived opinions and our habitual attitude to the ordinary peopleabout us. I have reason to have faith in your judgment rather thanin anyone's. Perhaps you have already heard a great deal that wasridiculous and absurd about Marfa Petrovna. She certainly had some veryridiculous ways, but I tell you frankly that I feel really sorry for theinnumerable woes of which I was the cause. Well, and that's enough, Ithink, by way of a decorous _oraison funebre_ for the most tender wifeof a most tender husband. When we quarrelled, I usually held my tongueand did not irritate her and that gentlemanly conduct rarely failed toattain its object, it influenced her, it pleased her, indeed. These weretimes when she was positively proud of me. But your sister she couldn'tput up with, anyway. And however she came to risk taking such abeautiful creature into her house as a governess. My explanation is thatMarfa Petrovna was an ardent and impressionable woman and simply fellin love herself--literally fell in love--with your sister. Well, littlewonder--look at Avdotya Romanovna! I saw the danger at the first glanceand what do you think, I resolved not to look at her even. But AvdotyaRomanovna herself made the first step, would you believe it? Would youbelieve it too that Marfa Petrovna was positively angry with me at firstfor my persistent silence about your sister, for my careless receptionof her continual adoring praises of Avdotya Romanovna. I don't knowwhat it was she wanted! Well, of course, Marfa Petrovna told AvdotyaRomanovna every detail about me. She had the unfortunate habit oftelling literally everyone all our family secrets and continuallycomplaining of me; how could she fail to confide in such a delightfulnew friend? I expect they talked of nothing else but me and no doubtAvdotya Romanovna heard all those dark mysterious rumours that werecurrent about me.... I don't mind betting that you too have heardsomething of the sort already?"

  "I have. Luzhin charged you with having caused the death of a child. Isthat true?"

  "Don't refer to those vulgar tales, I beg," said Svidrigailov withdisgust and annoyance. "If you insist on wanting to know about all thatidiocy, I will tell you one day, but now..."

  "I was told too about some footman of yours in the country whom youtreated badly."

  "I beg you to drop the subject," Svidrigailov interrupted again withobvious impatience.

  "Was that the footman who came to you after death to fill your pipe?...you told me about it yourself." Raskolnikov felt more and moreirritated.

  Svidrigailov looked at him attentively and Raskolnikov fancied he caughta flash of spiteful mockery in that look. But Svidrigailov restrainedhimself and answered very civilly:

