Part 4

Chapter 1

21 min

“Can this be still a dream?” Raskolnikov thought once more.

“Could this still be a dream?” Raskolnikov thought again.

He looked carefully and suspiciously at the unexpected visitor.

“Svidrigaïlov! What nonsense! It can’t be!” he said at last aloud in bewilderment.

“Svidrigaïlov! What nonsense! It can’t be!” he finally said aloud, bewildered.

His visitor did not seem at all surprised at this exclamation.

His visitor did not seem at all surprised by the outburst.

“I’ve come to you for two reasons. In the first place, I wanted to make your personal acquaintance, as I have already heard a great deal about you that is interesting and flattering; secondly, I cherish the hope that you may not refuse to assist me in a matter directly concerning the welfare of your sister, Avdotya Romanovna. For without your support she might not let me come near her now, for she is prejudiced against me, but with your assistance I reckon on...”

“I’ve come to you for two reasons. First, I wanted to meet you. I’ve already heard a great deal about you that was interesting and flattering. Second, I hope you won’t refuse to help me with a matter directly affecting your sister Avdotya Romanovna’s welfare. Without your support, she might not let me come near her now, because she is prejudiced against me. But with your help, I’m counting on...”

“You reckon wrongly,” interrupted Raskolnikov.

“You're mistaken,” Raskolnikov interrupted.

“They only arrived yesterday, may I ask you?”

“Did they only arrive yesterday, may I ask?”

Raskolnikov made no reply.

Raskolnikov didn't reply.

“It was yesterday, I know. I only arrived myself the day before. Well, let me tell you this, Rodion Romanovitch, I don’t consider it necessary to justify myself, but kindly tell me what was there particularly criminal on my part in all this business, speaking without prejudice, with common sense?”

“It was yesterday, I know. I only arrived the day before myself. Well, let me tell you this, Rodion Romanovitch. I don’t think I need to defend myself. But tell me, what exactly did I do that was criminal in all this? Be fair and use common sense.”

Raskolnikov continued to look at him in silence.

Raskolnikov kept looking at him in silence.

“That in my own house I persecuted a defenceless girl and ‘insulted her with my infamous proposals’—is that it? (I am anticipating you.) But you’ve only to assume that I, too, am a man et nihil humanum... in a word, that I am capable of being attracted and falling in love (which does not depend on our will), then everything can be explained in the most natural manner. The question is, am I a monster, or am I myself a victim? And what if I am a victim? In proposing to the object of my passion to elope with me to America or Switzerland, I may have cherished the deepest respect for her and may have thought that I was promoting our mutual happiness! Reason is the slave of passion, you know; why, probably, I was doing more harm to myself than anyone!”

“So I harassed a defenseless girl in my own house and ‘insulted her with my infamous proposals.’ Is that it? (I’m anticipating what you’ll say.) But just suppose that I’m human too, et nihil humanum... In short, suppose I can feel attracted to someone and fall in love. That’s not something we can control. Then everything can be explained quite naturally. The question is, am I a monster, or am I a victim myself? And what if I am a victim? I suggested that the woman I was passionate about run away with me to America or Switzerland. Yet I may have had the deepest respect for her. I may have thought I was making us both happy! Reason is the slave of passion, you know. Why, I was probably doing more harm to myself than to anyone else!”

“But that’s not the point,” Raskolnikov interrupted with disgust. “It’s simply that whether you are right or wrong, we dislike you. We don’t want to have anything to do with you. We show you the door. Go out!”

“But that’s not the point,” Raskolnikov interrupted with disgust. “The fact is, whether you’re right or wrong, we dislike you. We don’t want anything to do with you. We’re showing you the door. Get out!”

Svidrigaïlov broke into a sudden laugh.

Svidrigaïlov suddenly burst out laughing.

“But you’re... but there’s no getting round you,” he said, laughing in the frankest way. “I hoped to get round you, but you took up the right line at once!”

“But you’re... but I can’t get around you,” he said, laughing openly. “I hoped I could, but you saw through me right away!”

“But you are trying to get round me still!”

“But you’re still trying to win me over!”

“What of it? What of it?” cried Svidrigaïlov, laughing openly. “But this is what the French call bonne guerre, and the most innocent form of deception!... But still you have interrupted me; one way or another, I repeat again: there would never have been any unpleasantness except for what happened in the garden. Marfa Petrovna...”

“What of it? What of it?” cried Svidrigaïlov, laughing openly. “But this is what the French call bonne guerre, the most innocent kind of deception!... But you have interrupted me. Anyway, I repeat: there would never have been any trouble if not for what happened in the garden. Marfa Petrovna...”

“You have got rid of Marfa Petrovna, too, so they say?” Raskolnikov interrupted rudely.

“They say you got rid of Marfa Petrovna too?” Raskolnikov interrupted rudely.

“Oh, you’ve heard that, too, then? You’d be sure to, though.... But as for your question, I really don’t know what to say, though my own conscience is quite at rest on that score. Don’t suppose that I am in any apprehension about it. All was regular and in order; the medical inquiry diagnosed apoplexy due to bathing immediately after a heavy dinner and a bottle of wine, and indeed it could have proved nothing else. But I’ll tell you what I have been thinking to myself of late, on my way here in the train, especially: didn’t I contribute to all that... calamity, morally, in a way, by irritation or something of the sort. But I came to the conclusion that that, too, was quite out of the question.”

“Oh, you’ve heard that too, then? Of course you would have.... But as for your question, I really don’t know what to say. My conscience is quite clear on that score, though. Don’t think I’m worried about it. Everything was proper and in order. The medical inquiry found that the cause was a stroke brought on by bathing right after a heavy dinner and a bottle of wine. Indeed, it could have found nothing else. But lately I’ve been wondering about something, especially on the train here. Did I contribute to that whole... calamity in a moral sense, by irritating someone or something like that? But I concluded that that was quite out of the question too.”

