Chapter 2

“Ah these cigarettes!” Porfiry Petrovitch ejaculated at last, having lighted one. “They are pernicious, positively pernicious, and yet I can’t give them up! I cough, I began to have tickling in my throat and a difficulty in breathing. You know I am a coward, I went lately to Dr. B——n; he always gives at least half an hour to each patient. He positively laughed looking at me; he sounded me: ‘Tobacco’s bad for you,’ he said, ‘your lungs are affected.’ But how am I to give it up? What is there to take its place? I don’t drink, that’s the mischief, he-he-he, that I don’t. Everything is relative, Rodion Romanovitch, everything is relative!”

“Ah, these cigarettes!” Porfiry Petrovitch exclaimed at last, after lighting one. “They’re harmful, positively harmful, and yet I can’t give them up! I cough, and I’ve started to feel a tickle in my throat and have trouble breathing. You know I’m a coward. I went to Dr. B——n recently. He always gives each patient at least half an hour. He actually laughed when he looked at me. He listened to my lungs. ‘Tobacco’s bad for you,’ he said. ‘Your lungs are affected.’ But how can I give it up? What can I put in its place? I don’t drink. That’s the trouble, he-he-he, I don’t drink. Everything is relative, Rodion Romanovitch, everything is relative!”

“Why, he’s playing his professional tricks again,” Raskolnikov thought with disgust. All the circumstances of their last interview suddenly came back to him, and he felt a rush of the feeling that had come upon him then.

“He’s using his professional tricks again,” Raskolnikov thought with disgust. All the details of their last meeting suddenly came back to him. He felt a rush of the same feeling he had experienced then.

“I came to see you the day before yesterday, in the evening; you didn’t know?” Porfiry Petrovitch went on, looking round the room. “I came into this very room. I was passing by, just as I did to-day, and I thought I’d return your call. I walked in as your door was wide open, I looked round, waited and went out without leaving my name with your servant. Don’t you lock your door?”

“I came to see you the evening before last. Didn’t you know?” Porfiry Petrovitch continued, looking around the room. “I came into this very room. I was passing by, just as I was today, and thought I’d return your visit. Your door was wide open, so I walked in. I looked around, waited, and left without giving your servant my name. Don’t you lock your door?”

Raskolnikov’s face grew more and more gloomy. Porfiry seemed to guess his state of mind.

Raskolnikov’s face grew increasingly gloomy. Porfiry seemed to sense what he was feeling.

“I’ve come to have it out with you, Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow! I owe you an explanation and must give it to you,” he continued with a slight smile, just patting Raskolnikov’s knee.

“I’ve come to talk things out with you, Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow! I owe you an explanation, and I have to give you one,” he continued with a slight smile, gently patting Raskolnikov’s knee.

But almost at the same instant a serious and careworn look came into his face; to his surprise Raskolnikov saw a touch of sadness in it. He had never seen and never suspected such an expression in his face.

But almost at the same moment, his face grew serious and worried. To Raskolnikov’s surprise, he also saw a trace of sadness. He had never seen or even suspected such an expression on his face.

“A strange scene passed between us last time we met, Rodion Romanovitch. Our first interview, too, was a strange one; but then... and one thing after another! This is the point: I have perhaps acted unfairly to you; I feel it. Do you remember how we parted? Your nerves were unhinged and your knees were shaking and so were mine. And, you know, our behaviour was unseemly, even ungentlemanly. And yet we are gentlemen, above all, in any case, gentlemen; that must be understood. Do you remember what we came to?... it was quite indecorous.”

“Something strange happened between us the last time we met, Rodion Romanovitch. Our first meeting was strange too, but then... one thing led to another! The point is, perhaps I’ve treated you unfairly. I feel that I have. Do you remember how we parted? Your nerves were shattered and your knees were shaking, and so were mine. And, you know, we behaved badly, even like people who weren’t gentlemen. And yet we are gentlemen, above all else, gentlemen in any case. That must be understood. Do you remember what it came to?... it was quite improper.”

“What is he up to, what does he take me for?” Raskolnikov asked himself in amazement, raising his head and looking with open eyes on Porfiry.

“What is he up to? What does he take me for?” Raskolnikov wondered in amazement. He raised his head and looked at Porfiry with wide eyes.

“I’ve decided openness is better between us,” Porfiry Petrovitch went on, turning his head away and dropping his eyes, as though unwilling to disconcert his former victim and as though disdaining his former wiles. “Yes, such suspicions and such scenes cannot continue for long. Nikolay put a stop to it, or I don’t know what we might not have come to. That damned workman was sitting at the time in the next room—can you realise that? You know that, of course; and I am aware that he came to you afterwards. But what you supposed then was not true: I had not sent for anyone, I had made no kind of arrangements. You ask why I hadn’t? What shall I say to you; it had all come upon me so suddenly. I had scarcely sent for the porters (you noticed them as you went out, I dare say). An idea flashed upon me; I was firmly convinced at the time, you see, Rodion Romanovitch. Come, I thought—even if I let one thing slip for a time, I shall get hold of something else—I shan’t lose what I want, anyway. You are nervously irritable, Rodion Romanovitch, by temperament; it’s out of proportion with other qualities of your heart and character, which I flatter myself I have to some extent divined. Of course I did reflect even then that it does not always happen that a man gets up and blurts out his whole story. It does happen sometimes, if you make a man lose all patience, though even then it’s rare. I was capable of realising that. If I only had a fact, I thought, the least little fact to go upon, something I could lay hold of, something tangible, not merely psychological. For if a man is guilty, you must be able to get something substantial out of him; one may reckon upon most surprising results indeed. I was reckoning on your temperament, Rodion Romanovitch, on your temperament above all things! I had great hopes of you at that time.”