  "Yes, it was. I see that you, too, are extremely interested and shallfeel it my duty to satisfy your curiosity at the first opportunity. Uponmy soul! I see that I really might pass for a romantic figure withsome people. Judge how grateful I must be to Marfa Petrovna for havingrepeated to Avdotya Romanovna such mysterious and interesting gossipabout me. I dare not guess what impression it made on her, but in anycase it worked in my interests. With all Avdotya Romanovna's naturalaversion and in spite of my invariably gloomy and repellent aspect--shedid at least feel pity for me, pity for a lost soul. And if once agirl's heart is moved to _pity_, it's more dangerous than anything. Sheis bound to want to 'save him,' to bring him to his senses, and lifthim up and draw him to nobler aims, and restore him to new life andusefulness--well, we all know how far such dreams can go. I saw at oncethat the bird was flying into the cage of herself. And I too made ready.I think you are frowning, Rodion Romanovitch? There's no need. As youknow, it all ended in smoke. (Hang it all, what a lot I am drinking!)Do you know, I always, from the very beginning, regretted that it wasn'tyour sister's fate to be born in the second or third century A.D., asthe daughter of a reigning prince or some governor or pro-consul in AsiaMinor. She would undoubtedly have been one of those who would enduremartyrdom and would have smiled when they branded her bosom with hotpincers. And she would have gone to it of herself. And in the fourth orfifth century she would have walked away into the Egyptian desert andwould have stayed there thirty years living on roots and ecstasies andvisions. She is simply thirsting to face some torture for someone, andif she can't get her torture, she'll throw herself out of a window. I'veheard something of a Mr. Razumihin--he's said to be a sensible fellow;his surname suggests it, indeed. He's probably a divinity student. Well,he'd better look after your sister! I believe I understand her, and I amproud of it. But at the beginning of an acquaintance, as you know, oneis apt to be more heedless and stupid. One doesn't see clearly. Hang itall, why is she so handsome? It's not my fault. In fact, it began onmy side with a most irresistible physical desire. Avdotya Romanovna isawfully chaste, incredibly and phenomenally so. Take note, I tell youthis about your sister as a fact. She is almost morbidly chaste, inspite of her broad intelligence, and it will stand in her way. Therehappened to be a girl in the house then, Parasha, a black-eyedwench, whom I had never seen before--she had just come from anothervillage--very pretty, but incredibly stupid: she burst into tears,wailed so that she could be heard all over the place and caused scandal.One day after dinner Avdotya Romanovna followed me into an avenue inthe garden and with flashing eyes _insisted_ on my leaving poor Parashaalone. It was almost our first conversation by ourselves. I, of course,was only too pleased to obey her wishes, tried to appear disconcerted,embarrassed, in fact played my part not badly. Then came interviews,mysterious conversations, exhortations, entreaties, supplications, eventears--would you believe it, even tears? Think what the passion forpropaganda will bring some girls to! I, of course, threw it all onmy destiny, posed as hungering and thirsting for light, and finallyresorted to the most powerful weapon in the subjection of thefemale heart, a weapon which never fails one. It's the well-knownresource--flattery. Nothing in the world is harder than speaking thetruth and nothing easier than flattery. If there's the hundredth partof a false note in speaking the truth, it leads to a discord, and thatleads to trouble. But if all, to the last note, is false in flattery, itis just as agreeable, and is heard not without satisfaction. It may bea coarse satisfaction, but still a satisfaction. And however coarse theflattery, at least half will be sure to seem true. That's so for allstages of development and classes of society. A vestal virgin might beseduced by flattery. I ca
n never remember without laughter how I onceseduced a lady who was devoted to her husband, her children, and herprinciples. What fun it was and how little trouble! And the lady reallyhad principles--of her own, anyway. All my tactics lay in simply beingutterly annihilated and prostrate before her purity. I flattered hershamelessly, and as soon as I succeeded in getting a pressure ofthe hand, even a glance from her, I would reproach myself for havingsnatched it by force, and would declare that she had resisted, so thatI could never have gained anything but for my being so unprincipled.I maintained that she was so innocent that she could not foresee mytreachery, and yielded to me unconsciously, unawares, and so on. Infact, I triumphed, while my lady remained firmly convinced that she wasinnocent, chaste, and faithful to all her duties and obligations andhad succumbed quite by accident. And how angry she was with me when Iexplained to her at last that it was my sincere conviction that she wasjust as eager as I. Poor Marfa Petrovna was awfully weak on the side offlattery, and if I had only cared to, I might have had all her propertysettled on me during her lifetime. (I am drinking an awful lot of winenow and talking too much.) I hope you won't be angry if I mention nowthat I was beginning to produce the same effect on Avdotya Romanovna.But I was stupid and impatient and spoiled it all. Avdotya Romanovna hadseveral times--and one time in particular--been greatly displeased bythe expression of my eyes, would you believe it? There was sometimes alight in them which frightened her and grew stronger and stronger andmore unguarded till it was hateful to her. No need to go into detail,but we parted. There I acted stupidly again. I fell to jeering in thecoarsest way at all such propaganda and efforts to convert me; Parashacame on to the scene again, and not she alone; in fact there was atremendous to-do. Ah, Rodion Romanovitch, if you could only see how yoursister's eyes can flash sometimes! Never mind my being drunk at thismoment and having had a whole glass of wine. I am speaking the truth.I assure you that this glance has haunted my dreams; the very rustle ofher dress was more than I could stand at last. I really began to thinkthat I might become epileptic. I could never have believed that I couldbe moved to such a frenzy. It was essential, indeed, to be reconciled,but by then it was impossible. And imagine what I did then! To whata pitch of stupidity a man can be brought by frenzy! Never undertakeanything in a frenzy, Rodion Romanovitch. I reflected that AvdotyaRomanovna was after all a beggar (ach, excuse me, that's not the word...but does it matter if it expresses the meaning?), that she lived byher work, that she had her mother and you to keep (ach, hang it, youare frowning again), and I resolved to offer her all my money--thirtythousand roubles I could have realised then--if she would run away withme here, to Petersburg. Of course I should have vowed eternal love,rapture, and so on. Do you know, I was so wild about her at that timethat if she had told me to poison Marfa Petrovna or to cut her throatand to marry herself, it would have been done at once! But it ended inthe catastrophe of which you know already. You can fancy how frantic Iwas when I heard that Marfa Petrovna had got hold of that scoundrellyattorney, Luzhin, and had almost made a match between them--which wouldreally have been just the same thing as I was proposing. Wouldn't it?Wouldn't it? I notice that you've begun to be very attentive... youinteresting young man...."

