thousand times, but I’m always so sorry for him. Don’t
stand on ceremony, give him some trifle, and let that end
it.’
‘Come along, Colia, I want to see your father. I have
an idea,’ said the prince. The Idiot
229 of 1149
XII
Colia took the prince to a public-house in the
Litaynaya, not far off. In one of the side rooms there sat at
a table—looking like one of the regular guests of the
establishment—Ardalion Alexandrovitch, with a bottle
before him, and a newspaper on his knee. He was waiting
for the prince, and no sooner did the latter appear than he
began a long harangue about something or other; but so
far gone was he that the prince could hardly understand a
word.
‘I have not got a ten-rouble note,’ said the prince; ‘but
here is a twenty-five. Change it and give me back the
fifteen, or I shall be left without a farthing myself.’
‘Oh, of course, of course; and you quite understand
that I—‘
‘Yes; and I have another request to make, general.
Have you ever been at Nastasia Philipovna’s?’
‘I? I? Do you mean me? Often, my friend, often! I only
pretended I had not in order to avoid a painful subject.
You saw today, you were a witness, that I did all that a
kind, an indulgent father could do. Now a father of
altogether another type shall step into the scene. You shall The Idiot
230 of 1149
see; the old soldier shall lay bare this intrigue, or a
shameless woman will force her way into a respectable and
noble family.’
‘Yes, quite so. I wished to ask you whether you could
show me the way to Nastasia Philipovna’s tonight. I must
go; I have business with her; I was not invited but I was
introduced. Anyhow I am ready to trespass the laws of
propriety if only I can get in somehow or other.’
‘My dear young friend, you have hit on my very idea.
It was not for this rubbish I asked you to come over here’
(he pocketed the money, however, at this point), ‘it was
to invite your alliance in the campaign against Nastasia
Philipovna tonight. How well it sounds, ‘General Ivolgin
and Prince Muishkin.’ That’ll fetch her, I think, eh?
Capital! We’ll go at nine; there’s time yet.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘Oh, a long way off, near the Great Theatre, just in the
square there—It won’t be a large party.’
The general sat on and on. He had ordered a fresh
bottle when the prince arrived; this took him an hour to
drink, and then he had another, and another, during the
consumption of which he told pretty nearly the whole
story of his life. The prince was in despair. He felt that
though he had but applied to this miserable old drunkard The Idiot
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because he saw no other way of getting to Nastasia
Philipovna’s, yet he had been very wrong to put the
slightest confidence in such a man.
At last he rose and declared that he would wait no
longer. The general rose too, drank the last drops that he
could squeeze out of the bottle, and staggered into the
street.
Muishkin began to despair. He could not imagine how
he had been so foolish as to trust this man. He only
wanted one thing, and that was to get to Nastasia
Philipovna’s, even at the cost of a certain amount of
impropriety. But now the scandal threatened to be more
than he had bargained for. By this time Ardalion
Alexandrovitch was quite intoxicated, and he kept his
companion listening while he discoursed eloquently and
pathetically on subjects of all kinds, interspersed with
torrents of recrimination against the members of his
family. He insisted that all his troubles were caused by
their bad conduct, and time alone would put an end to
them.
At last they reached the Litaynaya. The thaw increased
steadily, a warm, unhealthy wind blew through the streets,
vehicles splashed through the mud, and the iron shoes of
horses and mules rang on the paving stones. Crowds of The Idiot
232 of 1149
melancholy people plodded wearily along the footpaths,
with here and there a drunken man among them.
‘Do you see those brightly-lighted windows?’ said the
general. ‘Many of my old comrades-in-arms live about
here, and I, who served longer, and suffered more than
any of them, am walking on foot to the house of a woman
of rather questionable reputation! A man, look you, who
has thirteen bullets on his breast! ... You don’t believe it?
Well, I can assure you it was entirely on my account that
Pirogoff telegraphed to Paris, and left Sebastopol at the
greatest risk during the siege. Nelaton, the Tuileries
surgeon, demanded a safe conduct, in the name of science,
into the besieged city in order to attend my wounds. The
government knows all about it. ‘That’s the Ivolgin with
thirteen bullets in him!’ That’s how they speak of me....