Raskolnikov laughed.

“I wonder you trouble yourself about it!”

“I’m surprised you bother with it!”

“But what are you laughing at? Only consider, I struck her just twice with a switch—there were no marks even... don’t regard me as a cynic, please; I am perfectly aware how atrocious it was of me and all that; but I know for certain, too, that Marfa Petrovna was very likely pleased at my, so to say, warmth. The story of your sister had been wrung out to the last drop; for the last three days Marfa Petrovna had been forced to sit at home; she had nothing to show herself with in the town. Besides, she had bored them so with that letter (you heard about her reading the letter). And all of a sudden those two switches fell from heaven! Her first act was to order the carriage to be got out.... Not to speak of the fact that there are cases when women are very, very glad to be insulted in spite of all their show of indignation. There are instances of it with everyone; human beings in general, indeed, greatly love to be insulted, have you noticed that? But it’s particularly so with women. One might even say it’s their only amusement.”

“But what are you laughing at? Just think, I only hit her twice with a switch. There weren’t even any marks... Please don’t think me a cynic. I know perfectly well how awful my behavior was and all that. But I also know for certain that Marfa Petrovna was very likely pleased by my warmth, so to speak. The story about your sister had been squeezed dry. For the past three days, Marfa Petrovna had been forced to stay home. She had nothing to show for herself in town. Besides, she had bored everyone so much with that letter. You heard how she read the letter aloud. Then suddenly those two blows with a switch fell from heaven! The first thing she did was order the carriage to be brought out.... Not to mention that sometimes women are very, very glad to be insulted, despite all their show of outrage. Everyone does this at times. People in general really love to be insulted. Have you noticed that? But it’s especially true of women. You might even say it’s their only amusement.”

At one time Raskolnikov thought of getting up and walking out and so finishing the interview. But some curiosity and even a sort of prudence made him linger for a moment.

For a moment, Raskolnikov thought about getting up and walking out to end the interview. But curiosity and a kind of caution made him stay a little longer.

“You are fond of fighting?” he asked carelessly.

“Do you like fighting?” he asked casually.

“No, not very,” Svidrigaïlov answered, calmly. “And Marfa Petrovna and I scarcely ever fought. We lived very harmoniously, and she was always pleased with me. I only used the whip twice in all our seven years (not counting a third occasion of a very ambiguous character). The first time, two months after our marriage, immediately after we arrived in the country, and the last time was that of which we are speaking. Did you suppose I was such a monster, such a reactionary, such a slave driver? Ha, ha! By the way, do you remember, Rodion Romanovitch, how a few years ago, in those days of beneficent publicity, a nobleman, I’ve forgotten his name, was put to shame everywhere, in all the papers, for having thrashed a German woman in the railway train. You remember? It was in those days, that very year I believe, the ‘disgraceful action of the Age’ took place (you know, ‘The Egyptian Nights,’ that public reading, you remember? The dark eyes, you know! Ah, the golden days of our youth, where are they?). Well, as for the gentleman who thrashed the German, I feel no sympathy with him, because after all what need is there for sympathy? But I must say that there are sometimes such provoking ‘Germans’ that I don’t believe there is a progressive who could quite answer for himself. No one looked at the subject from that point of view then, but that’s the truly humane point of view, I assure you.”

“No, not very,” Svidrigaïlov answered calmly. “Marfa Petrovna and I hardly ever fought. We lived together very happily, and she was always pleased with me. I used the whip only twice in all our seven years (not counting a third occasion of a very ambiguous nature). The first time was two months after our marriage, just after we arrived in the country. The last time was the one we’re talking about. Did you think I was such a monster, such a reactionary, such a slave driver? Ha, ha! “By the way, do you remember, Rodion Romanovitch, those days of beneficial publicity a few years ago? A nobleman, whose name I’ve forgotten, was shamed everywhere, in all the papers. He had beaten a German woman on a train. Do you remember? It was around that time, in that very year, I believe, that the ‘disgraceful action of the Age’ took place. You know, ‘The Egyptian Nights,’ that public reading, do you remember? The dark eyes, you know! Ah, the golden days of our youth, where are they? “Well, I have no sympathy for the gentleman who beat the German. After all, what need is there for sympathy? But I must say, some ‘Germans’ are so provoking that I doubt any progressive could be sure of himself. No one looked at the matter from that point of view then. But that’s the truly humane point of view, I assure you.”

After saying this, Svidrigaïlov broke into a sudden laugh again. Raskolnikov saw clearly that this was a man with a firm purpose in his mind and able to keep it to himself.

After saying this, Svidrigaïlov suddenly laughed again. Raskolnikov could see clearly that Svidrigaïlov had a firm purpose and could keep it to himself.

“I expect you’ve not talked to anyone for some days?” he asked.

“I suppose you haven’t talked to anyone for a few days?” he asked.

“Scarcely anyone. I suppose you are wondering at my being such an adaptable man?”

“Hardly anyone. I suppose you're wondering how I can be such an adaptable man?”

“No, I am only wondering at your being too adaptable a man.”

“No, I’m just surprised that you’re too adaptable.”

“Because I am not offended at the rudeness of your questions? Is that it? But why take offence? As you asked, so I answered,” he replied, with a surprising expression of simplicity. “You know, there’s hardly anything I take interest in,” he went on, as it were dreamily, “especially now, I’ve nothing to do.... You are quite at liberty to imagine though that I am making up to you with a motive, particularly as I told you I want to see your sister about something. But I’ll confess frankly, I am very much bored. The last three days especially, so I am delighted to see you.... Don’t be angry, Rodion Romanovitch, but you seem to be somehow awfully strange yourself. Say what you like, there’s something wrong with you, and now, too... not this very minute, I mean, but now, generally.... Well, well, I won’t, I won’t, don’t scowl! I am not such a bear, you know, as you think.”