  Svidrigailov struck the table with his fist impatiently. He was flushed.Raskolnikov saw clearly that the glass or glass and a half of champagnethat he had sipped almost unconsciously was affecting him--and heresolved to take advantage of the opportunity. He felt very suspiciousof Svidrigailov.

  "Well, after what you have said, I am fully convinced that you havecome to Petersburg with designs on my sister," he said directly toSvidrigailov, in order to irritate him further.

  "Oh, nonsense," said Svidrigailov, seeming to rouse himself. "Why, Itold you... besides your sister can't endure me."

  "Yes, I am certain that she can't, but that's not the point."

  "Are you so sure that she can't?" Svidrigailov screwed up his eyes andsmiled mockingly. "You are right, she doesn't love me, but you cannever be sure of what has passed between husband and wife or lover andmistress. There's always a little corner which remains a secret tothe world and is only known to those two. Will you answer for it thatAvdotya Romanovna regarded me with aversion?"

  "From some words you've dropped, I notice that you still havedesigns--and of course evil ones--on Dounia and mean to carry them outpromptly."

  "What, have I dropped words like that?" Svidrigailov asked in naivedismay, taking not the slightest notice of the epithet bestowed on hisdesigns.

  "Why, you are dropping them even now. Why are you so frightened? Whatare you so afraid of now?"

  "Me--afraid? Afraid of you? You have rather to be afraid of me, _cherami_. But what nonsense.... I've drunk too much though, I see that. Iwas almost saying too much again. Damn the wine! Hi! there, water!"

  He snatched up the champagne bottle and flung it without ceremony out ofthe window. Philip brought the water.

  "That's all nonsense!" said Svidrigailov, wetting a towel and putting itto his head. "But I can answer you in one word and annihilate all yoursuspicions. Do you know that I am going to get married?"

  "You told me so before."

  "Did I? I've forgotten. But I couldn't have told you so for certain forI had not even seen my betrothed; I only meant to. But now I reallyhave a betrothed and it's a settled thing, and if it weren't that I havebusiness that can't be put off, I would have taken you to see themat once, for I should like to ask your advice. Ach, hang it, only tenminutes left! See, look at the watch. But I must tell you, for it's aninteresting story, my marriage, in its own way. Where are you off to?Going again?"

  "No, I'm not going away now."