“I’ve decided it’s better for us to be open with each other,” Porfiry Petrovitch went on. He turned his head away and lowered his eyes, as if he didn’t want to unsettle his former victim. He seemed to be rejecting his old tricks. “Yes, suspicions and scenes like that can’t go on for long. Nikolay put a stop to it, or I don’t know what we might have ended up doing. That damned workman was sitting in the next room at the time. Can you imagine that? Of course you know that, and I know he came to see you afterward. But what you thought then wasn’t true. I hadn’t sent for anyone or made any arrangements. You ask why I hadn’t? What can I say? It all happened so suddenly. I had barely had time to send for the porters. I dare say you noticed them as you left. “An idea flashed through my mind. You see, Rodion Romanovitch, I was firmly convinced at the time. I thought, well, even if I let one thing slip for a while, I’ll get hold of something else. I won’t lose what I want, anyway. You’re easily upset, Rodion Romanovitch. It’s part of your temperament, and it’s out of proportion with the other qualities of your heart and character. I flatter myself that I’ve understood those qualities to some extent. “Of course, even then I knew a man doesn’t always get up and blurt out his whole story. It does happen sometimes if you make a man lose all patience, though even then it’s rare. I was capable of understanding that. If only I had a fact, I thought, the smallest fact to work with. Something I could seize on, something tangible, not just psychological. For if a man is guilty, you must be able to get something substantial out of him. You can count on some truly surprising results. I was counting on your temperament, Rodion Romanovitch, above all else! I had great hopes of you then.”

“But what are you driving at now?” Raskolnikov muttered at last, asking the question without thinking.

“But what are you getting at now?” Raskolnikov muttered at last, asking without thinking.

“What is he talking about?” he wondered distractedly, “does he really take me to be innocent?”

“What is he talking about?” he wondered distractedly. “Does he really think I’m innocent?”

“What am I driving at? I’ve come to explain myself, I consider it my duty, so to speak. I want to make clear to you how the whole business, the whole misunderstanding arose. I’ve caused you a great deal of suffering, Rodion Romanovitch. I am not a monster. I understand what it must mean for a man who has been unfortunate, but who is proud, imperious and above all, impatient, to have to bear such treatment! I regard you in any case as a man of noble character and not without elements of magnanimity, though I don’t agree with all your convictions. I wanted to tell you this first, frankly and quite sincerely, for above all I don’t want to deceive you. When I made your acquaintance, I felt attracted by you. Perhaps you will laugh at my saying so. You have a right to. I know you disliked me from the first and indeed you’ve no reason to like me. You may think what you like, but I desire now to do all I can to efface that impression and to show that I am a man of heart and conscience. I speak sincerely.”

“What am I getting at? I’ve come to explain myself. I feel it’s my duty, so to speak. I want to make clear how this whole business, this whole misunderstanding, came about. I’ve caused you a great deal of suffering, Rodion Romanovitch. I’m not a monster. I understand what such treatment must mean to a man who has suffered misfortune. Especially one who is proud, commanding, and above all, impatient! In any case, I consider you a man of noble character, with some generosity of spirit. That’s true even though I don’t agree with all your beliefs. “I wanted to tell you this first, frankly and quite sincerely. Above all, I don’t want to deceive you. When I met you, I felt drawn to you. Perhaps you’ll laugh at me for saying so. You have a right to. I know you disliked me from the start, and you have no reason to like me. You may think what you like. But I now want to do all I can to erase that impression. I want to show that I’m a man with a heart and a conscience. I mean that sincerely.”

Porfiry Petrovitch made a dignified pause. Raskolnikov felt a rush of renewed alarm. The thought that Porfiry believed him to be innocent began to make him uneasy.

Porfiry Petrovitch paused with dignity. Raskolnikov felt a fresh rush of alarm. The thought that Porfiry believed him innocent began to trouble him.

“It’s scarcely necessary to go over everything in detail,” Porfiry Petrovitch went on. “Indeed, I could scarcely attempt it. To begin with there were rumours. Through whom, how, and when those rumours came to me... and how they affected you, I need not go into. My suspicions were aroused by a complete accident, which might just as easily not have happened. What was it? Hm! I believe there is no need to go into that either. Those rumours and that accident led to one idea in my mind. I admit it openly—for one may as well make a clean breast of it—I was the first to pitch on you. The old woman’s notes on the pledges and the rest of it—that all came to nothing. Yours was one of a hundred. I happened, too, to hear of the scene at the office, from a man who described it capitally, unconsciously reproducing the scene with great vividness. It was just one thing after another, Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow! How could I avoid being brought to certain ideas? From a hundred rabbits you can’t make a horse, a hundred suspicions don’t make a proof, as the English proverb says, but that’s only from the rational point of view—you can’t help being partial, for after all a lawyer is only human. I thought, too, of your article in that journal, do you remember, on your first visit we talked of it? I jeered at you at the time, but that was only to lead you on. I repeat, Rodion Romanovitch, you are ill and impatient. That you were bold, headstrong, in earnest and... had felt a great deal I recognised long before. I, too, have felt the same, so that your article seemed familiar to me. It was conceived on sleepless nights, with a throbbing heart, in ecstasy and suppressed enthusiasm. And that proud suppressed enthusiasm in young people is dangerous! I jeered at you then, but let me tell you that, as a literary amateur, I am awfully fond of such first essays, full of the heat of youth. There is a mistiness and a chord vibrating in the mist. Your article is absurd and fantastic, but there’s a transparent sincerity, a youthful incorruptible pride and the daring of despair in it. It’s a gloomy article, but that’s what’s fine in it. I read your article and put it aside, thinking as I did so ‘that man won’t go the common way.’ Well, I ask you, after that as a preliminary, how could I help being carried away by what followed? Oh, dear, I am not saying anything, I am not making any statement now. I simply noted it at the time. What is there in it? I reflected. There’s nothing in it, that is really nothing and perhaps absolutely nothing. And it’s not at all the thing for the prosecutor to let himself be carried away by notions: here I have Nikolay on my hands with actual evidence against him—you may think what you like of it, but it’s evidence. He brings in his psychology, too; one has to consider him, too, for it’s a matter of life and death. Why am I explaining this to you? That you may understand, and not blame my malicious behaviour on that occasion. It was not malicious, I assure you, he-he! Do you suppose I didn’t come to search your room at the time? I did, I did, he-he! I was here when you were lying ill in bed, not officially, not in my own person, but I was here. Your room was searched to the last thread at the first suspicion; but umsonst! I thought to myself, now that man will come, will come of himself and quickly, too; if he’s guilty, he’s sure to come. Another man wouldn’t, but he will. And you remember how Mr. Razumihin began discussing the subject with you? We arranged that to excite you, so we purposely spread rumours, that he might discuss the case with you, and Razumihin is not a man to restrain his indignation. Mr. Zametov was tremendously struck by your anger and your open daring. Think of blurting out in a restaurant ‘I killed her.’ It was too daring, too reckless. I thought to myself, if he is guilty he will be a formidable opponent. That was what I thought at the time. I was expecting you. But you simply bowled Zametov over and... well, you see, it all lies in this—that this damnable psychology can be taken two ways! Well, I kept expecting you, and so it was, you came! My heart was fairly throbbing. Ach!

