one point of view, the matter may be considered as
settled,’ said Ptitsin; and sitting down a little way from the
table he began to study a paper covered with pencil
writing.
Gania stood and frowned, he expected a family scene.
He never thought of apologizing to the prince, however.
‘If it’s all settled, Gania, then of course Mr. Ptitsin is
right,’ said Nina Alexandrovna. ‘Don’t frown. You need
not worry yourself, Gania; I shall ask you no questions.
You need not tell me anything you don’t like. I assure you
I have quite submitted to your will.’ She said all this,
knitting away the while as though perfectly calm and
composed.
Gania was surprised, but cautiously kept silence and
looked at his mother, hoping that she would express
herself more clearly. Nina Alexandrovna observed his
cautiousness and added, with a bitter smile:
‘You are still suspicious, I see, and do not believe me;
but you may be quite at your ease. There shall be no more
tears, nor questions—not from my side, at all events. All I
wish is that you may be happy, you know that. I have The Idiot
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submitted to my fate; but my heart will always be with
you, whether we remain united, or whether we part. Of
course I only answer for myself—you can hardly expect
your sister—‘
‘My sister again,’ cried Gania, looking at her with
contempt and almost hate. ‘Look here, mother, I have
already given you my word that I shall always respect you
fully and absolutely, and so shall everyone else in this
house, be it who it may, who shall cross this threshold.’
Gania was so much relieved that he gazed at his mother
almost affectionately.
‘I was not at all afraid for myself, Gania, as you know
well. It was not for my own sake that I have been so
anxious and worried all this time! They say it is all to be
settled to-day. What is to be settled?’
‘She has promised to tell me tonight at her own house
whether she consents or not,’ replied Gania.
‘We have been silent on this subject for three weeks,’
said his mother, ‘and it was better so; and now I will only
ask you one question. How can she give her consent and
make you a present of her portrait when you do not love
her? How can such a—such a—‘
‘Practised hand—eh?’ The Idiot
184 of 1149
‘I was not going to express myself so. But how could
you so blind her?’
Nina Alexandrovna’s question betrayed intense
annoyance. Gania waited a moment and then said,
without taking the trouble to conceal the irony of his
tone:
‘There you are, mother, you are always like that. You
begin by promising that there are to be no reproaches or
insinuations or questions, and here you are beginning
them at once. We had better drop the subject—we had,
really. I shall never leave you, mother; any other man
would cut and run from such a sister as this. See how she
is looking at me at this moment! Besides, how do you
know that I am blinding Nastasia Philipovna? As for Varia,
I don’t care—she can do just as she pleases. There, that’s
quite enough!’
Gania’s irritation increased with every word he uttered,
as he walked up and down the room. These conversations
always touched the family sores before long.
‘I have said already that the moment she comes in I go
out, and I shall keep my word,’ remarked Varia.
‘Out of obstinacy’ shouted Gania. ‘You haven’t
married, either, thanks to your obstinacy. Oh, you needn’t
frown at me, Varvara! You can go at once for all I care; I The Idiot
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am sick enough of your company. What, you are going to
leave us are you, too?’ he cried, turning to the prince,
who was rising from his chair.
Gania’s voice was full of the most uncontrolled and
uncontrollable irritation.
The prince turned at the door to say something, but
perceiving in Gania’s expression that there was but that
one drop wanting to make the cup overflow, he changed
his mind and left the room without a word. A few
minutes later he was aware from the noisy voices in the
drawing room, that the conversation had become more
quarrelsome than ever after his departure.
He crossed the salon and the entrance-hall, so as to pass
down the corridor into his own room. As he came near
the front door he heard someone outside vainly
endeavouring to ring the bell, which was evidently
broken, and only shook a little, without emitting any
sound.
The prince took down the chain and opened the door.
He started back in amazement—for there stood Nastasia
Philipovna. He knew her at once from her photograph.
Her eyes blazed with anger as she looked at him. She
quickly pushed by him into the hall, shouldering him out The Idiot
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of her way, and said, furiously, as she threw off her fur
cloak:
‘If you are too lazy to mend your bell, you should at
least wait in the hall to let people in when they rattle the
bell handle. There, now, you’ve dropped my fur cloak—
dummy!’