Do you see that house, prince? One of my old friends lives
on the first floor, with his large family. In this and five
other houses, three overlooking Nevsky, two in the
Morskaya, are all that remain of my personal friends. Nina
Alexandrovna gave them up long ago, but I keep in touch
with them still... I may say I find refreshment in this little
coterie, in thus meeting my old acquaintances and
subordinates, who worship me still, in spite of all. General
Sokolovitch (by the way, I have not called on him lately, The Idiot
233 of 1149
or seen Anna Fedorovna)... You know, my dear prince,
when a person does not receive company himself, he gives
up going to other people’s houses involuntarily. And yet
... well ... you look as if you didn’t believe me.... Well
now, why should I not present the son of my old friend
and companion to this delightful family—General Ivolgin
and Prince Muishkin? You will see a lovely girl—what am
I saying—a lovely girl? No, indeed, two, three!
Ornaments of this city and of society: beauty, education,
culture—the woman question—poetry—everything!
Added to which is the fact that each one will have a dot of
at least eighty thousand roubles. No bad thing, eh? ... In a
word I absolutely must introduce you to them: it is a duty,
an obligation. General Ivolgin and Prince Muishkin.
Tableau!’
‘At once? Now? You must have forgotten ... ‘ began
the prince.
‘No, I have forgotten nothing. Come! This is the
house—up this magnificent staircase. I am surprised not to
see the porter, but .... it is a holiday ... and the man has
gone off ... Drunken fool! Why have they not got rid of
him? Sokolovitch owes all the happiness he has had in the
service and in his private life to me, and me alone, but ...
here we are.’ The Idiot
234 of 1149
The prince followed quietly, making no further
objection for fear of irritating the old man. At the same
time he fervently hoped that General Sokolovitch and his
family would fade away like a mirage in the desert, so that
the visitors could escape, by merely returning downstairs.
But to his horror he saw that General Ivolgin was quite
familiar with the house, and really seemed to have friends
there. At every step he named some topographical or
biographical detail that left nothing to be desired on the
score of accuracy. When they arrived at last, on the first
floor, and the general turned to ring the bell to the right,
the prince decided to run away, but a curious incident
stopped him momentarily.
‘You have made a mistake, general,’ said he. ‘ The
name on the door is Koulakoff, and you were going to see
General Sokolovitch.’
‘Koulakoff ... Koulakoff means nothing. This is
Sokolovitch’s flat, and I am ringing at his door.... What do
I care for Koulakoff? ... Here comes someone to open.’
In fact, the door opened directly, and the footman in
formed the visitors that the family were all away.
‘What a pity! What a pity! It’s just my luck!’ repeated
Ardalion Alexandrovitch over and over again, in regretful
tones. ‘ When your master and mistress return, my man, The Idiot
235 of 1149
tell them that General Ivolgin and Prince Muishkin
desired to present themselves, and that they were
extremely sorry, excessively grieved ...’
Just then another person belonging to the household
was seen at the back of the hall. It was a woman of some
forty years, dressed in sombre colours, probably a
housekeeper or a governess. Hearing the names she came
forward with a look of suspicion on her face.
‘Marie Alexandrovna is not at home,’ said she, staring
hard at the general. ‘She has gone to her mother’s, with
Alexandra Michailovna.’
‘Alexandra Michailovna out, too! How disappointing!
Would you believe it, I am always so unfortunate! May I
most respectfully ask you to present my compliments to
Alexandra Michailovna, and remind her ... tell her, that
with my whole heart I wish for her what she wished for
herself on Thursday evening, while she was listening to
Chopin’s Ballade. She will remember. I wish it with all
sincerity. General Ivolgin and Prince Muishkin!’
The woman’s face changed; she lost her suspicious
expression.
‘I will not fail to deliver your message,’ she replied, and
bowed them out. The Idiot
236 of 1149
As they went downstairs the general regretted
repeatedly that he had failed to introduce the prince to his
friends.
