Page 11 of The Possessed

sage from the Apocalypse about the lukewarm?

  TIHON: Yes. "I know thy works, that thou art

  neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or

  hot. So then because thou art lukewarm, and nei-

  ther cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my

  mouth. Because thou sayest . . ."

  STAVROGIN: That will do. (A silence. Without

  looking at him) You know, I like you very much.

  133 Scene 14

  TIHON (in a whisper): I like you too. (Rather

  long silence. Stroking Stavrogin's elbow ivith his

  finger) Don't be annoyed.

  STAVROGIN (giving a start): How did you know

  . . . (He resumes his normal tone of voice.)

  Indeed, yes, I was annoyed because I told you

  that I liked you.

  TIHON (firmly): Don't be annoyed, and tell me

  everything.

  STAVROGIN: So you are sure that I came with an

  ulterior motive?

  TIHON (lowering his eyes): I read it on your face

  when you came in.

  (STAVROGIN is pale and his hands tremble. He

  takes several sheets of paper out of his pocket.)

  STAVROGIN: All right. I wrote a story about myself

  which I am going to publish. Whatever you may

  say to me about it won't change my decision in

  any way. However, I should like you to be the

  first to know this story, and I'm going to tell it

  to you. (TIHON slowly nods his head.) Stop up

  your ears. Promise not to listen to me and I shall

  speak, (TIHON doesn't answer.) From 1861 to

  1863 I lived in Petersburg indulging in debauch-

  eries that provided no pleasure. I was living with

  nihilist comrades who adored me because of my

  money. I was dreadfully bored. So much so that

  I might have hanged myself. [The reason that I

  didn't hang myself then is that I was hoping for

  something, I didn't know just what.] (TIHON

  says nothing.) I had three apartments.

  TIHON : Three?

  STAVROGIN: Yes. One in which I had set up Maria

  Second Part 134

  Lebyatkin, who later became my legitimate wife.

  And two others in which I used to receive my

  mistresses. One of them was rented to me by

  shopkeepers who occupied the rest of the apart-

  ment and worked elsewhere. Hence I was alone

  there, rather often, with their twelve-year-old

  daughter named Matriocha. (He stops.)

  TIHON : Do you want to go on or stop there?

  STAVROGIN: I'll go on. She was a very gentle and

  calm child, pale blonde and freckled. One day

  I couldn't find my pocket knife. I mentioned it

  to the mother, who accused her daughter and

  beat her, in my presence, until she bled. That

  evening I found the pocket knife in the folds of

  my blanket. I put it into my waistcoat pocket

  and, once outside, threw it away in the street so

  that no one would know about it. Three days

  later I went back to Matriocha's house. (He

  stops.)

  TIHON: Did you tell her parents?

  STAVROGIN: NO. They weren't there. Matriocha

  was alone.

  TIHON: Ah!

  STAVROGIN: Yes. Alone. She was sitting in a corner

  on a little bench. She had her back turned. For

  some time I watched her from my room. Sud-

  denly she began to sing softly, very softly. My

  heart began beating violently. I got up and slowly

  approached Matriocha. [The windows were dec-

  orated with geraniums; the sun was hot.] I sat

  down silently beside her on the floor. She was

  frightened and suddenly stood up. I took her

  hand and kissed it; she laughed like a child; I

  135 Scene 14

  made her sit down again, but she again got up

  with a frightened look. I kissed her hand again.

  I drew her onto my lap. She withdrew a bit and

  smiled again. I "was laughing too. Then she threw

  her arms around my neck and kissed me. . . .

  (He stops, TIHON looks at him. STAVROGIN stares

  hack at him and then, showing a blank sheet) At

  this point in my story I left a blank.

  TIHON: Are you going to tell me what followed?

  STAVROGIN (laughing awkwardly, his face dis-

  torted) -. No, no. Later on. When you become

  worthy of it . . . (TIHON stares at him.) But

  nothing happened at all; what are you thinking?

