At last he gave the door a final shove, entered, approached
the prince, took his hand and seated himself and the
owner of the room on two chairs side by side.
‘Ferdishenko,’ he said, gazing intently and inquiringly
into the prince’s eyes.
‘Very well, what next?’ said the latter, almost laughing
in his face.
‘A lodger here,’ continued the other, staring as before. The Idiot
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‘Do you wish to make acquaintance?’ asked the prince.
‘Ah!’ said the visitor, passing his fingers through his hair
and sighing. He then looked over to the other side of the
room and around it. ‘Got any money?’ he asked, suddenly.
‘Not much.’
‘How much?’
‘Twenty-five roubles.’
‘Let’s see it.’
The prince took his banknote out and showed it to
Ferdishenko. The latter unfolded it and looked at it; then
he turned it round and examined the other side; then he
held it up to the light.
‘How strange that it should have browned so,’ he said,
reflectively. ‘These twenty-five rouble notes brown in a
most extraordinary way, while other notes often grow
paler. Take it.’
The prince took his note. Ferdishenko rose.
‘I came here to warn you,’ he said. ‘In the first place,
don’t lend me any money, for I shall certainly ask you to.’
‘Very well.’
‘Shall you pay here?’
‘Yes, I intend to.’
‘Oh! I DON’T intend to. Thanks. I live here, next
door to you; you noticed a room, did you? Don’t come to The Idiot
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me very often; I shall see you here quite often enough.
Have you seen the general?’
‘No.’
‘Nor heard him?’
‘No; of course not.’
‘Well, you’ll both hear and see him soon; he even tries
to borrow money from me. Avis au lecteur. Good-bye; do
you think a man can possibly live with a name like
Ferdishenko?’
‘Why not?’
‘Good-bye.’
And so he departed. The prince found out afterwards
that this gentleman made it his business to amaze people
with his originality and wit, but that it did not as a rule
‘come off.’ He even produced a bad impression on some
people, which grieved him sorely; but he did not change
his ways for all that.
As he went out of the prince’s room, he collided with
yet another visitor coming in. Ferdishenko took the
opportunity of making several warning gestures to the
prince from behind the new arrival’s back, and left the
room in conscious pride.
This next arrival was a tall red-faced man of about fifty-
five, with greyish hair and whiskers, and large eyes which The Idiot
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stood out of their sockets. His appearance would have
been distinguished had it not been that he gave the idea of
being rather dirty. He was dressed in an old coat, and he
smelled of vodka when he came near. His walk was
effective, and he clearly did his best to appear dignified,
and to impress people by his manner.
This gentleman now approached the prince slowly, and
with a most courteous smile; silently took his hand and
held it in his own, as he examined the prince’s features as
though searching for familiar traits therein.
‘‘Tis he, ‘tis he!’ he said at last, quietly, but with much
solemnity. ‘As though he were alive once more. I heard
the familiar name-the dear familiar name—and, oh. I how
it reminded me of the irrevocable past—Prince Muishkin,
I believe ?’
‘Exactly so.’
‘General Ivolgin—retired and unfortunate. May I ask
your Christian and generic names?’
‘Lef Nicolaievitch.’
‘So, so—the son of my old, I may say my childhood’s
friend, Nicolai Petrovitch.’
‘My father’s name was Nicolai Lvovitch.’
‘Lvovitch,’ repeated the general without the slightest
haste, and with perfect confidence, just as though he had The Idiot
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not committed himself the least in the world, but merely
made a little slip of the tongue. He sat down, and taking
the prince’s hand, drew him to a seat next to himself.
‘I carried you in my arms as a baby,’ he observed.
‘Really?’ asked the prince. ‘Why, it’s twenty years since
my father died.’
‘Yes, yes—twenty years and three months. We were
educated together; I went straight into the army, and he—
‘
‘My father went into the army, too. He was a sub-
lieutenant in the Vasiliefsky regiment.’
‘No, sir—in the Bielomirsky; he changed into the latter
shortly before his death. I was at his bedside when he died,
and gave him my blessing for eternity. Your mother—’
The general paused, as though overcome with emotion.
‘She died a few months later, from a cold,’ said the
prince.