“Because I’m not offended by your rude questions? Is that it? But why should I be offended? You asked, and I answered,” he replied with a surprisingly simple expression. “You know, hardly anything interests me,” he went on, almost dreamily. “Especially now, I have nothing to do.... But you’re free to think I’m trying to win you over for a reason. Especially since I told you I want to see your sister about something. But I’ll be honest, I’m very bored. I’ve been especially bored these last three days, so I’m delighted to see you.... Don’t be angry, Rodion Romanovitch, but you seem awfully strange yourself somehow. Say what you like, something is wrong with you, even now... I don’t mean this very minute, but these days, generally.... All right, all right, I won’t say any more. Don’t scowl! You know, I’m not as much of a bear as you think.”

Raskolnikov looked gloomily at him.

Raskolnikov looked at him gloomily.

“You are not a bear, perhaps, at all,” he said. “I fancy indeed that you are a man of very good breeding, or at least know how on occasion to behave like one.”

“Perhaps you’re not a bear at all,” he said. “In fact, I think you’re a well-bred man, or at least know how to act like one when you want to.”

“I am not particularly interested in anyone’s opinion,” Svidrigaïlov answered, dryly and even with a shade of haughtiness, “and therefore why not be vulgar at times when vulgarity is such a convenient cloak for our climate... and especially if one has a natural propensity that way,” he added, laughing again.

“I don’t particularly care what anyone thinks,” Svidrigaïlov replied dryly, with a hint of arrogance. “So why not be vulgar sometimes? Vulgarity is such a convenient cloak for our climate... especially if one has a natural tendency toward it,” he added, laughing again.

“But I’ve heard you have many friends here. You are, as they say, ‘not without connections.’ What can you want with me, then, unless you’ve some special object?”

“But I’ve heard you have many friends here. As they say, you’re ‘not without connections.’ So what do you want with me, unless you have some special purpose?”

“That’s true that I have friends here,” Svidrigaïlov admitted, not replying to the chief point. “I’ve met some already. I’ve been lounging about for the last three days, and I’ve seen them, or they’ve seen me. That’s a matter of course. I am well dressed and reckoned not a poor man; the emancipation of the serfs hasn’t affected me; my property consists chiefly of forests and water meadows. The revenue has not fallen off; but... I am not going to see them, I was sick of them long ago. I’ve been here three days and have called on no one.... What a town it is! How has it come into existence among us, tell me that? A town of officials and students of all sorts. Yes, there’s a great deal I didn’t notice when I was here eight years ago, kicking up my heels.... My only hope now is in anatomy, by Jove, it is!”

“That’s true, I have friends here,” Svidrigaïlov admitted, without answering the main point. “I’ve already met some of them. I’ve been hanging around for the last three days. I’ve seen them, or they’ve seen me. That’s only natural. I’m well dressed, and people know I’m not poor. The emancipation of the serfs hasn’t affected me. My property is mostly forests and water meadows. My income hasn’t fallen, but... I’m not going to see my friends. I got sick of them long ago. I’ve been here three days and haven’t called on anyone.... What a town this is! Tell me, how did a town like this come into existence among us? A town full of officials and students of all sorts. Yes, there’s a lot I didn’t notice when I was here eight years ago, having a wild time.... My only hope now is anatomy, by God, it is!”

“Anatomy?”

“But as for these clubs, Dussauts, parades, or progress, indeed, maybe—well, all that can go on without me,” he went on, again without noticing the question. “Besides, who wants to be a card-sharper?”

“But as for these clubs, Dussauts, parades, or progress, well, maybe all that can go on without me,” he went on, again ignoring the question. “Besides, who wants to be a card cheat?”

“Why, have you been a card-sharper then?”

“Wait, have you been cheating at cards, then?”

“How could I help being? There was a regular set of us, men of the best society, eight years ago; we had a fine time. And all men of breeding, you know, poets, men of property. And indeed as a rule in our Russian society the best manners are found among those who’ve been thrashed, have you noticed that? I’ve deteriorated in the country. But I did get into prison for debt, through a low Greek who came from Nezhin. Then Marfa Petrovna turned up; she bargained with him and bought me off for thirty thousand silver pieces (I owed seventy thousand). We were united in lawful wedlock and she bore me off into the country like a treasure. You know she was five years older than I. She was very fond of me. For seven years I never left the country. And, take note, that all my life she held a document over me, the IOU for thirty thousand roubles, so if I were to elect to be restive about anything I should be trapped at once! And she would have done it! Women find nothing incompatible in that.”

“How could I help it? Eight years ago, there was a whole group of us, men from the best society. We had a fine time. And we were all well-bred men, you know, poets and men of property. In fact, as a rule, the best manners in Russian society are found among men who’ve been beaten. Have you noticed that? I’ve gone downhill in the country. But I did end up in debtors’ prison because of a low Greek from Nezhin. Then Marfa Petrovna appeared. She bargained with him and paid thirty thousand silver pieces to get me out. I owed seventy thousand. We were legally married, and she carried me off to the country like a treasure. You know, she was five years older than I was. She was very fond of me. For seven years I never left the country. And mind you, she held an IOU from me for thirty thousand roubles all my life. So if I chose to resist her about anything, she could trap me at once! And she would have done it! Women see nothing inconsistent in that.”

“If it hadn’t been for that, would you have given her the slip?”

“If it hadn’t been for that, would you have slipped away from her?”

“I don’t know what to say. It was scarcely the document restrained me. I didn’t want to go anywhere else. Marfa Petrovna herself invited me to go abroad, seeing I was bored, but I’ve been abroad before, and always felt sick there. For no reason, but the sunrise, the bay of Naples, the sea—you look at them and it makes you sad. What’s most revolting is that one is really sad! No, it’s better at home. Here at least one blames others for everything and excuses oneself. I should have gone perhaps on an expedition to the North Pole, because j’ai le vin mauvais and hate drinking, and there’s nothing left but wine. I have tried it. But, I say, I’ve been told Berg is going up in a great balloon next Sunday from the Yusupov Garden and will take up passengers at a fee. Is it true?”

