the presence of your friends, I think I ought to explain,
gentlemen, that I only did so to assert our rights, though
we really wished to have witnesses; we had agreed
unanimously upon the point before we came in. We do
not care who your witnesses may be, or whether they are
your friends or not. As they cannot fail to recognize
Burdovsky’s right (seeing that it is mathematically
demonstrable), it is just as well that the witnesses should be
your friends. The truth will only be more plainly evident.’
‘It is quite true; we had agreed upon that point,’ said
Lebedeff’s nephew, in confirmation.
‘If that is the case, why did you begin by making such a
fuss about it?’ asked the astonished prince.
The boxer was dying to get in a few words; owing, no
doubt, to the presence of the ladies, he was becoming
quite jovial.
‘As to the article, prince,’ he said, ‘I admit that I wrote
it, in spite of the severe criticism of my poor friend, in
whom I always overlook many things because of his
unfortunate state of health. But I wrote and published it in
the form of a letter, in the paper of a friend. I showed it to The Idiot
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no one but Burdovsky, and I did not read it all through,
even to him. He immediately gave me permission to
publish it, but you will admit that I might have done so
without his consent. Publicity is a noble, beneficent, and
universal right. I hope, prince, that you are too progressive
to deny this?’
‘I deny nothing, but you must confess that your
article—‘
‘Is a bit thick, you mean? Well, in a way that is in the
public interest; you will admit that yourself, and after all
one cannot overlook a blatant fact. So much the worse for
the guilty parties, but the public welfare must come before
everything. As to certain inaccuracies and figures of
speech, so to speak, you will also admit that the motive,
aim, and intention, are the chief thing. It is a question,
above all, of making a wholesome example; the individual
case can be examined afterwards; and as to the style—well,
the thing was meant to be humorous, so to speak, and,
after all, everybody writes like that; you must admit it
yourself! Ha, ha!’
‘But, gentlemen, I assure you that you are quite astray,’
exclaimed the prince. ‘You have published this article
upon the supposition that I would never consent to satisfy
Mr. Burdovsky. Acting on that conviction, you have tried The Idiot
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to intimidate me by this publication and to be revenged
for my supposed refusal. But what did you know of my
intentions? It may be that I have resolved to satisfy Mr.
Burdovsky’s claim. I now declare openly, in the presence
of these witnesses, that I will do so.’
‘The noble and intelligent word of an intelligent and
most noble man, at last!’ exclaimed the boxer.
‘Good God!’ exclaimed Lizabetha Prokofievna
involuntarily.
‘This is intolerable,’ growled the general.
‘Allow me, gentlemen, allow me,’ urged the prince.
‘I will explain matters to you. Five weeks ago I
received a visit from Tchebaroff, your agent, Mr.
Burdovsky. You have given a very flattering description of
him in your article, Mr. Keller,’ he continued, turning to
the boxer with a smile, ‘but he did not please me at all. I
saw at once that Tchebaroff was the moving spirit in the
matter, and, to speak frankly, I thought he might have
induced you, Mr. Burdovsky, to make this claim, by
taking advantage of your simplicity.’
‘You have no right.... I am not simple,’ stammered
Burdovsky, much agitated.
‘You have no sort of right to suppose such things,’ said
Lebedeff’s nephew in a tone of authority. The Idiot
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‘It is most offensive!’ shrieked Hippolyte; ‘it is an
insulting suggestion, false, and most ill-timed.’
‘I beg your pardon, gentlemen; please excuse me,’ said
the prince. ‘I thought absolute frankness on both sides
would be best, but have it your own way. I told
Tchebaroff that, as I was not in Petersburg, I would
commission a friend to look into the matter without delay,
and that I would let you know, Mr. Burdovsky.
Gentlemen, I have no hesitation in telling you that it was
the fact of Tchebaroff’s intervention that made me suspect
a fraud. Oh! do not take offence at my words, gentlemen,
for Heaven’s sake do not be so touchy!’ cried the prince,
seeing that Burdovsky was getting excited again, and that
the rest were preparing to protest. ‘If I say I suspected a
fraud, there is nothing personal in that. I had never seen
any of you then; I did not even know your names; I only
judged by Tchebaroff; I am speaking quite generally—if
you only knew how I have been ‘done’ since I came into
my fortune!’
‘You are shockingly naive, prince,’ said Lebedeff’s
nephew in mocking tones.
‘Besides, though you are a prince and a millionaire, and
even though you may really be simple and good-hearted, The Idiot
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you can hardly be outside the general law,’ Hippolyte
declared loudly.