“It’s hardly necessary to go over everything in detail,” Porfiry Petrovitch continued. “In fact, I could hardly attempt it. To begin with, there were rumors. I needn’t explain who brought them to me, how or when they reached me, or how they affected you. My suspicions were aroused by a complete accident, which might just as easily never have happened. What was it? Hm! I don’t think I need to go into that either. Those rumors and that accident gave me an idea. I admit it openly, since I might as well confess everything. I was the first to suspect you. The old woman’s notes on the pawned items and everything else came to nothing. Yours was one of a hundred. I also happened to hear about the scene at the office. The man who told me described it wonderfully, bringing it vividly to life without even realizing it. It was one thing after another, Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow! How could I help forming certain ideas? You can’t make a horse out of a hundred rabbits, and a hundred suspicions don’t make a proof, as the English proverb says. But that’s only from the rational point of view. You can’t help forming a bias. After all, a lawyer is only human. “I also thought of your article in that journal. Do you remember how we talked about it on your first visit? I mocked you then, but only to draw you out. I repeat, Rodion Romanovitch, you are ill and impatient. Long before that, I had recognized that you were bold, headstrong, and earnest and... had felt a great deal. I have felt the same way myself, so your article seemed familiar to me. You conceived it on sleepless nights, your heart pounding, in a state of ecstasy and suppressed enthusiasm. And that proud, suppressed enthusiasm in young people is dangerous! I mocked you then, but let me tell you something. As a literary amateur, I’m awfully fond of first essays like that, full of youthful passion. There’s a mistiness to them, and a chord vibrating in the mist. Your article is absurd and fantastic. But it has a clear sincerity, a youthful pride that cannot be corrupted, and the daring of despair. It’s a gloomy article, but that’s what’s fine about it. I read it and put it aside, thinking, ‘That man won’t take the usual path.’ So I ask you, after that, how could I help getting carried away by what followed? “Oh, dear, I’m not saying anything. I’m not making any claim now. I simply took note of it at the time. What did it amount to? I asked myself. Nothing, really nothing, and perhaps absolutely nothing. And a prosecutor certainly shouldn’t let himself be carried away by ideas. Here I have Nikolay on my hands, with actual evidence against him. You may think what you like of it, but it’s evidence. His psychology comes into it too. One has to consider him too, because it’s a matter of life and death. Why am I explaining this to you? So that you’ll understand and won’t blame me for my malicious behavior on that occasion. It wasn’t malicious, I assure you, he-he! “Do you suppose I didn’t come to search your room then? I did, I did, he-he! I was here when you were lying ill in bed. Not officially, and not in person, but I was here. Your room was searched down to the last thread as soon as suspicion arose. But umsonst! I thought, now that man will come. He’ll come of his own accord, and quickly too. If he’s guilty, he’s sure to come. Another man wouldn’t, but he will. And do you remember how Mr. Razumihin started discussing the matter with you? We arranged that to stir you up. We deliberately spread rumors so that he would discuss the case with you. And Razumihin isn’t a man to hold back his indignation. Mr. Zametov was tremendously struck by your anger and your open defiance. Imagine blurting out ‘I killed her’ in a restaurant. It was too daring, too reckless. I thought, if he’s guilty, he’ll be a formidable opponent. That’s what I thought at the time. I was expecting you. But you completely stunned Zametov and... well, you see, the whole thing comes down to this. That damnable psychology can be interpreted two ways! Well, I kept expecting you, and sure enough, you came! My heart was practically pounding. Ach!

“Now, why need you have come? Your laughter, too, as you came in, do you remember? I saw it all plain as daylight, but if I hadn’t expected you so specially, I should not have noticed anything in your laughter. You see what influence a mood has! Mr. Razumihin then—ah, that stone, that stone under which the things were hidden! I seem to see it somewhere in a kitchen garden. It was in a kitchen garden, you told Zametov and afterwards you repeated that in my office? And when we began picking your article to pieces, how you explained it! One could take every word of yours in two senses, as though there were another meaning hidden.

“Now, why did you need to come? And your laughter when you came in, do you remember? I saw it all as clearly as daylight. But if I hadn’t been expecting you so particularly, I wouldn’t have noticed anything in your laughter. You see how much influence a mood has! Then Mr. Razumihin. Ah, that stone, that stone under which the things were hidden! I seem to see it somewhere in a vegetable garden. It was in a vegetable garden, you told Zametov, and later you repeated that in my office? And when we began picking your article apart, how you explained it! Every word you said could be understood in two ways, as though it had another meaning hidden in it.

“So in this way, Rodion Romanovitch, I reached the furthest limit, and knocking my head against a post, I pulled myself up, asking myself what I was about. After all, I said, you can take it all in another sense if you like, and it’s more natural so, indeed. I couldn’t help admitting it was more natural. I was bothered! ‘No, I’d better get hold of some little fact’ I said. So when I heard of the bell-ringing, I held my breath and was all in a tremor. ‘Here is my little fact,’ thought I, and I didn’t think it over, I simply wouldn’t. I would have given a thousand roubles at that minute to have seen you with my own eyes, when you walked a hundred paces beside that workman, after he had called you murderer to your face, and you did not dare to ask him a question all the way. And then what about your trembling, what about your bell-ringing in your illness, in semi-delirium?

“So that’s how I reached the very limit, Rodion Romanovitch. It was like banging my head against a post. I stopped myself and asked what I was doing. After all, I said, you can interpret it all another way if you like. In fact, that’s more natural. I had to admit it was more natural. I was troubled! ‘No, I’d better find some little fact,’ I said. So when I heard about the bell-ringing, I held my breath and trembled all over. ‘Here is my little fact,’ I thought. I didn’t think it over. I simply refused to. At that moment, I would have given a thousand roubles to see you with my own eyes. The workman had called you a murderer to your face. Then you walked a hundred paces beside him without daring to ask him a question. And what about your trembling? What about your ringing the bell while you were ill and half delirious?

