At any rate, when many hours later the door opened and people entered, they found the murderer completely unconscious and in a fever. The prince sat motionless beside him on the cushions and quietly, each time the sick man exploded into shouting or delirium, hurried to pass his trembling hand over his hair and cheeks, as though caressing and calming him. But by now he understood none of the questions that were asked him, and did not recognize the people who had entered the room and surrounded him. And if Schneider himself had appeared now from Switzerland to take a look at his former pupil and patient, then even he, remembering the condition in which the prince had sometimes been during the first year of his treatment in Switzerland, would now have waved his hand and said, as then: ‘An idiot!’
12
Conclusion
The schoolmaster’s widow, having gone post-haste to Pavlovsk, went straight to see Darya Alexeyevna, who was still upset from the previous day, and, having told her everything she knew, gave her no end of a fright. Both ladies at once decided to enter into contact with Lebedev, who was also agitated, in his capacity of the tenant’s friend landlord of his lodgings. Vera Lebedeva told him everything she knew. On Lebedev’s advice, all three decided to set off for St Petersburg for the most speedy prevention of ‘what may very well happen’. Thus it transpired that on the following morning, at about eleven o’ clock, Rogozhin’s apartment was opened in the presence of the police, Lebedev, the ladies and Rogozhin’s brother, Semyon Semyonovich Rogozhin, who lodged in the wing. The success of the matter was expedited above all by the statement of the yardkeeper, who testified that he had seen Parfyon Semyonovich and a guest the night before, entering by the front porch and as if by stealth. After this statement, and when no one answered the doorbell, there was no hesitation in breaking down the door.
For two months Rogozhin endured an inflammation of the brain, and when he recovered — an investigation and a trial. He gave straight, precise and completely satisfactory statements on all matters, as a result of which the prince was eliminated from the investigation. Rogozhin was taciturn during his trial. He did not contradict his skilful and eloquent lawyer, who argued clearly and logically that the crime that had been committed was the result of an inflammation of the brain that had begun long before the crime in consequence of the accused man’s distressing experiences. But he did not add anything on his own behalf in confirmation of this view and, as he had done previously, clearly and precisely, confirmed and recalled each smallest detail of the incident that had occurred. He was condemned, with remission for extenuating circumstances, to fifteen years of penal labour in Siberia, and heard out his sentence grimly, silently and ‘thoughtfully’. His entire enormous fortune, apart from a certain comparatively rather small portion, spent on the initial carousing, went to his brother, Semyon Semyonovich, much to the latter’s great satisfaction. Rogozhin’s old mother is still alive, and sometimes seems to remember her favourite son Parfyon, but not clearly; God has saved her mind and heart from an awareness of the horror that visited her melancholy house.
Lebedev, Keller, Ganya, Ptitsyn and many other characters of our story live as before, have changed little, and there is almost nothing for us to tell about them. Ippolit passed away in dreadful agitation and somewhat earlier than he had expected, some two weeks after Nastasya Filippovna’s death. Kolya was deeply shaken by what had happened; he has d
rawn close to his mother once and for all. Nina Alexandrovna is afraid for him, considering him too reflective for his years; it may be that he will become a good man. Incidentally, partly as a result of his efforts, the future destiny of the prince was also settled; a long time before, out of all the persons whose acquaintance he had recently made, Kolya had chosen Yevgeny Pavlovich Radomsky; he was the first to convey to him all the details of the event that had taken place to which he was privy, and the prince’s present situation. He was not mistaken: Yevgeny Pavlovich took the warmest interest in the fate of the unfortunate ‘idiot’, and in consequence of his efforts and care the prince ended up back abroad, in Schneider’s clinic in Switzerland. Yevgeny Pavlovich, having himself gone abroad — with the intention of staying in Europe for a very long time and openly calling himself ‘a completely superfluous man in Russia’ - quite often, at least once every few months, visits his sick friend at Schneider’s; but increasingly Schneider frowns and shakes his head; he hints at a complete derangement of the mental organs; he does not yet speak in the affirmative of incurability, but permits himself the most melancholy allusions. Yevgeny Pavlovich takes this very much to heart, and he does have a heart, something he has already proved by receiving letters from Kolya and even sometimes replying to those letters. But in addition to this, yet another