Sure enough the cloak was lying on the ground.
Nastasia had thrown it off her towards the prince,
expecting him to catch it, but the prince had missed it.
‘Now then—announce me, quick!’
The prince wanted to say something, but was so
confused and astonished that he could not. However, he
moved off towards the drawing-room with the cloak over
his arm.
‘Now then, where are you taking my cloak to? Ha, ha,
ha! Are you mad?’
The prince turned and came back, more confused than
ever. When she burst out laughing, he smiled, but his
tongue could not form a word as yet. At first, when he
had opened the door and saw her standing before him, he
had become as pale as death; but now the red blood had
rushed back to his cheeks in a torrent. The Idiot
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‘Why, what an idiot it is!’ cried Nastasia, stamping her
foot with irritation. ‘Go on, do! Whom are you going to
announce?’
‘Nastasia Philipovna,’ murmured the prince.
‘And how do you know that?’ she asked him, sharply.
‘I have never seen you before!’
‘Go on, announce me—what’s that noise?’
‘They are quarrelling,’ said the prince, and entered the
drawing- room, just as matters in there had almost reached
a crisis. Nina Alexandrovna had forgotten that she had
‘submitted to everything!’ She was defending Varia. Ptitsin
was taking her part, too. Not that Varia was afraid of
standing up for herself. She was by no means that sort of a
girl; but her brother was becoming ruder and more
intolerable every moment. Her usual practice in such cases
as the present was to say nothing, but stare at him, without
taking her eyes off his face for an instant. This manoeuvre,
as she well knew, could drive Gania distracted.
Just at this moment the door opened and the prince
entered, announcing:
‘Nastasia Philipovna!’ The Idiot
188 of 1149
IX
Silence immediately fell on the room; all looked at the
prince as though they neither understood, nor hoped to
understand. Gania was motionless with horror.
Nastasia’s arrival was a most unexpected and
overwhelming event to all parties. In the first place, she
had never been before. Up to now she had been so
haughty that she had never even asked Gania to introduce
her to his parents. Of late she had not so much as
mentioned them. Gania was partly glad of this; but still he
had put it to her debit in the account to be settled after
marriage.
He would have borne anything from her rather than
this visit. But one thing seemed to him quite clear-her
visit now, and the present of her portrait on this particular
day, pointed out plainly enough which way she intended
to make her decision!
The incredulous amazement with which all regarded
the prince did not last long, for Nastasia herself appeared at
the door and passed in, pushing by the prince again.
‘At last I’ve stormed the citadel! Why do you tie up
your bell?’ she said, merrily, as she pressed Gania’s hand, The Idiot
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the latter having rushed up to her as soon as she made her
appearance. ‘What are you looking so upset about?
Introduce me, please!’
The bewildered Gania introduced her first to Varia, and
both women, before shaking hands, exchanged looks of
strange import. Nastasia, however, smiled amiably; but
Varia did not try to look amiable, and kept her gloomy
expression. She did not even vouchsafe the usual
courteous smile of etiquette. Gania darted a terrible glance
of wrath at her for this, but Nina Alexandrovna, mended
matters a little when Gania introduced her at last. Hardly,
however, had the old lady begun about her ‘ highly
gratified feelings,’ and so on, when Nastasia left her, and
flounced into a chair by Gania’s side in the corner by the
window, and cried: ‘Where’s your study? and where are
the—the lodgers? You do take in lodgers, don’t you?’
Gania looked dreadfully put out, and tried to say
something in reply, but Nastasia interrupted him:
‘Why, where are you going to squeeze lodgers in here?
Don’t you use a study? Does this sort of thing pay?’ she
added, turning to Nina Alexandrovna.
‘Well, it is troublesome, rather,’ said the latter; ‘but I
suppose it will ‘pay’ pretty well. We have only just begun,
however—‘ The Idiot
190 of 1149
Again Nastasia Philipovna did not hear the sentence
out. She glanced at Gania, and cried, laughing, ‘What a
face! My goodness, what a face you have on at this
moment!’