  Nothing at ail . . . It would be better if you

  didn't look at me. (In a whisper) And don't try

  my patience, (TIHON lowers his eyes.) When I

  returned two days later, Matriocha fled into the

  other room as soon as she saw me. But it was

  clear to me that she hadn't said anything to her

  mother. Yet I was afraid. During that whole time

  I was horribly afraid that she would talk. Finally,

  one day her mother told me, before leaving us

  alone, that the girl was in bed with a fever. I sat

  down in my room and, without stirring, watched

  the bed in the darkness of the other room. An

  hour later she moved. She came out of the dark-

  ness, emaciated in her nightgown, came to the

  door of my room, and there, tossing her head,

  shook her frail little fist at me. Then she fled. I

  heard her run along the inner balcony. I got up

  and saw her disappear into a nook where wood

  was kept. I knew what she was going to do. But

  I sat down again and forced myself to wait

  Second Part 136

  twenty minutes. [Someone was singing in the

  courtyard; a fly was buzzing near me. I caught it,

  held it in my hand a moment, and then let it go.]

  I recall that on a geranium near me a tiny red

  spider was walking slowly. When the twenty

  minutes were up, I forced myself to wait a quar-

  ter of an hour more. Then, as I left, I looked into

  the nook through a crack. Matriocha had hanged

  herself. I left and spent the evening playing cards,

  with the feeling that a weight had been lifted

  from me.

  TIHON: A weight lifted from you?

  STAVROGIN (with a change in manner): Yes. But

  at the same time I knew that the feeling was

  based on a horrible cowardice and that never

  again, never again, could I feel noble in this life,

  or in another life, never. . . .

  TIHON: Is that why you acted so strangely here?

  STAVROGIN: Yes. I should have liked to kill myself.

  But I didn't have the courage. So I ruined my life

  in the stupidest way possible. I led an ironic life.

  It occurred to me that it would be a good idea?

  quite stupid, really?to marry a crazy woman,

  a cripple, and so I did. I even accepted a duel and

  kept from shooting in the hope of being killed

  foolishly. Finally I accepted the heaviest responsi-

  bilities, without believing in them. But all that

  was in vain! And now I live between two dreams.

  In one of them there are happy islands sur-
br />   rounded by a sun-drenched sea where men wake

  up and go to bed innocent, and in the other I

  see an emaciated Matriocha tossing her head and

  shaking her little fist at me. . . . Her little fist

  137 Scene 14

  . . *: I should like to erase a deed from my life,

  and I cannot. (He hides his head in his hands.

  Then, after a silence, he straightens up.)

  TIHON: Are you really going to publish this story?

  STAVROGIN: Yes. Yes!

  TIHON: Your intention is noble. The spirit of peni-

  tence can go no further. It would be an admirable

  action to punish oneself this way if only . . .

  STAVROGIN: If?

  TIHON: If only it were a true penance.

  STAVROGIN: What do you mean?

  TIHON: You express directly in your narrative the

  need felt by a heart mortally wounded. This is

  why you wanted to be spat upon, to be slapped,

  and to be shamed. But at the same time there is

  pride and defiance in your confession. [Sensual-

  ity and idleness have made you insensitive, in-

  capable of loving, and you seem to be proud of

  that insensitivity. You are proud of what is

  shameful.] That is despicable.

  STAVROGIN: I thank you.

  TIHON: Why?

  STAVROGIN: Because, although you are annoyed

  with me, you don't seem to feel any disgust and

  you talk to me as to an equal.

  TIHON: I was disgusted. But you have so much

  pride that you didn't notice it. Yet your words

  "You talk to me as to an equal" are beautiful

  words. They show that your heart is great and

  your strength tremendous. But that great useless

  strength in you frightens me because it seeks to

  express itself only in foul deeds. You have ne-

  gated everything, you no longer love anything,

  Second Part 138

  and a punishment pursues all those who break

  away from their native soil, from the truth be-

  longing to their own people and their own time.

  STAVROGIN: I don't fear that punishment, or any

  other.

  TIHON: One must fear, on the contrary. Or else

  there is no punishment but only delight. Listen.

  If someone, someone you didn't know, whom

  you would never see again, read that confession

  and forgave you silently in his heart, would that

  bring you peace?