‘You know I am a bit of a poet,’ said he. ‘Have you
noticed it? The poetic soul, you know.’ Then he added
suddenly—‘But after all ... after all I believe we made a
mistake this time! I remember that the Sokolovitch’s live
in another house, and what is more, they are just now in
Moscow. Yes, I certainly was at fault. However, it is of no
consequence.’
‘Just tell me,’ said the prince in reply, ‘may I count still
on your assistance? Or shall I go on alone to see Nastasia
Philipovna?’
‘Count on my assistance? Go alone? How can you ask
me that question, when it is a matter on which the fate of
my family so largely depends? You don’t know Ivolgin,
my friend. To trust Ivolgin is to trust a rock; that’s how
the first squadron I commanded spoke of me. ‘Depend
upon Ivolgin,’ said they all, ‘he is as steady as a rock.’ But,
excuse me, I must just call at a house on our way, a house
where I have found consolation and help in all my trials
for years.’
‘You are going home?’ The Idiot
237 of 1149
‘No ... I wish ... to visit Madame Terentieff, the widow
of Captain Terentieff, my old subordinate and friend. She
helps me to keep up my courage, and to bear the trials of
my domestic life, and as I have an extra burden on my
mind today ...’
‘It seems to me,’ interrupted the prince, ‘that I was
foolish to trouble you just now. However, at present you
... Good-bye!’
‘Indeed, you must not go away like that, young man,
you must not!’ cried the general. ‘My friend here is a
widow, the mother of a family; her words come straight
from her heart, and find an echo in mine. A visit to her is
merely an affair of a few minutes; I am quite at home in
her house. I will have a wash, and dress, and then we can
drive to the Grand Theatre. Make up your mind to spend
the evening with me.... We are just there—that’s the
house... Why, Colia! you here! Well, is Marfa Borisovna
at home or have you only just come?’
‘Oh no! I have been here a long while,’ replied Colia,
who was at the front door when the general met him. ‘I
am keeping Hippolyte company. He is worse, and has
been in bed all day. I came down to buy some cards.
Marfa Borisovna expects you. But what a state you are in, The Idiot
238 of 1149
father!’ added the boy, noticing his father’s unsteady gait.
‘Well, let us go in.’
On meeting Colia the prince determined to accompany
the general, though he made up his mind to stay as short a
time as possible. He wanted Colia, but firmly resolved to
leave the general behind. He could not forgive himself for
being so simple as to imagine that Ivolgin would be of any
use. The three climbed up the long staircase until they
reached the fourth floor where Madame Terentieff lived.
‘You intend to introduce the prince?’ asked Colia, as
they went up.
‘Yes, my boy. I wish to present him: General Ivolgin
and Prince Muishkin! But what’s the matter? ... what? ...
How is Marfa Borisovna?’
‘You know, father, you would have done much better
not to come at all! She is ready to eat you up! You have
not shown yourself since the day before yesterday and she
is expecting the money. Why did you promise her any?
You are always the same! Well, now you will have to get
out of it as best you can.’
They stopped before a somewhat low doorway on the
fourth floor. Ardalion Alexandrovitch, evidently much out
of countenance, pushed Muishkin in front. The Idiot
239 of 1149
‘I will wait here,’ he stammered. ‘I should like to
surprise her. ....’
Colia entered first, and as the door stood open, the
mistress of the house peeped out. The surprise of the
general’s imagination fell very flat, for she at once began to
address him in terms of reproach.
Marfa Borisovna was about forty years of age. She wore
a dressing-jacket, her feet were in slippers, her face
painted, and her hair was in dozens of small plaits. No
sooner did she catch sight of Ardalion Alexandrovitch than
she screamed:
‘There he is, that wicked, mean wretch! I knew it was
he! My heart misgave me!’
The old man tried to put a good face on the affair.
‘Come, let us go in—it’s all right,’ he whispered in the
prince’s ear.
But it was more serious than he wished to think. As
soon as the visitors had crossed the low dark hall, and
entered the narrow reception-room, furnished with half a
dozen cane chairs, and two small card-tables, Madame
Terentieff, in the shrill tones habitual to her, continued
her stream of invectives.
‘Are you not ashamed? Are you not ashamed? You
barbarian! You tyrant! You have robbed me of all I The Idiot