“And so, Rodion Romanovitch, can you wonder that I played such pranks on you? And what made you come at that very minute? Someone seemed to have sent you, by Jove! And if Nikolay had not parted us... and do you remember Nikolay at the time? Do you remember him clearly? It was a thunderbolt, a regular thunderbolt! And how I met him! I didn’t believe in the thunderbolt, not for a minute. You could see it for yourself; and how could I? Even afterwards, when you had gone and he began making very, very plausible answers on certain points, so that I was surprised at him myself, even then I didn’t believe his story! You see what it is to be as firm as a rock! No, thought I, Morgenfrüh. What has Nikolay got to do with it!”

“And so, Rodion Romanovitch, can you really wonder why I played such tricks on you? And what made you come at that very moment? Someone must have sent you, by God! And if Nikolay hadn’t interrupted us... Do you remember Nikolay then? Do you remember him clearly? It was like a thunderbolt, a real thunderbolt! And the way I met him! I didn’t believe in the thunderbolt for a minute. You could see that for yourself. How could I have believed it? Even after you left, he gave very, very plausible answers on certain points. He even surprised me. But I still didn’t believe his story! You see what it means to be as firm as a rock! No, I thought, Morgenfrüh. What does Nikolay have to do with it!”

“Razumihin told me just now that you think Nikolay guilty and had yourself assured him of it....”

“Razumihin just told me that you think Nikolay is guilty and that you assured him of it yourself....”

His voice failed him, and he broke off. He had been listening in indescribable agitation, as this man who had seen through and through him, went back upon himself. He was afraid of believing it and did not believe it. In those still ambiguous words he kept eagerly looking for something more definite and conclusive.

His voice gave out, and he stopped. He had been listening with indescribable agitation as the man who had seen right through him took back what he had said. He was afraid to believe it and did not believe it. He kept searching those still ambiguous words for something more definite and conclusive.

“Mr. Razumihin!” cried Porfiry Petrovitch, seeming glad of a question from Raskolnikov, who had till then been silent. “He-he-he! But I had to put Mr. Razumihin off; two is company, three is none. Mr. Razumihin is not the right man, besides he is an outsider. He came running to me with a pale face.... But never mind him, why bring him in? To return to Nikolay, would you like to know what sort of a type he is, how I understand him, that is? To begin with, he is still a child and not exactly a coward, but something by way of an artist. Really, don’t laugh at my describing him so. He is innocent and responsive to influence. He has a heart, and is a fantastic fellow. He sings and dances, he tells stories, they say, so that people come from other villages to hear him. He attends school too, and laughs till he cries if you hold up a finger to him; he will drink himself senseless—not as a regular vice, but at times, when people treat him, like a child. And he stole, too, then, without knowing it himself, for ‘How can it be stealing, if one picks it up?’ And do you know he is an Old Believer, or rather a dissenter? There have been Wanderers[*] in his family, and he was for two years in his village under the spiritual guidance of a certain elder. I learnt all this from Nikolay and from his fellow villagers. And what’s more, he wanted to run into the wilderness! He was full of fervour, prayed at nights, read the old books, ‘the true’ ones, and read himself crazy.

“Mr. Razumihin!” cried Porfiry Petrovitch, seeming glad that Raskolnikov, who had been silent until then, had asked a question. “He-he-he! But I had to put Mr. Razumihin off. Two is company, three is a crowd. Mr. Razumihin isn’t the right man, and besides, he’s an outsider. He came running to me, pale as a ghost.... But never mind him. Why bring him into it? “To return to Nikolay, would you like to know what sort of person he is? I mean, how I understand him? To begin with, he’s still a child. He’s not exactly a coward, but something of an artist. Really, don’t laugh at me for calling him that. He’s innocent and easily influenced. He has a heart, and he’s a fanciful fellow. He sings and dances, and he tells stories. They say people come from other villages to hear him. He goes to school too, and laughs until he cries if you hold up a finger at him. He’ll drink himself senseless, not as a regular habit, but sometimes when people buy him drinks, like a child. And he stole, too, without realizing it. After all, ‘How can it be stealing if you just pick something up?’ “And do you know he’s an Old Believer, or rather, a dissenter? There have been Wanderers[*] in his family. For two years, an elder in his village was his spiritual guide. I learned all this from Nikolay and his fellow villagers. And what’s more, he wanted to run off into the wilderness! He was full of religious fervor. He prayed at night and read the old books, the ‘true’ ones. He read until he drove himself crazy.

“Petersburg had a great effect upon him, especially the women and the wine. He responds to everything and he forgot the elder and all that. I learnt that an artist here took a fancy to him, and used to go and see him, and now this business came upon him.

“Petersburg had a great effect on him, especially the women and the wine. He responds to everything, and he forgot the elder and all that. I learned that an artist here took a liking to him and used to visit him. And now this business came upon him.

“Well, he was frightened, he tried to hang himself! He ran away! How can one get over the idea the people have of Russian legal proceedings? The very word ‘trial’ frightens some of them. Whose fault is it? We shall see what the new juries will do. God grant they do good! Well, in prison, it seems, he remembered the venerable elder; the Bible, too, made its appearance again. Do you know, Rodion Romanovitch, the force of the word ‘suffering’ among some of these people! It’s not a question of suffering for someone’s benefit, but simply, ‘one must suffer.’ If they suffer at the hands of the authorities, so much the better. In my time there was a very meek and mild prisoner who spent a whole year in prison always reading his Bible on the stove at night and he read himself crazy, and so crazy, do you know, that one day, apropos of nothing, he seized a brick and flung it at the governor; though he had done him no harm. And the way he threw it too: aimed it a yard on one side on purpose, for fear of hurting him. Well, we know what happens to a prisoner who assaults an officer with a weapon. So ‘he took his suffering.’

“Well, he was frightened, and he tried to hang himself! He ran away! How can we overcome people’s fears about Russian legal proceedings? The very word ‘trial’ frightens some of them. Whose fault is it? We’ll see what the new juries do. God grant that they do good! Well, in prison, it seems, he remembered the venerable elder. The Bible appeared again, too. Do you know, Rodion Romanovitch, how powerful the word ‘suffering’ is for some of these people? It’s not about suffering for someone’s benefit. It’s simply that ‘one must suffer.’ If they suffer at the hands of the authorities, so much the better. In my day, there was a very gentle, mild prisoner who spent a whole year in prison. Every night, he read his Bible on the stove until he drove himself crazy. And he was so crazy, you know, that one day he suddenly grabbed a brick and threw it at the governor. The governor had done him no harm. And the way he threw it! He deliberately aimed a yard to one side, for fear of hurting him. Well, we know what happens to a prisoner who attacks an officer with a weapon. So ‘he took his suffering.’