“I don’t know what to say. The document was hardly what held me back. I didn’t want to go anywhere else. Marfa Petrovna saw that I was bored and even invited me to go abroad. But I’ve been abroad before, and I always felt sick there. There’s no reason for it. You look at the sunrise, the bay of Naples, the sea, and it makes you sad. The most revolting thing is that you really are sad! No, it’s better at home. Here, at least, you blame everyone else for everything and excuse yourself. Perhaps I should have joined an expedition to the North Pole. Because j’ai le vin mauvais and hate drinking, and there’s nothing left but wine. I’ve tried it. But listen, I’ve been told Berg is going up in a big balloon next Sunday from the Yusupov Garden. He’ll take passengers for a fee. Is that true?”

“Why, would you go up?”

“Wait, would you go up?”

“I... No, oh, no,” muttered Svidrigaïlov really seeming to be deep in thought.

“I... No, oh, no,” Svidrigaïlov muttered, seeming genuinely deep in thought.

“What does he mean? Is he in earnest?” Raskolnikov wondered.

“What does he mean? Is he serious?” Raskolnikov wondered.

“No, the document didn’t restrain me,” Svidrigaïlov went on, meditatively. “It was my own doing, not leaving the country, and nearly a year ago Marfa Petrovna gave me back the document on my name-day and made me a present of a considerable sum of money, too. She had a fortune, you know. ‘You see how I trust you, Arkady Ivanovitch’—that was actually her expression. You don’t believe she used it? But do you know I managed the estate quite decently, they know me in the neighbourhood. I ordered books, too. Marfa Petrovna at first approved, but afterwards she was afraid of my over-studying.”

“No, the document didn’t stop me,” Svidrigaïlov went on thoughtfully. “I chose not to leave the country. Nearly a year ago, Marfa Petrovna gave me back the document on my name-day. She also gave me a considerable sum of money. She had a fortune, you know. ‘You see how I trust you, Arkady Ivanovitch.’ Those were her exact words. You don’t believe she said that? But do you know I managed the estate quite well? People know me in the neighborhood. I ordered books, too. Marfa Petrovna approved at first, but later she worried that I was studying too much.”

“You seem to be missing Marfa Petrovna very much?”

“You seem to miss Marfa Petrovna very much?”

“Missing her? Perhaps. Really, perhaps I am. And, by the way, do you believe in ghosts?”

“Missing her? Maybe. Really, maybe I am. By the way, do you believe in ghosts?”

“What ghosts?”

“Why, ordinary ghosts.”

“Just ordinary ghosts.”

“Do you believe in them?”

“Perhaps not, pour vous plaire.... I wouldn’t say no exactly.”

“Perhaps not, to please you.... I wouldn’t exactly say no.”

“Do you see them, then?”

Svidrigaïlov looked at him rather oddly.

Svidrigaïlov looked at him rather strangely.

“Marfa Petrovna is pleased to visit me,” he said, twisting his mouth into a strange smile.

“Marfa Petrovna likes to visit me,” he said, twisting his mouth into a strange smile.

“How do you mean ‘she is pleased to visit you’?”

“What do you mean, ‘she’s pleased to visit you’?”

“She has been three times. I saw her first on the very day of the funeral, an hour after she was buried. It was the day before I left to come here. The second time was the day before yesterday, at daybreak, on the journey at the station of Malaya Vishera, and the third time was two hours ago in the room where I am staying. I was alone.”

“She has come three times. I first saw her on the day of the funeral, an hour after she was buried. That was the day before I left to come here. The second time was the day before yesterday, at dawn, during my journey, at Malaya Vishera station. The third time was two hours ago, in the room where I’m staying. I was alone.”

“Were you awake?”

“Quite awake. I was wide awake every time. She comes, speaks to me for a minute and goes out at the door—always at the door. I can almost hear her.”

“Fully awake. I was wide awake every time. She comes in, speaks to me for a minute, and leaves through the door. Always through the door. I can almost hear her.”

“What made me think that something of the sort must be happening to you?” Raskolnikov said suddenly.

“What made me think that something like that must be happening to you?” Raskolnikov said suddenly.

At the same moment he was surprised at having said it. He was much excited.

At the same moment, he was surprised that he had said it. He was very excited.

“What! Did you think so?” Svidrigaïlov asked in astonishment. “Did you really? Didn’t I say that there was something in common between us, eh?”

“What? You thought so?” Svidrigaïlov asked in surprise. “Really? Didn’t I say we had something in common, huh?”

“You never said so!” Raskolnikov cried sharply and with heat.

“You never said that!” Raskolnikov cried sharply and angrily.

“Didn’t I?”

“No!”

“I thought I did. When I came in and saw you lying with your eyes shut, pretending, I said to myself at once, ‘Here’s the man.’”

“I thought I did. When I came in, I saw you lying there with your eyes shut, pretending. I said to myself right away, ‘Here’s the man.’”

“What do you mean by ‘the man?’ What are you talking about?” cried Raskolnikov.

“What do you mean by ‘the man’? What are you talking about?” Raskolnikov cried.

“What do I mean? I really don’t know....” Svidrigaïlov muttered ingenuously, as though he, too, were puzzled.

“What do I mean? I really don’t know....” Svidrigaïlov muttered innocently, as if he were puzzled too.

For a minute they were silent. They stared in each other’s faces.

For a minute, they were silent. They stared at each other’s faces.

“That’s all nonsense!” Raskolnikov shouted with vexation. “What does she say when she comes to you?”

“That’s all nonsense!” Raskolnikov shouted angrily. “What does she say when she comes to you?”