‘Oh, not cold—believe an old man—not from a cold,
but from grief for her prince. Oh—your mother, your
mother! heigh-ho! Youth—youth! Your father and I—old
friends as we were—nearly murdered each other for her
sake.’
The prince began to be a little incredulous. The Idiot
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‘I was passionately in love with her when she was
engaged— engaged to my friend. The prince noticed the
fact and was furious. He came and woke me at seven
o’clock one morning. I rise and dress in amazement;
silence on both sides. I understand it all. He takes a couple
of pistols out of his pocket—across a handkerchief—
without witnesses. Why invite witnesses when both of us
would be walking in eternity in a couple of minutes? The
pistols are loaded; we stretch the handkerchief and stand
opposite one another. We aim the pistols at each other’s
hearts. Suddenly tears start to our eyes, our hands shake;
we weep, we embrace—the battle is one of self-sacrifice
now! The prince shouts, ‘She is yours;’ I cry, ‘She is
yours—’ in a word, in a word—You’ve come to live with
us, hey?’
‘Yes—yes—for a while, I think,’ stammered the prince.
‘Prince, mother begs you to come to her,’ said Colia,
appearing at the door.
The prince rose to go, but the general once more laid
his hand in a friendly manner on his shoulder, and dragged
him down on to the sofa.
‘As the true friend of your father, I wish to say a few
words to you,’ he began. ‘I have suffered—there was a
catastrophe. I suffered without a trial; I had no trial. Nina The Idiot
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Alexandrovna my wife, is an excellent woman, so is my
daughter Varvara. We have to let lodgings because we are
poor—a dreadful, unheard-of come- down for us—for
me, who should have been a governor-general; but we are
very glad to have YOU, at all events. Meanwhile there is a
tragedy in the house.’
The prince looked inquiringly at the other.
‘Yes, a marriage is being arranged—a marriage between
a questionable woman and a young fellow who might be a
flunkey. They wish to bring this woman into the house
where my wife and daughter reside, but while I live and
breathe she shall never enter my doors. I shall lie at the
threshold, and she shall trample me underfoot if she does. I
hardly talk to Gania now, and avoid him as much as I can.
I warn you of this beforehand, but you cannot fail to
observe it. But you are the son of my old friend, and I
hope—‘
‘Prince, be so kind as to come to me for a moment in
the drawing- room,’ said Nina Alexandrovna herself,
appearing at the door.
‘Imagine, my dear,’ cried the general, ‘it turns out that
I have nursed the prince on my knee in the old days.’ His
wife looked searchingly at him, and glanced at the prince,
but said nothing. The prince rose and followed her; but The Idiot
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hardly had they reached the drawing-room, and Nina
Alexandrovna had begun to talk hurriedly, when in came
the general. She immediately relapsed into silence. The
master of the house may have observed this, but at all
events he did not take any notice of it; he was in high
good humour.
‘A son of my old friend, dear,’ he cried; ‘surely you
must remember Prince Nicolai Lvovitch? You saw him
at—at Tver.’
‘I don’t remember any Nicolai Lvovitch, Was that your
father?’ she inquired of the prince.
‘Yes, but he died at Elizabethgrad, not at Tver,’ said the
prince, rather timidly. ‘So Pavlicheff told me.’
‘No, Tver,’ insisted the general; ‘he removed just
before his death. You were very small and cannot
remember; and Pavlicheff, though an excellent fellow,
may have made a mistake.’
‘You knew Pavlicheff then?’
‘Oh, yes—a wonderful fellow; but I was present myself.
I gave him my blessing.’
‘My father was just about to be tried when he died,’
said the prince, ‘although I never knew of what he was
accused. He died in hospital.’ The Idiot
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‘Oh! it was the Kolpakoff business, and of course he
would have been acquitted.’
‘Yes? Do you know that for a fact?’ asked the prince,
whose curiosity was aroused by the general’s words.
‘I should think so indeed!’ cried the latter. ‘The court-
martial came to no decision. It was a mysterious, an
impossible business, one might say! Captain Larionoff,
commander of the company, had died; his command was
handed over to the prince for the moment. Very well.