  STAVROGIN: That would bring me peace. (In a

  whisper) If you forgave me, that would do me

  great good. (He stares at him and then breaks

  out in violent passion.) No! I want to win my

  own forgiveness! That is my principal and sole

  aim. Only then will the vision disappear! That is

  why I long for an exceptional suffering; that is

  why I seek it myself! Don't discourage me or I

  shall burst with rage!

  TIHON (rising): If you believe that you can for-

  give yourself, and that you will achieve your

  forgiveness in this world through suffering, if

  you seek solely to obtain that forgiveness?oh,

  then you have complete faith! God will forgive

  you [your absence of faith, for you venerate the

  Holy Ghost without knowing it.]

  STAVROGIN: There can be no forgiveness for me.

  It is written in your books that there is no greater

  crime than to offend one of these little ones.

  TIHON: If you forgive yourself, Christ will for-

  give you likewise.

  STAVROGIN: No. No. Not he. Not he. There can

  '?|

  139 Scene 14

  be no forgiveness! Never again, never again . . .

  STAVROGIN takes his hat and strides toward the

  door like a madman. But he turns back toward

  TIHON and resumes his ceremonious manner. Me

  seems exhausted.} I shall return. We shall talk of

  all this again. I assure you that I'm very happy to

  have met you. I appreciate your welcome and

  your understanding.

  TIHON: Are you leaving already? I wanted to ask

  you a favor. . . . But I fear . . .

  STAVROGIN: Please do. {He negligently picks up a

  little crucifix from the table.)

  TIHON: Don't publish that story.

  STAVROGIN: I warned you that nothing will stop

  me. I shall make it known to the whole world!

  TIHON: I understand. But I propose to you an even

  greater sacrifice. Give up your intention and in

  this way you will overcome your pride, you will

  crush your demon, and you will achieve liberty.

  {He clasps his hands.)

  STAVROGIN: You take all this too much to heart.

  If I listened to you, I'd just settle down, have

  children, become a member of a club, and come

  to the monastery on holy days.

  TIHON: No. I am suggesting a different penance.

  In this monastery there is an ascetic, an old man

  of such Christian wisdom that neither I nor even

  you can imagine it. Go to him, submit to his

  authority for five or seven years, and you will

  obtain, I promise you, everything for which you

  thirst.

  STAVROGIN {in a bantering tone of voice): Enter

  the monastery? Why not? After all, I am con-

  Second Part 140

  vinced that I could live like a monk, although I

  am gifted with a bestial sensuality, (TIHON cries

  out, with his hands stretched in front of him.)

  What's the matter?

  TIHON: I see, I see clearly that you have never

  been closer to committing another crime even

  more heinous than the one you have just related.

  STAVROGIN: Calm yourself. I can promise you not

  to publish this story immediately.

  TIHON: NO. NO. There will come a day, an hour,

  before that great sacrifice, when you will look

  for a way out in a new crime, and you will com-

  mit it only to avoid publication of these pages!

  (STAVROGIN stares at him -fixedly, breaks the cru-

  cifix, and drops the -pieces on the tabled)

  CURTAIN

  THIRD PART

  Second Part 140

  vinced that I could live like a monk, although I

  am gifted with a bestial sensuality, (TIHON cries

  out, with his hands stretched in front of him.)

  What's the matter?

  TIHON: I see, I see clearly that you have never

  been closer to committing another crime even

  more heinous than the one you have just related.

  STAVROGIN: Calm yourself. I can promise you not

  to publish this story immediately.

  TIHON: No. No. There will come a day, an hour,

  before that great sacrifice, when you will look

  for a way out in a new crime, and you will com-

  mit it only to avoid publication of these pages!

  (STAVROGIN stares at him fixedly, breaks the cru-

  cifix, and drops the pieces on the table.)

  CURTAIN

  THIRD PART

  SCENE 15

  At Varvara S
tavrogiris. STAVROGIN comes in, his

  face distorted, hesitates, wheels around, and then

  disappears through the door upstage, GRIGORIEV and

  STEPAN TROFIMOVICH come in, greatly excited.

  STEPAN: But, after all, what does she want of me?

  GRIGORIEV: I don't know. She asked you to come

  at once.

  STEPAN: It must be the house search. She heard of

  it. She will never forgive me.