“So I suspect now that Nikolay wants to take his suffering or something of the sort. I know it for certain from facts, indeed. Only he doesn’t know that I know. What, you don’t admit that there are such fantastic people among the peasants? Lots of them. The elder now has begun influencing him, especially since he tried to hang himself. But he’ll come and tell me all himself. You think he’ll hold out? Wait a bit, he’ll take his words back. I am waiting from hour to hour for him to come and abjure his evidence. I have come to like that Nikolay and am studying him in detail. And what do you think? He-he! He answered me very plausibly on some points, he obviously had collected some evidence and prepared himself cleverly. But on other points he is simply at sea, knows nothing and doesn’t even suspect that he doesn’t know!

“So now I suspect Nikolay wants to suffer for his sins, or something like that. In fact, I know it for certain from the evidence. Only he doesn’t know that I know. What, don’t you believe there are such fanciful people among the peasants? There are plenty of them. The elder has started influencing him, especially since Nikolay tried to hang himself. But Nikolay will come and tell me everything himself. Do you think he’ll stick to his story? Just wait, he’ll take it back. I’m expecting him at any hour to come and withdraw his testimony. I’ve grown fond of Nikolay, and I’m studying him closely. And what do you think? He-he! He gave me very convincing answers on some points. He had clearly gathered some evidence and prepared himself cleverly. But on other points he’s completely lost. He knows nothing, and he doesn’t even suspect how little he knows!

“No, Rodion Romanovitch, Nikolay doesn’t come in! This is a fantastic, gloomy business, a modern case, an incident of to-day when the heart of man is troubled, when the phrase is quoted that blood ‘renews,’ when comfort is preached as the aim of life. Here we have bookish dreams, a heart unhinged by theories. Here we see resolution in the first stage, but resolution of a special kind: he resolved to do it like jumping over a precipice or from a bell tower and his legs shook as he went to the crime. He forgot to shut the door after him, and murdered two people for a theory. He committed the murder and couldn’t take the money, and what he did manage to snatch up he hid under a stone. It wasn’t enough for him to suffer agony behind the door while they battered at the door and rung the bell, no, he had to go to the empty lodging, half delirious, to recall the bell-ringing, he wanted to feel the cold shiver over again.... Well, that we grant, was through illness, but consider this: he is a murderer, but looks upon himself as an honest man, despises others, poses as injured innocence. No, that’s not the work of a Nikolay, my dear Rodion Romanovitch!”

“No, Rodion Romanovitch, Nikolay has nothing to do with it! This is a fantastic, gloomy business, a modern case, something that happens today. These are times when the human heart is troubled, when people repeat the phrase that blood ‘renews,’ and preach comfort as the aim of life. Here we have dreams drawn from books, a heart driven off balance by theories. We see the first stage of a decision, but a special kind of decision. He decided to do it as if he were jumping off a cliff or a bell tower. His legs shook as he went to commit the crime. He forgot to shut the door behind him and murdered two people for a theory. He committed the murder but couldn’t take the money. What he did manage to grab, he hid under a stone. “It wasn’t enough for him to suffer in agony behind the door while they pounded on it and rang the bell. No, he had to go to the empty apartment, half delirious, to remember the ringing. He wanted to feel that cold shiver again.... Well, we admit that was because he was ill. But consider this: he is a murderer, yet he sees himself as an honest man. He despises others and acts like an innocent man who has been wronged. No, that’s not Nikolay’s doing, my dear Rodion Romanovitch!”

All that had been said before had sounded so like a recantation that these words were too great a shock. Raskolnikov shuddered as though he had been stabbed.

Everything said before had sounded so much like a retraction that these words came as a terrible shock. Raskolnikov shuddered as if he had been stabbed.

“Then... who then... is the murderer?” he asked in a breathless voice, unable to restrain himself.

“Then... who, then... is the murderer?” he asked breathlessly, unable to hold back.

Porfiry Petrovitch sank back in his chair, as though he were amazed at the question.

Porfiry Petrovitch sank back in his chair, as if amazed by the question.

“Who is the murderer?” he repeated, as though unable to believe his ears. “Why, you, Rodion Romanovitch! You are the murderer,” he added, almost in a whisper, in a voice of genuine conviction.

“Who is the murderer?” he repeated, as if he couldn't believe his ears. “Why, you, Rodion Romanovitch! You are the murderer,” he added, almost whispering, his voice full of genuine conviction.

Raskolnikov leapt from the sofa, stood up for a few seconds and sat down again without uttering a word. His face twitched convulsively.

Raskolnikov jumped up from the sofa. He stood for a few seconds, then sat down again without saying a word. His face twitched uncontrollably.

“Your lip is twitching just as it did before,” Porfiry Petrovitch observed almost sympathetically. “You’ve been misunderstanding me, I think, Rodion Romanovitch,” he added after a brief pause, “that’s why you are so surprised. I came on purpose to tell you everything and deal openly with you.”

“Your lip is twitching just as it did before,” Porfiry Petrovitch said, almost sympathetically. After a brief pause, he added, “I think you’ve misunderstood me, Rodion Romanovitch. That’s why you’re so surprised. I came here specifically to tell you everything and be open with you.”

“It was not I murdered her,” Raskolnikov whispered like a frightened child caught in the act.

“I didn’t murder her,” Raskolnikov whispered like a frightened child caught in the act.

“No, it was you, you, Rodion Romanovitch, and no one else,” Porfiry whispered sternly, with conviction.

“No, it was you, you, Rodion Romanovitch, and no one else,” Porfiry whispered sternly, certain of it.

They were both silent and the silence lasted strangely long, about ten minutes. Raskolnikov put his elbow on the table and passed his fingers through his hair. Porfiry Petrovitch sat quietly waiting. Suddenly Raskolnikov looked scornfully at Porfiry.

They were both silent. The silence lasted a strangely long time, about ten minutes. Raskolnikov rested his elbow on the table and ran his fingers through his hair. Porfiry Petrovitch sat quietly, waiting. Suddenly, Raskolnikov looked at Porfiry with scorn.

“You are at your old tricks again, Porfiry Petrovitch! Your old method again. I wonder you don’t get sick of it!”