“She! Would you believe it, she talks of the silliest trifles and—man is a strange creature—it makes me angry. The first time she came in (I was tired you know: the funeral service, the funeral ceremony, the lunch afterwards. At last I was left alone in my study. I lighted a cigar and began to think), she came in at the door. ‘You’ve been so busy to-day, Arkady Ivanovitch, you have forgotten to wind the dining-room clock,’ she said. All those seven years I’ve wound that clock every week, and if I forgot it she would always remind me. The next day I set off on my way here. I got out at the station at daybreak; I’d been asleep, tired out, with my eyes half open, I was drinking some coffee. I look up and there was suddenly Marfa Petrovna sitting beside me with a pack of cards in her hands. ‘Shall I tell your fortune for the journey, Arkady Ivanovitch?’ She was a great hand at telling fortunes. I shall never forgive myself for not asking her to. I ran away in a fright, and, besides, the bell rang. I was sitting to-day, feeling very heavy after a miserable dinner from a cookshop; I was sitting smoking, all of a sudden Marfa Petrovna again. She came in very smart in a new green silk dress with a long train. ‘Good day, Arkady Ivanovitch! How do you like my dress? Aniska can’t make like this.’ (Aniska was a dressmaker in the country, one of our former serf girls who had been trained in Moscow, a pretty wench.) She stood turning round before me. I looked at the dress, and then I looked carefully, very carefully, at her face. ‘I wonder you trouble to come to me about such trifles, Marfa Petrovna.’ ‘Good gracious, you won’t let one disturb you about anything!’ To tease her I said, ‘I want to get married, Marfa Petrovna.’ ‘That’s just like you, Arkady Ivanovitch; it does you very little credit to come looking for a bride when you’ve hardly buried your wife. And if you could make a good choice, at least, but I know it won’t be for your happiness or hers, you will only be a laughing-stock to all good people.’ Then she went out and her train seemed to rustle. Isn’t it nonsense, eh?”

“She! Would you believe it? She talks about the silliest little things, and it makes me angry. Man is a strange creature. The first time she came in, I was tired, you know. There had been the funeral service, the burial, and lunch afterward. At last I was alone in my study. I lit a cigar and began to think. Then she came through the door. ‘You’ve been so busy today, Arkady Ivanovitch, you forgot to wind the dining-room clock,’ she said. For all seven years, I had wound that clock every week. If I forgot, she always reminded me. “The next day I set off for here. I got off at the station at daybreak. I had been asleep and was exhausted. I was drinking coffee with my eyes half open. I looked up, and suddenly there was Marfa Petrovna sitting beside me with a pack of cards. ‘Shall I tell your fortune for the journey, Arkady Ivanovitch?’ She was very good at telling fortunes. I’ll never forgive myself for not asking her to. I ran away in a fright, and besides, the bell rang. “Today I was sitting and smoking, feeling very heavy after a miserable dinner from a cookshop. Suddenly, there was Marfa Petrovna again. She came in looking very smart in a new green silk dress with a long train. ‘Good day, Arkady Ivanovitch! How do you like my dress? Aniska can’t make a dress like this.’ (Aniska was a country dressmaker, one of our former serf girls. She had been trained in Moscow and was a pretty girl.) Marfa Petrovna stood turning around in front of me. I looked at the dress, then I looked carefully, very carefully, at her face. ‘I’m surprised you bother to come to me about such little things, Marfa Petrovna.’ ‘Good heavens, you won’t let anyone disturb you about anything!’ To tease her, I said, ‘I want to get married, Marfa Petrovna.’ ‘That’s just like you, Arkady Ivanovitch. It doesn’t do you much credit to look for a bride when you’ve hardly buried your wife. And if only you could make a good choice. But I know it won’t make you or her happy. You’ll only be a laughingstock to all decent people.’ Then she went out, and her train seemed to rustle. Isn’t it nonsense, eh?”

“But perhaps you are telling lies?” Raskolnikov put in.

“But maybe you’re lying?” Raskolnikov interjected.

“I rarely lie,” answered Svidrigaïlov thoughtfully, apparently not noticing the rudeness of the question.

“I rarely lie,” Svidrigaïlov answered thoughtfully. He apparently didn’t notice how rude the question was.

“And in the past, have you ever seen ghosts before?”

“And have you ever seen ghosts before?”

“Y-yes, I have seen them, but only once in my life, six years ago. I had a serf, Filka; just after his burial I called out forgetting ‘Filka, my pipe!’ He came in and went to the cupboard where my pipes were. I sat still and thought ‘he is doing it out of revenge,’ because we had a violent quarrel just before his death. ‘How dare you come in with a hole in your elbow?’ I said. ‘Go away, you scamp!’ He turned and went out, and never came again. I didn’t tell Marfa Petrovna at the time. I wanted to have a service sung for him, but I was ashamed.”

“Y-yes, I have seen them, but only once in my life, six years ago. I had a serf named Filka. Just after his burial, I forgot he was dead and called out, ‘Filka, my pipe!’ He came in and went to the cupboard where I kept my pipes. I sat still and thought, ‘He’s doing it to get back at me.’ We had a violent quarrel just before he died. ‘How dare you come in with a hole in your elbow?’ I said. ‘Go away, you scamp!’ He turned and went out, and never came back. I didn’t tell Marfa Petrovna at the time. I wanted to have a service sung for him, but I was ashamed.”

“You should go to a doctor.”

“I know I am not well, without your telling me, though I don’t know what’s wrong; I believe I am five times as strong as you are. I didn’t ask you whether you believe that ghosts are seen, but whether you believe that they exist.”

“I know I’m not well. You don’t have to tell me, though I don’t know what’s wrong. I believe I’m five times as strong as you are. I didn’t ask whether you believe people see ghosts, but whether you believe ghosts exist.”

“No, I won’t believe it!” Raskolnikov cried, with positive anger.