  GRIGORIEV: But who came to search you?

  STEPAN: I don't know, une espece d'Allemand,

  who directed everything. I was excited. He

  talked. No, I was the one who talked. I told him

  my whole life?from the political point of view,

  I mean. I was excited but dignified, I assure you.

  Yet ... I fear I may have wept.

  GRIGORIEV: But you should have demanded his

  search warrant. You should have shown a little

  arrogance.

  STEPAN: Listen, Anton, don't criticize me. When

  you are unhappy, there is nothing more unbear-

  able than having friends tell you that you have

  made a mistake. In any case, I have taken my pre-

  cautions. I have had warm clothing packed.

  GRIGORIEV: For what reason?

  STEPAN: Well, if they come to get me . . .

  Third Part 144

  That's the way it is now: they come, they seize

  you, and then Siberia or worse. Consequently I

  sewed thirty-five rubles into the lining of my

  waistcoat.

  GRIGORIEV: But there's no question of your being

  arrested.

  STEP AN: They must have received a telegram

  from St. Petersburg.

  GRIGORIEV: About you? But you haven't done

  anything.

  STEP AN: Yes, yes, I'll be arrested. And off to

  prison, or else they forget you in a dungeon.

  (He bursts into sobs.)

  GRIGORIEV: Come, come, calm yourself. You

  haven't anything on your conscience. Why are

  you afraid?

  STEPAN: Afraid? Oh, I'm not afraid! I mean, I'm

  not afraid of Siberia. There's something else I

  fear. I fear shame.

  GRIGORIEV: Shame? What shame?

  STEPAN; The whip!

  GRIGORIEV: What do you mean, the whip? You

  frighten me, my friend.

  STEPAN: Yes, they flog you too.

  GRIGORIEV: But why should they flog you? You

  haven't done anything.

  STEPAN: That's just it. They'll see that I haven't

  done anything and they'll flog me.

  GRIGORIEV: You should take a rest after you have

  seen Varvara Stavrogin.

  STEPAN: What will she think? How will she react

  when she learns of my shame? Here she is. (He

  makes the sign of the cross,)

  145 Scene 15

  GRIGORIEV: You make the sign of the cross?

  STEPAN: Oh, I've never believed in that. But, after

  all, it's better not to take any chances.

  (VARVARA STAVROGIN comes in. They rise.)

  VARVARA (to GRIGORIEV): Thank you, Anton.

  Would you be so kind as to leave us alone? . . .

  (To STEP AN TROFIMOVICH) Sit down, (GRIGORIEV

  leaves. She goes to the desk and writes a note

  rapidly. Meanwhile, STEPAN TROFIMOVICH squirms

  on his chair. Then she turns around toward him.)

  Stepan Trofimovich, we have questions to settle

  before separating definitively. I shall be blunt.

  (He cringes on his chair.) Don't say a word. Let

  me do the talking. I consider myself committed

  to continuing your allowance of twelve hundred

  rubles. I am adding eight hundred rubles for ex-

  ceptional expenses. Is that enough for you? It

  seems to me that it is not negligible. So you will

  take this money and go to live, as you will, in

  Petersburg, in Moscow, abroad, but not in my

  house. Do you understand?

  STEPAN: Not long ago you made another arbitrary

  demand, just as urgent and just as categorical. I

  submitted to it. I disguised myself as a fiance and

  danced the minuet for love of you. . . .

  VARVARA: You didn't dance. You came to my

  house wearing a new necktie, pomaded and per-

  fumed. You had an urgent desire to get married;

  it could be seen on your face, and, take my word

  for it, it was not pretty to see. Especially with an

  innocent young girl, almost a child . . .

  STEPAN: Please let's not talk about it any more. I

  shall go to a home for the aged.

  Third Part 146

  VARVARA: People don't go to a home for the aged

  when they have an income of two thousand

  rubles. [You say that because your son, who, by

  the way, is more intelligent than you say he is,

  joked one day about a home. But there are all

  sorts of homes and there are even some that take

  in generals. So you could have a game of whist

  there. . . .]

  STEPAN: Passorts. Let's not mention it.

  VARVARA: Passons? So you are becoming rude