“You’re up to your old tricks again, Porfiry Petrovitch! The same old method. I’m surprised you don’t get sick of it!”

“Oh, stop that, what does that matter now? It would be a different matter if there were witnesses present, but we are whispering alone. You see yourself that I have not come to chase and capture you like a hare. Whether you confess it or not is nothing to me now; for myself, I am convinced without it.”

“Oh, stop that. What does it matter now? It would be different if there were witnesses here, but we’re whispering alone. You can see I haven’t come to chase you down and capture you like a rabbit. It makes no difference to me now whether you confess or not. I’m convinced even without a confession.”

“If so, what did you come for?” Raskolnikov asked irritably. “I ask you the same question again: if you consider me guilty, why don’t you take me to prison?”

“If that’s true, why did you come?” Raskolnikov asked irritably. “I’ll ask you again: if you think I’m guilty, why don’t you take me to prison?”

“Oh, that’s your question! I will answer you, point for point. In the first place, to arrest you so directly is not to my interest.”

“Oh, that’s your question! I’ll answer it point by point. First, it’s not in my interest to arrest you so directly.”

“How so? If you are convinced you ought....”

“How so? If you're convinced you should....”

“Ach, what if I am convinced? That’s only my dream for the time. Why should I put you in safety? You know that’s it, since you ask me to do it. If I confront you with that workman for instance and you say to him ‘were you drunk or not? Who saw me with you? I simply took you to be drunk, and you were drunk, too.’ Well, what could I answer, especially as your story is a more likely one than his, for there’s nothing but psychology to support his evidence—that’s almost unseemly with his ugly mug, while you hit the mark exactly, for the rascal is an inveterate drunkard and notoriously so. And I have myself admitted candidly several times already that that psychology can be taken in two ways and that the second way is stronger and looks far more probable, and that apart from that I have as yet nothing against you. And though I shall put you in prison and indeed have come—quite contrary to etiquette—to inform you of it beforehand, yet I tell you frankly, also contrary to etiquette, that it won’t be to my advantage. Well, secondly, I’ve come to you because...”

“Oh, what if I am convinced? For now, that’s only my theory. Why should I make you safe? You know that’s what you’re asking me to do. Suppose I bring you face to face with that workman. You could say to him, ‘Were you drunk or not? Who saw me with you? I just thought you were drunk, and you were drunk, too.’ Well, what could I say to that? Your story is more likely than his, especially since nothing but psychology supports his testimony. That’s almost indecent, given his ugly face. But you’d be exactly right, because the rascal is a habitual drunkard, and everyone knows it. And I’ve openly admitted several times already that the psychology can be interpreted two ways. The second interpretation is stronger and looks far more likely. Apart from that, I have nothing against you yet. I’m going to put you in prison, and I’ve even come to tell you beforehand, quite against the rules. But I’ll also tell you frankly, again against the rules, that it won’t be to my advantage. Well, secondly, I’ve come to you because...”

“Yes, yes, secondly?” Raskolnikov was listening breathless.

“Yes, yes, and second?” Raskolnikov listened breathlessly.

“Because, as I told you just now, I consider I owe you an explanation. I don’t want you to look upon me as a monster, as I have a genuine liking for you, you may believe me or not. And in the third place I’ve come to you with a direct and open proposition—that you should surrender and confess. It will be infinitely more to your advantage and to my advantage too, for my task will be done. Well, is this open on my part or not?”

“Because, as I just told you, I believe I owe you an explanation. I don’t want you to think I’m a monster. I genuinely like you, whether you believe me or not. Third, I’ve come to make you a straightforward offer: surrender and confess. It will be far better for you, and for me too, because my job will be done. Well, am I being open with you or not?”

Raskolnikov thought a minute.

Raskolnikov thought for a minute.

“Listen, Porfiry Petrovitch. You said just now you have nothing but psychology to go on, yet now you’ve gone on to mathematics. Well, what if you are mistaken yourself, now?”

“Listen, Porfiry Petrovitch. You just said you had nothing but psychology to go on, but now you’ve moved on to mathematics. Well, what if you’re mistaken yourself?”

“No, Rodion Romanovitch, I am not mistaken. I have a little fact even then, Providence sent it me.”

“No, Rodion Romanovitch, I am not mistaken. Even then, I had one small fact. Providence sent it to me.”

“What little fact?”

“What little fact?”

“I won’t tell you what, Rodion Romanovitch. And in any case, I haven’t the right to put it off any longer, I must arrest you. So think it over: it makes no difference to me now and so I speak only for your sake. Believe me, it will be better, Rodion Romanovitch.”

“I won’t tell you what, Rodion Romanovitch. In any case, I can’t put it off any longer. I must arrest you. So think it over. It makes no difference to me now, so I’m only saying this for your sake. Believe me, it will be better, Rodion Romanovitch.”

Raskolnikov smiled malignantly.

Raskolnikov smiled spitefully.

“That’s not simply ridiculous, it’s positively shameless. Why, even if I were guilty, which I don’t admit, what reason should I have to confess, when you tell me yourself that I shall be in greater safety in prison?”

“That’s not just ridiculous, it’s downright shameless. Even if I were guilty, which I don’t admit, why would I confess? You yourself tell me I’d be safer in prison.”

“Ah, Rodion Romanovitch, don’t put too much faith in words, perhaps prison will not be altogether a restful place. That’s only theory and my theory, and what authority am I for you? Perhaps, too, even now I am hiding something from you? I can’t lay bare everything, he-he! And how can you ask what advantage? Don’t you know how it would lessen your sentence? You would be confessing at a moment when another man has taken the crime on himself and so has muddled the whole case. Consider that! I swear before God that I will so arrange that your confession shall come as a complete surprise. We will make a clean sweep of all these psychological points, of all suspicion against you, so that your crime will appear to have been something like an aberration, for in truth it was an aberration. I am an honest man, Rodion Romanovitch, and will keep my word.”

“Ah, Rodion Romanovitch, don’t put too much faith in words. Perhaps prison won’t be a restful place after all. That’s only a theory, and it’s my theory. Why should you take my word for it? Perhaps even now I’m hiding something from you. I can’t reveal everything, he-he! And how can you ask what you stand to gain? Don’t you know how much it would reduce your sentence? You would be confessing when another man has taken the blame and muddled the whole case. Think about that! I swear before God that I’ll arrange for your confession to come as a complete surprise. We’ll sweep away all these psychological arguments and all suspicion against you. That way, your crime will seem like a kind of aberration, which in truth it was. I’m an honest man, Rodion Romanovitch, and I’ll keep my word.”