This soldier, Kolpakoff, stole some leather from one of his
comrades, intending to sell it, and spent the money on
drink. Well! The prince—you understand that what
follows took place in the presence of the sergeant-major,
and a corporal—the prince rated Kolpakoff soundly, and
threatened to have him flogged. Well, Kolpakoff went
back to the barracks, lay down on a camp bedstead, and in
a quarter of an hour was dead: you quite understand? It
was, as I said, a strange, almost impossible, affair. In due
course Kolpakoff was buried; the prince wrote his report,
the deceased’s name was removed from the roll. All as it
should be, is it not? But exactly three months later at the
inspection of the brigade, the man Kolpakoff was found in
the third company of the second battalion of infantry,
Novozemlianski division, just as if nothing had happened!’ The Idiot
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‘What?’ said the prince, much astonished.
‘It did not occur—it’s a mistake!’ said Nina
Alexandrovna quickly, looking, at the prince rather
anxiously. ‘Mon mari se trompe,’ she added, speaking in
French.
‘My dear, ‘se trompe’ is easily said. Do you remember
any case at all like it? Everybody was at their wits’ end. I
should be the first to say ‘qu’on se trompe,’ but
unfortunately I was an eye- witness, and was also on the
commission of inquiry. Everything proved that it was
really he, the very same soldier Kolpakoff who had been
given the usual military funeral to the sound of the drum.
It is of course a most curious case—nearly an impossible
one. I recognize that ... but—‘
‘Father, your dinner is ready,’ said Varvara at this point,
putting her head in at the door.
‘Very glad, I’m particularly hungry. Yes, yes, a strange
coincidence—almost a psychological—‘
‘Your soup’ll be cold; do come.’
‘Coming, coming ‘ said the general. ‘Son of my old
friend—’ he was heard muttering as he went down the
passage.
‘You will have to excuse very much in my husband, if
you stay with us,’ said Nina Alexandrovna; ‘but he will The Idiot
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not disturb you often. He dines alone. Everyone has his
little peculiarities, you know, and some people perhaps
have more than those who are most pointed at and
laughed at. One thing I must beg of you-if my husband
applies to you for payment for board and lodging, tell him
that you have already paid me. Of course anything paid by
you to the general would be as fully settled as if paid to
me, so far as you are concerned; but I wish it to be so, if
you please, for convenience’ sake. What is it, Varia?’
Varia had quietly entered the room, and was holding
out the portrait of Nastasia Philipovna to her mother.
Nina Alexandrovna started, and examined the
photograph intently, gazing at it long and sadly. At last she
looked up inquiringly at Varia.
‘It’s a present from herself to him,’ said Varia; ‘the
question is to be finally decided this evening.’
‘This evening!’ repeated her mother in a tone of
despair, but softly, as though to herself. ‘Then it’s all
settled, of course, and there’s no hope left to us. She has
anticipated her answer by the present of her portrait. Did
he show it you himself?’ she added, in some surprise.
‘You know we have hardly spoken to each other for a
whole month. Ptitsin told me all about it; and the photo
was lying under the table, and I picked it up.’ The Idiot
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‘Prince,’ asked Nina Alexandrovna, ‘I wanted to
inquire whether you have known my son long? I think he
said that you had only arrived today from somewhere.’
The prince gave a short narrative of what we have
heard before, leaving out the greater part. The two ladies
listened intently.
‘I did not ask about Gania out of curiosity,’ said the
elder, at last. ‘I wish to know how much you know about
him, because he said just now that we need not stand on
ceremony with you. What, exactly, does that mean?’
At this moment Gania and Ptitsin entered the room
together, and Nina Alexandrovna immediately became
silent again. The prince remained seated next to her, but
Varia moved to the other end of the room; the portrait of
Nastasia Philipovna remained lying as before on the work-
table. Gania observed it there, and with a frown of
annoyance snatched it up and threw it across to his
writing-table, which stood at the other end of the room.
‘Is it today, Gania?’ asked Nina Alexandrovna, at last.
‘Is what today?’ cried the former. Then suddenly
recollecting himself, he turned sharply on the prince. ‘Oh,’
he growled, ‘I see, you are here, that explains it! Is it a
disease, or what, that you can’t hold your tongue? Look
here, understand once for all, prince—‘ The Idiot
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‘I am to blame in this, Gania—no one else,’ said Ptitsin.
Gania glanced inquiringly at the speaker.
‘It’s better so, you know, Gania—especially as, from