“No, I won’t believe it!” Raskolnikov cried, clearly angry.

“What do people generally say?” muttered Svidrigaïlov, as though speaking to himself, looking aside and bowing his head. “They say, ‘You are ill, so what appears to you is only unreal fantasy.’ But that’s not strictly logical. I agree that ghosts only appear to the sick, but that only proves that they are unable to appear except to the sick, not that they don’t exist.”

“What do people usually say?” Svidrigaïlov muttered, as if speaking to himself. He looked away and bowed his head. “They say, ‘You’re ill, so what you see is only imaginary.’ But that’s not strictly logical. I agree that ghosts appear only to sick people. But that only proves that ghosts can appear only to sick people. It doesn’t prove that ghosts don’t exist.”

“Nothing of the sort,” Raskolnikov insisted irritably.

“That’s not true,” Raskolnikov insisted irritably.

“No? You don’t think so?” Svidrigaïlov went on, looking at him deliberately. “But what do you say to this argument (help me with it): ghosts are, as it were, shreds and fragments of other worlds, the beginning of them. A man in health has, of course, no reason to see them, because he is above all a man of this earth and is bound for the sake of completeness and order to live only in this life. But as soon as one is ill, as soon as the normal earthly order of the organism is broken, one begins to realise the possibility of another world; and the more seriously ill one is, the closer becomes one’s contact with that other world, so that as soon as the man dies he steps straight into that world. I thought of that long ago. If you believe in a future life, you could believe in that, too.”

“No? You don’t think so?” Svidrigaïlov continued, looking at him deliberately. “But what do you make of this argument? Help me think it through. Ghosts are, in a way, scraps and fragments of other worlds, the beginnings of those worlds. A healthy person, of course, has no reason to see them. After all, he is a man of this earth. For the sake of completeness and order, he must live only in this life. But as soon as he becomes ill, the normal earthly order of his body is disrupted. He begins to realize that another world is possible. And the more seriously ill he is, the closer his contact with that other world becomes. So as soon as he dies, he steps straight into that world. I thought of that long ago. If you believe in an afterlife, you could believe that, too.”

“I don’t believe in a future life,” said Raskolnikov.

“I don’t believe in an afterlife,” said Raskolnikov.

Svidrigaïlov sat lost in thought.

“And what if there are only spiders there, or something of that sort,” he said suddenly.

“And what if there are only spiders there, or something like that?” he said suddenly.

“He is a madman,” thought Raskolnikov.

“He is crazy,” thought Raskolnikov.

“We always imagine eternity as something beyond our conception, something vast, vast! But why must it be vast? Instead of all that, what if it’s one little room, like a bath house in the country, black and grimy and spiders in every corner, and that’s all eternity is? I sometimes fancy it like that.”

“We always imagine eternity as something beyond our understanding, something vast, vast! But why does it have to be vast? What if eternity is just one little room, like a bathhouse in the countryside? It’s black and grimy, with spiders in every corner. What if that’s all eternity is? Sometimes I imagine it that way.”

“Can it be you can imagine nothing juster and more comforting than that?” Raskolnikov cried, with a feeling of anguish.

“Can you really imagine nothing fairer or more comforting than that?” Raskolnikov cried in anguish.

“Juster? And how can we tell, perhaps that is just, and do you know it’s what I would certainly have made it,” answered Svidrigaïlov, with a vague smile.

“More just? How can we tell? Perhaps that is just. And you know, that’s certainly how I would have made it,” Svidrigaïlov replied with a vague smile.

This horrible answer sent a cold chill through Raskolnikov. Svidrigaïlov raised his head, looked at him, and suddenly began laughing.

The horrible answer sent a chill through Raskolnikov. Svidrigaïlov raised his head, looked at him, and suddenly began to laugh.

“Only think,” he cried, “half an hour ago we had never seen each other, we regarded each other as enemies; there is a matter unsettled between us; we’ve thrown it aside, and away we’ve gone into the abstract! Wasn’t I right in saying that we were birds of a feather?”

“Just think,” he cried, “half an hour ago we had never met. We saw each other as enemies. There’s an unsettled matter between us, but we’ve set it aside and started talking about abstract ideas! Wasn’t I right when I said we were birds of a feather?”

“Kindly allow me,” Raskolnikov went on irritably, “to ask you to explain why you have honoured me with your visit... and... and I am in a hurry, I have no time to waste. I want to go out.”

“Please,” Raskolnikov went on irritably, “tell me why you’ve come to visit me... and... and I’m in a hurry. I have no time to waste. I want to go out.”

“By all means, by all means. Your sister, Avdotya Romanovna, is going to be married to Mr. Luzhin, Pyotr Petrovitch?”

“Of course, of course. Your sister, Avdotya Romanovna, is going to marry Mr. Pyotr Petrovitch Luzhin?”

“Can you refrain from any question about my sister and from mentioning her name? I can’t understand how you dare utter her name in my presence, if you really are Svidrigaïlov.”

“Can you stop asking about my sister and mentioning her name? If you really are Svidrigaïlov, I can’t understand how you dare say her name in front of me.”

“Why, but I’ve come here to speak about her; how can I avoid mentioning her?”

“But I came here to talk about her. How can I avoid mentioning her?”

“Very good, speak, but make haste.”

“All right, speak, but hurry.”

“I am sure that you must have formed your own opinion of this Mr. Luzhin, who is a connection of mine through my wife, if you have only seen him for half an hour, or heard any facts about him. He is no match for Avdotya Romanovna. I believe Avdotya Romanovna is sacrificing herself generously and imprudently for the sake of... for the sake of her family. I fancied from all I had heard of you that you would be very glad if the match could be broken off without the sacrifice of worldly advantages. Now I know you personally, I am convinced of it.”