Raskolnikov maintained a mournful silence and let his head sink dejectedly. He pondered a long while and at last smiled again, but his smile was sad and gentle.

Raskolnikov remained silent and bowed his head sadly. He thought for a long time and finally smiled again, but his smile was sad and gentle.

“No!” he said, apparently abandoning all attempt to keep up appearances with Porfiry, “it’s not worth it, I don’t care about lessening the sentence!”

“No!” he said. He seemed to give up trying to keep up appearances with Porfiry. “It’s not worth it. I don’t care about getting a shorter sentence!”

“That’s just what I was afraid of!” Porfiry cried warmly and, as it seemed, involuntarily. “That’s just what I feared, that you wouldn’t care about the mitigation of sentence.”

“That’s exactly what I was afraid of!” Porfiry cried warmly, seemingly without meaning to. “I was afraid you wouldn’t care about getting a lighter sentence.”

Raskolnikov looked sadly and expressively at him.

Raskolnikov gave him a sad, expressive look.

“Ah, don’t disdain life!” Porfiry went on. “You have a great deal of it still before you. How can you say you don’t want a mitigation of sentence? You are an impatient fellow!”

“Ah, don’t look down on life!” Porfiry went on. “You still have so much life ahead of you. How can you say you don’t want a lighter sentence? You’re an impatient fellow!”

“A great deal of what lies before me?”

“A lot of what’s ahead of me?”

“Of life. What sort of prophet are you, do you know much about it? Seek and ye shall find. This may be God’s means for bringing you to Him. And it’s not for ever, the bondage....”

“Of life. What kind of prophet are you? Do you know much about life? Seek and you shall find. This may be God’s way of bringing you to him. And your bondage won’t last forever....”

“The time will be shortened,” laughed Raskolnikov.

“The time will be shorter,” Raskolnikov laughed.

“Why, is it the bourgeois disgrace you are afraid of? It may be that you are afraid of it without knowing it, because you are young! But anyway you shouldn’t be afraid of giving yourself up and confessing.”

“Why, are you afraid of the bourgeois disgrace? You may be afraid of it without knowing it, because you’re young! But anyway, you shouldn’t be afraid to turn yourself in and confess.”

“Ach, hang it!” Raskolnikov whispered with loathing and contempt, as though he did not want to speak aloud.

“Oh, damn it!” Raskolnikov whispered with disgust and contempt, as if he did not want to speak aloud.

He got up again as though he meant to go away, but sat down again in evident despair.

He stood up again as if he meant to leave, but sat back down, clearly in despair.

“Hang it, if you like! You’ve lost faith and you think that I am grossly flattering you; but how long has your life been? How much do you understand? You made up a theory and then were ashamed that it broke down and turned out to be not at all original! It turned out something base, that’s true, but you are not hopelessly base. By no means so base! At least you didn’t deceive yourself for long, you went straight to the furthest point at one bound. How do I regard you? I regard you as one of those men who would stand and smile at their torturer while he cuts their entrails out, if only they have found faith or God. Find it and you will live. You have long needed a change of air. Suffering, too, is a good thing. Suffer! Maybe Nikolay is right in wanting to suffer. I know you don’t believe in it—but don’t be over-wise; fling yourself straight into life, without deliberation; don’t be afraid—the flood will bear you to the bank and set you safe on your feet again. What bank? How can I tell? I only believe that you have long life before you. I know that you take all my words now for a set speech prepared beforehand, but maybe you will remember them after. They may be of use some time. That’s why I speak. It’s as well that you only killed the old woman. If you’d invented another theory you might perhaps have done something a thousand times more hideous. You ought to thank God, perhaps. How do you know? Perhaps God is saving you for something. But keep a good heart and have less fear! Are you afraid of the great expiation before you? No, it would be shameful to be afraid of it. Since you have taken such a step, you must harden your heart. There is justice in it. You must fulfil the demands of justice. I know that you don’t believe it, but indeed, life will bring you through. You will live it down in time. What you need now is fresh air, fresh air, fresh air!”

“Damn it, if you like! You’ve lost faith, and you think I’m flattering you shamelessly. But how long have you lived? How much do you understand? You came up with a theory. Then you were ashamed when it fell apart and proved not to be original at all! It turned out to be something vile, that’s true, but you’re not hopelessly vile. Not nearly so vile! At least you didn’t deceive yourself for long. You went straight to the furthest point in a single leap. What do I think of you? I think you’re the kind of man who would smile at his torturer as he cuts out his guts, if only he had found faith or God. Find faith or God, and you will live. You’ve needed a change of air for a long time. Suffering is a good thing too. Suffer! Maybe Nikolay is right to want to suffer. I know you don’t believe in it. But don’t be too clever. Throw yourself straight into life without stopping to think. Don’t be afraid. The flood will carry you to the bank and set you safely on your feet again. What bank? How should I know? I only believe that you have a long life ahead of you. I know you think everything I’m saying is a speech I prepared in advance. But maybe you’ll remember it later. It may be useful someday. That’s why I’m saying it. It’s just as well that you only killed the old woman. If you’d invented another theory, you might have done something a thousand times more horrible. Perhaps you should thank God. How do you know? Perhaps God is saving you for something. But take heart and be less afraid! Are you afraid of the great punishment you face? No, it would be shameful to fear it. Since you’ve taken such a step, you must harden your heart. There is justice in it. You must do what justice demands. I know you don’t believe it, but life really will see you through. In time, you will live it down. What you need now is fresh air, fresh air, fresh air!”

Raskolnikov positively started.

Raskolnikov actually flinched.

“But who are you? what prophet are you? From the height of what majestic calm do you proclaim these words of wisdom?”

“But who are you? What kind of prophet are you? From what lofty perch of calm do you declare these words of wisdom?”