  "Not at all? We shall see. I'll take you there, I'll show you mybetrothed, only not now. For you'll soon have to be off. You have to goto the right and I to the left. Do you know that Madame Resslich, thewoman I am lodging with now, eh? I know what you're thinking, that she'sthe woman whose girl they say drowned herself in the winter. Come, areyou listening? She arranged it all for me. You're bored, she said,you want something to fill up your time. For, you know, I am a gloomy,depressed person. Do you think I'm light-hearted? No, I'm gloomy. I dono harm, but sit in a corner without speaking a word for three days at atime. And that Resslich is a sly hussy, I tell you. I know what she hasgot in her mind; she thinks I shall get sick of it, abandon my wife anddepart, and she'll get hold of her and make a profit out of her--in ourclass, of course, or higher. She told me the father was a broken-downretired official, who has been sitting in a chair for the last threeyears with his legs paralysed. The mamma, she said, was a sensiblewoman. There is a son serving in the provinces, but he doesn't help;there is a daughter, who is married, but she doesn't visit them. Andthey've two little nephews on their hands, as though their own childrenwere not enough, and they've taken from school their youngest daughter,a girl who'll be sixteen in another month, so that then she can bemarried. She was for me. We went there. How funny it was! I presentmyself--a landowner, a widower, of a well-known name, with connections,with a fortune. What if I am fifty and she is not sixteen? Who thinksof that? But it's fascinating, isn't it? It is fascinating, ha-ha! Youshould have seen how I talked to the papa and mamma. It was worth payingto have seen me at that moment. She comes in, curtseys, you can fancy,still in a short frock--an unopened bud! Flushing like a sunset--she hadbeen told, no doubt. I don't know how you feel about female faces, butto my mind these sixteen years, these childish eyes, shyness and tearsof bashfulness are better than beauty; and she is a perfect littlepicture, too. Fair hair in little curls, like a lamb's, full little rosylips, tiny feet, a charmer!... Well, we made friends. I told them I wasin a hurry owing to domestic circumstances, and the next day, that isthe day before yesterday, we were betrothed. When I go now I take her onmy knee at once and keep her there.... Well, she flushes like a sunsetand I kiss her every minute. Her mamma of course impresses on her thatthis is her husband and that this must be so. It's simply delicious! Thepresent betrothed condition is perhaps better th
an marriage. Here youhave what is called _la nature et la verite_, ha-ha! I've talked to hertwice, she is far from a fool. Sometimes she steals a look at me thatpositively scorches me. Her face is like Raphael's Madonna. You know,the Sistine Madonna's face has something fantastic in it, the faceof mournful religious ecstasy. Haven't you noticed it? Well, she'ssomething in that line. The day after we'd been betrothed, I bought herpresents to the value of fifteen hundred roubles--a set of diamonds andanother of pearls and a silver dressing-case as large as this, with allsorts of things in it, so that even my Madonna's face glowed. I sat heron my knee, yesterday, and I suppose rather too unceremoniously--sheflushed crimson and the tears started, but she didn't want to show it.We were left alone, she suddenly flung herself on my neck (for the firsttime of her own accord), put her little arms round me, kissed me, andvowed that she would be an obedient, faithful, and good wife, would makeme happy, would devote all her life, every minute of her life, wouldsacrifice everything, everything, and that all she asks in return ismy _respect_, and that she wants 'nothing, nothing more from me, nopresents.' You'll admit that to hear such a confession, alone, from anangel of sixteen in a muslin frock, with little curls, with a flushof maiden shyness in her cheeks and tears of enthusiasm in her eyes israther fascinating! Isn't it fascinating? It's worth paying for, isn'tit? Well... listen, we'll go to see my betrothed, only not just now!"

  "The fact is this monstrous difference in age and development excitesyour sensuality! Will you really make such a marriage?"

  "Why, of course. Everyone thinks of himself, and he lives most gaily whoknows best how to deceive himself. Ha-ha! But why are you so keen aboutvirtue? Have mercy on me, my good friend. I am a sinful man. Ha-ha-ha!"

  "But you have provided for the children of Katerina Ivanovna. Though...though you had your own reasons.... I understand it all now."