“I am sure you have formed your own opinion of Mr. Luzhin if you have met him for even half an hour or heard anything about him. He is a relative of mine through my wife. He is not a suitable match for Avdotya Romanovna. I believe she is generously and unwisely sacrificing herself for the sake of... for the sake of her family. From all I had heard about you, I thought you would be very glad if the engagement could be broken off without losing its material advantages. Now that I know you personally, I am convinced of it.”

“All this is very naïve... excuse me, I should have said impudent on your part,” said Raskolnikov.

“All this is very naive. Sorry, I should have said it’s very rude of you,” said Raskolnikov.

“You mean to say that I am seeking my own ends. Don’t be uneasy, Rodion Romanovitch, if I were working for my own advantage, I would not have spoken out so directly. I am not quite a fool. I will confess something psychologically curious about that: just now, defending my love for Avdotya Romanovna, I said I was myself the victim. Well, let me tell you that I’ve no feeling of love now, not the slightest, so that I wonder myself indeed, for I really did feel something...”

“You’re saying I’m looking out for myself. Don’t worry, Rodion Romanovitch. If I were acting for my own benefit, I wouldn’t have spoken so directly. I’m not quite a fool. I’ll confess something psychologically curious about that. Just now, while defending my love for Avdotya Romanovna, I said I was the victim. Well, let me tell you, I don’t feel any love for her now, not the slightest bit. It surprises even me, because I really did feel something...”

“Through idleness and depravity,” Raskolnikov put in.

“Through laziness and corruption,” Raskolnikov interrupted.

“I certainly am idle and depraved, but your sister has such qualities that even I could not help being impressed by them. But that’s all nonsense, as I see myself now.”

“I certainly am lazy and immoral, but your sister has qualities that even I couldn’t help admiring. But I can see now that’s all nonsense.”

“Have you seen that long?”

“Have you seen that for long?”

“I began to be aware of it before, but was only perfectly sure of it the day before yesterday, almost at the moment I arrived in Petersburg. I still fancied in Moscow, though, that I was coming to try to get Avdotya Romanovna’s hand and to cut out Mr. Luzhin.”

“I had begun to realize it earlier, but I was only completely sure the day before yesterday, almost as soon as I arrived in Petersburg. While I was still in Moscow, though, I imagined I was coming to seek Avdotya Romanovna’s hand and win her away from Mr. Luzhin.”

“Excuse me for interrupting you; kindly be brief, and come to the object of your visit. I am in a hurry, I want to go out...”

“Sorry to interrupt, but please be brief and tell me why you’re here. I’m in a hurry. I need to go out...”

“With the greatest pleasure. On arriving here and determining on a certain... journey, I should like to make some necessary preliminary arrangements. I left my children with an aunt; they are well provided for; and they have no need of me personally. And a nice father I should make, too! I have taken nothing but what Marfa Petrovna gave me a year ago. That’s enough for me. Excuse me, I am just coming to the point. Before the journey which may come off, I want to settle Mr. Luzhin, too. It’s not that I detest him so much, but it was through him I quarrelled with Marfa Petrovna when I learned that she had dished up this marriage. I want now to see Avdotya Romanovna through your mediation, and if you like in your presence, to explain to her that in the first place she will never gain anything but harm from Mr. Luzhin. Then, begging her pardon for all past unpleasantness, to make her a present of ten thousand roubles and so assist the rupture with Mr. Luzhin, a rupture to which I believe she is herself not disinclined, if she could see the way to it.”

“With the greatest pleasure. Since arriving here and deciding on a certain... journey, I want to make some necessary arrangements. I left my children with an aunt. They are well provided for and have no need of me personally. And what a fine father I would make! I have taken nothing except what Marfa Petrovna gave me a year ago. That’s enough for me. Excuse me, I’m coming to the point. Before the journey, if it takes place, I also want to settle matters with Mr. Luzhin. It’s not that I detest him so much. But he was the reason I quarreled with Marfa Petrovna when I learned she had arranged this marriage. Now I want you to arrange for me to see Avdotya Romanovna, with you present if you like. First, I want to explain that Mr. Luzhin will never bring her anything but harm. Then I want to ask her forgiveness for all the unpleasantness in the past. I also want to give her ten thousand roubles to help her break with Mr. Luzhin. I believe she is not unwilling to break with him, if she can see a way to do it.”

“You are certainly mad,” cried Raskolnikov not so much angered as astonished. “How dare you talk like that!”

“You must be crazy,” cried Raskolnikov, more astonished than angry. “How dare you talk like that!”

“I knew you would scream at me; but in the first place, though I am not rich, this ten thousand roubles is perfectly free; I have absolutely no need for it. If Avdotya Romanovna does not accept it, I shall waste it in some more foolish way. That’s the first thing. Secondly, my conscience is perfectly easy; I make the offer with no ulterior motive. You may not believe it, but in the end Avdotya Romanovna and you will know. The point is, that I did actually cause your sister, whom I greatly respect, some trouble and unpleasantness, and so, sincerely regretting it, I want—not to compensate, not to repay her for the unpleasantness, but simply to do something to her advantage, to show that I am not, after all, privileged to do nothing but harm. If there were a millionth fraction of self-interest in my offer, I should not have made it so openly; and I should not have offered her ten thousand only, when five weeks ago I offered her more. Besides, I may, perhaps, very soon marry a young lady, and that alone ought to prevent suspicion of any design on Avdotya Romanovna. In conclusion, let me say that in marrying Mr. Luzhin, she is taking money just the same, only from another man. Don’t be angry, Rodion Romanovitch, think it over coolly and quietly.”