“Who am I? I am a man with nothing to hope for, that’s all. A man perhaps of feeling and sympathy, maybe of some knowledge too, but my day is over. But you are a different matter, there is life waiting for you. Though, who knows? maybe your life, too, will pass off in smoke and come to nothing. Come, what does it matter, that you will pass into another class of men? It’s not comfort you regret, with your heart! What of it that perhaps no one will see you for so long? It’s not time, but yourself that will decide that. Be the sun and all will see you. The sun has before all to be the sun. Why are you smiling again? At my being such a Schiller? I bet you’re imagining that I am trying to get round you by flattery. Well, perhaps I am, he-he-he! Perhaps you’d better not believe my word, perhaps you’d better never believe it altogether—I’m made that way, I confess it. But let me add, you can judge for yourself, I think, how far I am a base sort of man and how far I am honest.”

“Who am I? I’m a man with nothing to hope for, that’s all. Perhaps I have some feeling and sympathy, maybe even some knowledge, but my day is over. You’re different. Life is waiting for you. Though, who knows? Maybe your life will go up in smoke and come to nothing too. Come on, what does it matter if you move into another class of men? With a heart like yours, it’s not comfort you’ll miss! And what if no one sees you for a long time? That depends on you, not on time. Be the sun, and everyone will see you. First of all, the sun has to be the sun. Why are you smiling again? Because I’m such a Schiller? I bet you think I’m trying to win you over with flattery. Well, perhaps I am, he-he-he! Perhaps you’d better not believe what I say. Perhaps you’d better never believe me at all. That’s how I’m made, I admit it. But let me add this: I think you can judge for yourself how much of me is base and how much is honest.”

“When do you mean to arrest me?”

“When do you plan to arrest me?”

“Well, I can let you walk about another day or two. Think it over, my dear fellow, and pray to God. It’s more in your interest, believe me.”

“Well, I can let you stay free for another day or two. Think it over, my friend, and pray to God. Believe me, it’s in your own interest.”

“And what if I run away?” asked Raskolnikov with a strange smile.

“What if I run away?” Raskolnikov asked with a strange smile.

“No, you won’t run away. A peasant would run away, a fashionable dissenter would run away, the flunkey of another man’s thought, for you’ve only to show him the end of your little finger and he’ll be ready to believe in anything for the rest of his life. But you’ve ceased to believe in your theory already, what will you run away with? And what would you do in hiding? It would be hateful and difficult for you, and what you need more than anything in life is a definite position, an atmosphere to suit you. And what sort of atmosphere would you have? If you ran away, you’d come back of yourself. You can’t get on without us. And if I put you in prison—say you’ve been there a month, or two, or three—remember my word, you’ll confess of yourself and perhaps to your own surprise. You won’t know an hour beforehand that you are coming with a confession. I am convinced that you will decide, ‘to take your suffering.’ You don’t believe my words now, but you’ll come to it of yourself. For suffering, Rodion Romanovitch, is a great thing. Never mind my having grown fat, I know all the same. Don’t laugh at it, there’s an idea in suffering, Nikolay is right. No, you won’t run away, Rodion Romanovitch.”

“No, you won’t run away. A peasant would run away. A fashionable dissenter would run away, someone who slavishly follows another man’s ideas. You only have to show him the tip of your little finger, and he’ll believe anything for life. But you’ve already stopped believing in your theory. What would you take with you? And what would you do in hiding? You’d hate it, and it would be difficult. More than anything in life, you need a definite position and an atmosphere that suits you. But what kind of atmosphere would you have in hiding? If you ran away, you’d come back on your own. You can’t get along without us. And if I put you in prison, say for a month, or two, or three, remember my words. You’ll confess on your own, and perhaps even surprise yourself. An hour before you come to confess, you won’t know you’re going to do it. I’m convinced you’ll decide ‘to accept your suffering.’ You don’t believe me now, but you’ll come to that decision yourself. Because suffering, Rodion Romanovitch, is a great thing. Never mind that I’ve grown fat. I still know. Don’t laugh at suffering. There’s an idea behind it, and Nikolay is right. No, you won’t run away, Rodion Romanovitch.”

Raskolnikov got up and took his cap. Porfiry Petrovitch also rose.

Raskolnikov stood up and picked up his cap. Porfiry Petrovitch also stood up.

“Are you going for a walk? The evening will be fine, if only we don’t have a storm. Though it would be a good thing to freshen the air.”

“Are you going for a walk? It should be a nice evening, as long as there isn’t a storm. Though a storm would freshen the air.”

He, too, took his cap.

He took his cap too.

“Porfiry Petrovitch, please don’t take up the notion that I have confessed to you to-day,” Raskolnikov pronounced with sullen insistence. “You’re a strange man and I have listened to you from simple curiosity. But I have admitted nothing, remember that!”

“Porfiry Petrovitch, please don’t get the idea that I confessed to you today,” Raskolnikov said with sullen insistence. “You’re a strange man, and I listened to you out of simple curiosity. But I haven’t admitted anything. Remember that!”

“Oh, I know that, I’ll remember. Look at him, he’s trembling! Don’t be uneasy, my dear fellow, have it your own way. Walk about a bit, you won’t be able to walk too far. If anything happens, I have one request to make of you,” he added, dropping his voice. “It’s an awkward one, but important. If anything were to happen (though indeed I don’t believe in it and think you quite incapable of it), yet in case you were taken during these forty or fifty hours with the notion of putting an end to the business in some other way, in some fantastic fashion—laying hands on yourself—(it’s an absurd proposition, but you must forgive me for it) do leave a brief but precise note, only two lines, and mention the stone. It will be more generous. Come, till we meet! Good thoughts and sound decisions to you!”

“Oh, I know that. I’ll remember. Look at him, he’s trembling! Don’t worry, my dear fellow. Have it your own way. Walk around a little. You won’t be able to go too far. If anything happens, I have one request for you,” he added, lowering his voice. “It’s an awkward request, but an important one. I really don’t believe anything will happen, and I think you’re quite incapable of it. But suppose that, in the next forty or fifty hours, you decide to end this business another way. Some fantastic way, by killing yourself. It’s an absurd suggestion, but you must forgive me for making it. If you do, please leave a brief but precise note, just two lines, and mention the stone. That would be more generous. Well, until we meet again! Good thoughts and sound decisions to you!”

Porfiry went out, stooping and avoiding looking at Raskolnikov. The latter went to the window and waited with irritable impatience till he calculated that Porfiry had reached the street and moved away. Then he too went hurriedly out of the room.

Porfiry went out, stooping and avoiding Raskolnikov’s gaze. Raskolnikov went to the window and waited with irritable impatience. When he judged that Porfiry had reached the street and moved away, he hurried out of the room too.