strange feature of his character has announced itself; and as it is a good feature, we shall hasten to delineate it: after each of his visits to Schneider’s clinic Yevgeny Pavlovich sends, in addition to the one to Kolya, another letter to a certain person in St Petersburg, with a most detailed and sympathetic account of the state of the prince’s illness at the present moment. In addition to the most respectful expression of devotion, in these letters there sometimes begin to appear (with ever-increasing frequency) some open statements of views, conceptions, emotions - in a word, there begins to manifest itself something resembling friendly and intimate feelings. This person, who is in correspondence (though a rather infrequent one) with Yevgeny Pavlovich and who has earned so much of his attention and respect, is Vera Lebedeva. We have been quite unable to ascertain exactly how such relations could have been established between them; they were established, of course, in connection with the whole episode with the prince, when Vera Lebedeva was so afflicted with sorrow that she fell ill, but as to the details of how their acquaintance and friendship came about - we do not know. We have mentioned these letters primarily because some of them contained information about the Yepanchin family and, especially, about Aglaya Ivanovna Yepanchina. In one rather incoherent letter from Paris, Yevgeny Pavlovich imparted the information that after a brief and extraordinary attachment to a certain émigré, a Polish count, she married him, against the wishes of her parents, who if they did in the end grant their consent, then only because the matter was threatening to become a scandal of exceptional proportions. Then, after a silence that lasted almost half a year, Yevgeny Pavlovich informed his correspondent, again in a long a
nd detailed letter, that during his latest visit to Professor Schneider in Switzerland he had there run into all of the Yepanchins (with the exception, naturally, of Ivan Fyodorovich, who remains in St Petersburg on business) and Prince Shch. The meeting was a strange one; they all greeted Yevgeny Pavlovich with a kind of rapture; for some reason Adelaida and Alexandra even considered themselves grateful to him for his ‘angelic care for the unhappy prince’. Lizaveta Prokofyevna, beholding the prince in his sick and degraded condition, began to weep with all her heart. Evidently all was now forgiven him. Meanwhile, Prince Shch. spoke a few well-turned and sensible truths. It seemed to Yevgeny Pavlovich that he and Adelaida were not yet friends, but that the future held out the inevitable prospect of the submission of the passionate Adelaida to the intelligence and experience of Prince Shch. In addition, the lessons endured by the family also had a fearful effect on her, especially the latest incident with Aglaya and the émigré count. Everything that had set the family a-tremble about surrendering Aglaya to this count had been realized within the space of half a year, with the addition of surprises such as they had not even dreamed of. The count turned out not to be a count at all, and if he really was an émigré, then one with an obscure and ambiguous past. He had captivated Aglaya with the extraordinary nobility of a soul tormented by suffering for his fatherland, and captivated her to such a degree that even before she married him she became a member of some foreign committee for the restoration of Poland and, moreover, ended up in the Catholic confessional of some famous
pater,
who had taken possession of her mind to the point of frenzy. The count’s colossal fortune, of which he had presented Lizaveta Prokofyevna and Prince Shch. with almost incontrovertible proof, turned out to be completely imaginary. Nor was that all, for some six months after the nuptials the count and his friend, the famous confessor, succeeded in plunging Aglaya into an all-out quarrel with her family, so that now they had not seen her for several months ... In a word, there would have been much to tell, but Lizaveta Prokofyevna, her daughters and even Prince Shch. were so shaken by all this ‘terror’ that they were afraid even to mention some things in conversation with Yevgeny Pavlovich, though they knew that he knew very well, and did not need them to tell him, the story of Aglaya Ivanovna’s latest enthusiasms. Poor Lizaveta Prokofyevna would have liked to have gone to Russia and, according to Yevgeny Pavlovich’s testimony, she criticized everything abroad bitterly and with prejudice: ‘They don’t know how to bake bread properly anywhere, and in winter they freeze like mice in a cellar,’ she said. ‘At least here I’ve had a good Russian cry over this poor fellow,’ she added, pointing in agitation at the prince, who had not recognized her at all. ‘Enough of being carried away, it’s time to serve reason. And all this, all this abroad, all this Europe of yours, it’s all just a fantasy, and all of us, while we’re abroad, are just a fantasy ... mark my words, you’ll see for yourself!’ she concluded, almost angrily, as she parted from Yevgeny Pavlovich.