“I knew you would shout at me. But first of all, although I’m not rich, this ten thousand roubles is entirely at my disposal. I have absolutely no need for it. If Avdotya Romanovna doesn’t accept it, I’ll waste it on something even more foolish. That’s the first thing. “Second, my conscience is completely clear. I’m making the offer with no ulterior motive. You may not believe me, but in the end, you and Avdotya Romanovna will know. The point is that I did cause your sister, whom I greatly respect, some trouble and distress. I sincerely regret it. I don’t want to compensate or repay her for the distress. I simply want to do something for her benefit, to show that I’m not, after all, entitled only to cause harm. If there were even the slightest self-interest in my offer, I wouldn’t have made it so openly. And I wouldn’t have offered her only ten thousand when I offered her more five weeks ago. “Besides, I may perhaps marry a young lady very soon. That alone should prevent any suspicion that I have designs on Avdotya Romanovna. Finally, let me say that by marrying Mr. Luzhin, she’ll be accepting money just the same, only from another man. Don’t be angry, Rodion Romanovitch. Think it over calmly and quietly.”

Svidrigaïlov himself was exceedingly cool and quiet as he was saying this.

Svidrigaïlov himself was very calm and quiet as he said this.

“I beg you to say no more,” said Raskolnikov. “In any case this is unpardonable impertinence.”

“Please say no more,” said Raskolnikov. “In any case, this is inexcusable rudeness.”

“Not in the least. Then a man may do nothing but harm to his neighbour in this world, and is prevented from doing the tiniest bit of good by trivial conventional formalities. That’s absurd. If I died, for instance, and left that sum to your sister in my will, surely she wouldn’t refuse it?”

“Not at all. Then a man may only do harm to others in this world. Trivial social rules prevent him from doing even the smallest good. That’s absurd. If I died, for example, and left that sum to your sister in my will, surely she wouldn’t refuse it?”

“Very likely she would.”

“She probably would.”

“Oh, no, indeed. However, if you refuse it, so be it, though ten thousand roubles is a capital thing to have on occasion. In any case I beg you to repeat what I have said to Avdotya Romanovna.”

“Oh, no, not at all. But if you refuse it, so be it. Though ten thousand roubles can be very useful at times. In any case, please tell Avdotya Romanovna what I have said.”

“No, I won’t.”

“In that case, Rodion Romanovitch, I shall be obliged to try and see her myself and worry her by doing so.”

“In that case, Rodion Romanovitch, I’ll have to try to see her myself, even though that will upset her.”

“And if I do tell her, will you not try to see her?”

“And if I do tell her, won’t you try to see her?”

“I don’t know really what to say. I should like very much to see her once more.”

“I really don’t know what to say. I’d very much like to see her one more time.”

“Don’t hope for it.”

“I’m sorry. But you don’t know me. Perhaps we may become better friends.”

“I’m sorry. But you don’t know me. Maybe we’ll become better friends.”

“You think we may become friends?”

“Do you think we could become friends?”

“And why not?” Svidrigaïlov said, smiling. He stood up and took his hat. “I didn’t quite intend to disturb you and I came here without reckoning on it... though I was very much struck by your face this morning.”

“And why not?” Svidrigaïlov said, smiling. He stood up and picked up his hat. “I didn’t quite mean to disturb you, and I came here without expecting to... though your face made a strong impression on me this morning.”

“Where did you see me this morning?” Raskolnikov asked uneasily.

“I saw you by chance.... I keep fancying there is something about you like me.... But don’t be uneasy. I am not intrusive; I used to get on all right with card-sharpers, and I never bored Prince Svirbey, a great personage who is a distant relation of mine, and I could write about Raphael’s Madonna in Madam Prilukov’s album, and I never left Marfa Petrovna’s side for seven years, and I used to stay the night at Viazemsky’s house in the Hay Market in the old days, and I may go up in a balloon with Berg, perhaps.”

“I saw you by chance.... I keep thinking there’s something about you that’s like me.... But don’t worry. I don’t impose on people. I used to get along fine with card cheats, and I never bored Prince Svirbey. He’s an important man and a distant relative of mine. I could write about Raphael’s Madonna in Madam Prilukov’s album. And I never left Marfa Petrovna’s side for seven years. In the old days, I used to stay overnight at Viazemsky’s house in the Hay Market. And perhaps I may go up in a balloon with Berg.”

“Oh, all right. Are you starting soon on your travels, may I ask?”

“Oh, all right. May I ask if you’re leaving on your trip soon?”

“What travels?”

“Why, on that ‘journey’; you spoke of it yourself.”

“Why, on that ‘journey’. You mentioned it yourself.”

“A journey? Oh, yes. I did speak of a journey. Well, that’s a wide subject.... if only you knew what you are asking,” he added, and gave a sudden, loud, short laugh. “Perhaps I’ll get married instead of the journey. They’re making a match for me.”

“A trip? Oh, yes. I did mention a trip. Well, that’s a big subject.... If only you knew what you were asking,” he added, with a sudden, loud, short laugh. “Perhaps I’ll get married instead of going on the trip. They’re arranging a match for me.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“How have you had time for that?”

“How did you find time for that?”

“But I am very anxious to see Avdotya Romanovna once. I earnestly beg it. Well, good-bye for the present. Oh, yes. I have forgotten something. Tell your sister, Rodion Romanovitch, that Marfa Petrovna remembered her in her will and left her three thousand roubles. That’s absolutely certain. Marfa Petrovna arranged it a week before her death, and it was done in my presence. Avdotya Romanovna will be able to receive the money in two or three weeks.”

“But I’m very eager to see Avdotya Romanovna just once. I beg you to let me. Well, goodbye for now. Oh, yes. I forgot something. Rodion Romanovitch, tell your sister that Marfa Petrovna left her three thousand roubles in her will. That’s absolutely certain. Marfa Petrovna arranged it a week before she died, and I was there when she did it. Avdotya Romanovna will be able to collect the money in two or three weeks.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“Yes, tell her. Well, your servant. I am staying very near you.”

“Yes, tell her. Well, goodbye. I’m staying very close to you.”

As he went out, Svidrigaïlov ran up against Razumihin in the doorway.

As he left, Svidrigaïlov ran into Razumihin in the doorway.