Indeed, Gania did not look in the least like himself. His
bewilderment and his alarmed perplexity passed off,
however, and his lips now twitched with rage as he
continued to stare evilly at his laughing guest, while his
countenance became absolutely livid.
There was another witness, who, though standing at
the door motionless and bewildered himself, still managed
to remark Gania’s death-like pallor, and the dreadful
change that had come over his face. This witness was the
prince, who now advanced in alarm and muttered to
Gania:
‘Drink some water, and don’t look like that!’
It was clear that he came out with these words quite
spontaneously, on the spur of the moment. But his speech
was productive of much—for it appeared that all. Gania’s
rage now overflowed upon the prince. He seized him by
the shoulder and gazed with an intensity of loathing and
revenge at him, but said nothing—as though his feelings
were too strong to permit of words. The Idiot
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General agitation prevailed. Nina Alexandrovna gave a
little cry of anxiety; Ptitsin took a step forward in alarm;
Colia and Ferdishenko stood stock still at the door in
amazement;—only Varia remained coolly watching the
scene from under her eyelashes. She did not sit down, but
stood by her mother with folded hands. However, Gania
recollected himself almost immediately. He let go of the
prince and burst out laughing.
‘Why, are you a doctor, prince, or what?’ he asked, as
naturally as possible. ‘I declare you quite frightened me!
Nastasia Philipovna, let me introduce this interesting
character to you— though I have only known him myself
since the morning.’
Nastasia gazed at the prince in bewilderment. ‘Prince?
He a Prince? Why, I took him for the footman, just now,
and sent him in to announce me! Ha, ha, ha, isn’t that
good!’
‘Not bad that, not bad at all!’ put in Ferdishenko, ‘se
non e vero—‘
‘I rather think I pitched into you, too, didn’t I? Forgive
me—do! Who is he, did you say? What prince?
Muishkin?’ she added, addressing Gania.
‘He is a lodger of ours,’ explained the latter. The Idiot
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‘An idiot!’—the prince distinctly heard the word half
whispered from behind him. This was Ferdishenko’s
voluntary information for Nastasia’s benefit.
‘Tell me, why didn’t you put me right when I made
such a dreadful mistake just now?’ continued the latter,
examining the prince from head to foot without the
slightest ceremony. She awaited the answer as though
convinced that it would be so foolish that she must
inevitably fail to restrain her laughter over it.
‘I was astonished, seeing you so suddenly—’ murmured
the prince.
‘How did you know who I was? Where had you seen
me before? And why were you so struck dumb at the sight
of me? What was there so overwhelming about me?’
‘Oho! ho, ho, ho!’ cried Ferdishenko. ‘NOW then,
prince! My word, what things I would say if I had such a
chance as that! My goodness, prince—go on!’
‘So should I, in your place, I’ve no doubt!’ laughed the
prince to Ferdishenko; then continued, addressing
Nastasia: ‘Your portrait struck me very forcibly this
morning; then I was talking about you to the Epanchins;
and then, in the train, before I reached Petersburg, Parfen
Rogojin told me a good deal about you; and at the very The Idiot
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moment that I opened the door to you I happened to be
thinking of you, when—there you stood before me!’
‘And how did you recognize me?’
‘From the portrait!’
‘What else?’
‘I seemed to imagine you exactly as you are—I seemed
to have seen you somewhere.’
‘Where—where?’
‘I seem to have seen your eyes somewhere; but it
cannot be! I have not seen you—I never was here before.
I may have dreamed of you, I don’t know.’
The prince said all this with manifest effort—in broken
sentences, and with many drawings of breath. He was
evidently much agitated. Nastasia Philipovna looked at
him inquisitively, but did not laugh.
‘Bravo, prince!’ cried Ferdishenko, delighted.
At this moment a loud voice from behind the group
which hedged in the prince and Nastasia Philipovna,
divided the crowd, as it were, and before them stood the
head of the family, General Ivolgin. He was dressed in
evening clothes; his moustache was dyed.
This apparition was too much for Gania. Vain and
ambitious almost to morbidness, he had had much to put