Notes
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
1
.
Eidkuhnen:
Prussian railway station on the border of Prussia and Russia.
2
no foreign bags of Napoléons d‘or and Friedrichs d’or, let alone Dutch arapchiki:
Gold coins: the Napoleon d’or was worth twenty French francs. The Friedrich d’or was a Prussian coin, worth five silver thalers. The
arapchik
was one of the varieties of Russian gold coin, worth three roubles, also called the ‘Dutch tchervonetz’, because of its resemblance to the ducats of the old Dutch States.
3
As for General Yepanchin, sir, we know him for the simple reason that he’s well known:
According to the ‘Universal Address Directory of St Petersburg, 1867 — 68’ there were in fact four military men with the name Yepanchin in the city at this time.
4
the hereditary distinguished burgher:
A title given to merchants and other persons of non-aristocratic rank for meritorious deeds, and passed on by heredity.
5
the Bolshoi or the French Theatre:
The Bolshoi theatre was situated on Teatralnaya Ploshchad, and showed performances of opera, ballet and theatre by both Russian and foreign companies. The French Theatre was opened on 8 November 1833, and in the words of one contemporary observer soon became ‘The rendezvous of the
grand monde’.
6
Voznesensky Prospect:
Dostoyevsky lived there from the spring of 1847 until April 1849, and also for a short time in 1867.
CHAPTER TWO
1
just off Liteinaya, towards the Church of the Transfiguration:
The church is situated on a square adjoining Panteleimonovskaya Street. It was rebuilt in 1827 — 9 by V. P. Stasov, after it burned down in 1825.
2
the farming of revenues: Otkup,
the sale to a private individual of the right to charge revenues on a state monopoly. Revenues on alcohol were particularly involved.
3
‘devoted without flattery’:
A reference to the motto on the coat of arms of A. A. Arakcheyev (1769 — 1834), given him by Tsar Paul I. See Pushkin’s poem ‘Oppressor Of All Russia’ (1817 — 20).
4
and the middle one was an excellent painter ... and even then by accident:
It should perhaps be noted that Adelaida’s name derives from Greek
adilos,
meaning ‘indistinct, obscure’.
5
we don’t have capital punishment:
The death penalty was abolished in Russia by Empress Elizabeth in 1753 — 4, but was reintroduced by Catherine the Great for certain crimes, mainly of a political nature. Dostoyevsky was himself sentenced to be shot in 1849, but reprieved at the last moment, and sent into exile in Siberia. The 1860s saw several executions in Russia. Dostoyevsky’s insertion here of the words ‘we don’t have capital punishment’ is thought to be linked to the author’s desire to deflect the attention of the Russian censor from the passages in the novel concerning the death penalty.
6
many people have said the same thing:
Dostoyevsky is alluding above all to Victor Hugo’s short story
Le Dernier Jour d’un condamne
(‘The Final Day of a Condemned Man‘, 1829), which he knew in the French original.
7
‘Such suffering and terror were what Christ spoke of’: see
Matthew 26:38 — 9, also 37, 42 and 44.
8
a small Napoleonic beard:
The Napoleon in question is Napoleon III (1808 — 73), Emperor of France from 1852.
CHAPTER THREE
1
‘Hard work conquers all’:
The words engraved by order of Tsar Nicholas I on the medal struck in 1838 in honour of Count P. A. Klei
nmikhel (1793 — 1869), who directed the rebuilding of the Winter Palace.
2
commis:
A commercial traveller.
CHAPTER FOUR
1
Otradnoye:
The name means ‘delight’.
2
verst:
1 verst= = 1.06 kilometres.
CHAPTER FIVE
1
the Horde:
The Golden Horde, a state formed in the thirteenth century by the grandson of Genghis Khan, consisting of most of what is now European Russia and western Siberia. After the conquest of the Russian principalities by the Mongols, Russian princes had to travel to Sarai on the Lower Volga to trade and negotiate with the Horde.