  "I am always fond of children, very fond of them," laughed Svidrigailov."I can tell you one curious instance of it. The first day I came here Ivisited various haunts, after seven years I simply rushed at them. Youprobably notice that I am not in a hurry to renew acquaintance with myold friends. I shall do without them as long as I can. Do you know, whenI was with Marfa Petrovna in the country, I was haunted by the thoughtof these places where anyone who knows his way about can find a greatdeal. Yes, upon my soul! The peasants have vodka, the educated youngpeople, shut out from activity, waste themselves in impossible dreamsand visions and are crippled by theories; Jews have sprung up and areamassing money, and all the rest give themselves up to debauchery. Fromthe first hour the town reeked of its familiar odours. I chanced to bein a frightful den--I like my dens dirty--it was a dance, so called, andthere was a _cancan_ such as I never saw in my day. Yes, there youhave progress. All of a sudden I saw a little girl of thirteen, nicelydressed, dancing with a specialist in that line, with another one_vis-a-vis_. Her mother was sitting on a chair by the wall. You can'tfancy what a _cancan_ that was! The girl was ashamed, blushed, atlast felt insulted, and began to cry. Her partner seized her and beganwhirling her round and performing before her; everyone laughed and--Ilike your public, even the _cancan_ public--they laughed and shouted,'Serves her right--serves her right! Shouldn't bring children!' Well,it's not my business whether that consoling reflection was logical ornot. I at once fixed on my plan, sat down by the mother, and began bysaying that I too was a stranger and that people here were ill-bred andthat they couldn't distinguish decent folks and treat them with respect,gave her to understand that I had plenty of money, offered to take themhome in my carriage. I took them home and got to know them. They werelodging in a miserable little hole and had only just arrived from thecountry. She told me that she and her daughter could only regard myacquaintance as an honour. I found out that they had nothing of theirown and had come to town upon some legal business. I proffered myservices and money. I learnt that they had gone to the dancing saloonby mistake, believing that it was a genuine dancing class. I offered toassist in the young girl's education in French and dancing. My offer wasaccepted with enthusiasm as an honour--and we are still friendly.... Ifyou like, we'll go and see them, only not just now."

  "Stop! Enough of your vile, nasty anecdotes, depraved vile, sensualman!"

  "Schiller, you are a regular Schiller! _O la vertu va-t-elle se nicher?_But you know I shall tell you these things on purpose, for the pleasureof hearing your outcries!"

  "I dare say. I can see I am ridiculous myself," muttered Raskolnikovangrily.

  Svidrigailov laughed heartily; finally he called Philip, paid his bill,and began getting up.

  "I say, but I am drunk, _assez cause_," he said. "It's been a pleasure."

  "I should rather think it must be a pleasure!" cried Raskolnikov,getting up. "No doubt it is a pleasure for a worn-out profligate todescribe such adventures with a monstrous project of the same sort inhis mind--especially under such circumstances and to such a man asme.... It's stimulating!"

  "Well, if you come to that," Svidrigailov answered, scrutinisingRaskolnikov with some surprise, "if you come to that, you are a thoroughcynic yourself. You've plenty to make you so, anyway. You can understanda great deal... and you can do a great deal too. But enough. I sincerelyregret not having had more talk with you, but I shan't lose sight ofyou.... Only wait a bit."

  Svidrigailov walked out of the restaurant. Raskolnikov walked out afterhim. Svidrigailov was not however very drunk, the wine had affected himfor a moment, but it was passing off every minute. He was preoccupiedwith something of importance and was frowning. He was apparently excitedand uneasy in anticipation of something. His manner to Raskolnikov hadchanged during the last few minutes, and he was ruder and more sneeringevery moment. Raskolnikov noticed all this, and he too was uneasy. Hebecame very suspicious of Svidrigailov and resolved to follow him.

  They came out on to the pavement.

  "You go to the right, and I to the left, or if you like, the other way.Only _adieu, mon plaisir_, may we meet again."

  And he walked to the right towards the Hay Market.