‘Perhaps not; it is very possible,’ the prince agreed
hastily, ‘though I do not know what general law you
allude to. I will go on—only please do not take offence
without good cause. I assure you I do not mean to offend
you in the least. Really, it is impossible to speak three
words sincerely without your flying into a rage! At first I
was amazed when Tchebaroff told me that Pavlicheff had
a son, and that he was in such a miserable position.
Pavlicheff was my benefactor, and my father’s friend. Oh,
Mr. Keller, why does your article impute things to my
father without the slightest foundation? He never
squandered the funds of his company nor ill-treated his
subordinates, I am absolutely certain of it; I cannot
imagine how you could bring yourself to write such a
calumny! But your assertions concerning Pavlicheff are
absolutely intolerable! You do not scruple to make a
libertine of that noble man; you call him a sensualist as
coolly as if you were speaking the truth, and yet it would
not be possible to find a chaster man. He was even a
scholar of note, and in correspondence with several
celebrated scientists, and spent large sums in the interests
of science. As to his kind heart and his good actions, you The Idiot
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were right indeed when you said that I was almost an idiot
at that time, and could hardly understand anything—(I
could speak and understand Russian, though),—but now I
can appreciate what I remember—‘
‘Excuse me,’ interrupted Hippolyte, ‘is not this rather
sentimental? You said you wished to come to the point;
please remember that it is after nine o’clock.’
‘Very well, gentlemen—very well,’ replied the prince.
‘At first I received the news with mistrust, then I said to
myself that I might be mistaken, and that Pavlicheff might
possibly have had a son. But I was absolutely amazed at
the readiness with which the son had revealed the secret of
his birth at the expense of his mother’s honour. For
Tchebaroff had already menaced me with publicity in our
interview….’
‘What nonsense!’ Lebedeff’s nephew interrupted
violently.
‘You have no right—you have no right!’ cried
Burdovsky.
‘The son is not responsible for the misdeeds of his
father; and the mother is not to blame,’ added Hippolyte,
with warmth.
‘That seems to me all the more reason for sparing her,’
said the prince timidly. The Idiot
494 of 1149
‘Prince, you are not only simple, but your simplicity is
almost past the limit,’ said Lebedeff’s nephew, with a
sarcastic smile.
‘But what right had you?’ said Hippolyte in a very
strange tone.
‘None—none whatever,’ agreed the prince hastily. ‘I
admit you are right there, but it was involuntary, and I
immediately said to myself that my personal feelings had
nothing to do with it,— that if I thought it right to satisfy
the demands of Mr. Burdovsky, out of respect for the
memory of Pavlicheff, I ought to do so in any case,
whether I esteemed Mr. Burdovsky or not. I only
mentioned this, gentlemen, because it seemed so unnatural
to me for a son to betray his mother’s secret in such a way.
In short, that is what convinced me that Tchebaroff must
be a rogue, and that he had induced Mr. Burdovsky to
attempt this fraud.’
‘But this is intolerable!’ cried the visitors, some of them
starting to their feet.
‘Gentlemen, I supposed from this that poor Mr.
Burdovsky must be a simple-minded man, quite
defenceless, and an easy tool in the hands of rogues. That
is why I thought it my duty to try and help him as
‘Pavlicheff’s son’; in the first place by rescuing him from The Idiot
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the influence of Tchebaroff, and secondly by making
myself his friend. I have resolved to give him ten thousand
roubles; that is about the sum which I calculate that
Pavlicheff must have spent on me.’
‘What, only ten thousand!’ cried Hippolyte.
‘Well, prince, your arithmetic is not up to much, or
else you are mighty clever at it, though you affect the air
of a simpleton,’ said Lebedeff’s nephew.
‘I will not accept ten thousand roubles,’ said
Burdovsky.
‘Accept, Antip,’ whispered the boxer eagerly, leaning
past the back of Hippolyte’s chair to give his friend this
piece of advice. ‘Take it for the present; we can see about
more later on.’
‘Look here, Mr. Muishkin,’ shouted Hippolyte, ‘please
understand that we are not fools, nor idiots, as your guests
seem to imagine; these ladies who look upon us with such
scorn, and especially this fine gentleman’ (pointing to
Evgenie Pavlovitch) ‘whom I have not the honour of
knowing, though I think I have heard some talk about
him—‘
‘Really, really, gentlemen,’ cried the prince in great
agitation, ‘you are misunderstanding me again. In the first
place, Mr. Keller, you have greatly overestimated my The Idiot
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fortune in your article. I am far from being a millionaire. I
have barely a tenth of what you suppose. Secondly, my
treatment in Switzerland was very far from costing tens of
thousands of roubles. Schneider received six hundred
roubles a year, and he was only paid for the first three
years. As to the pretty governesses whom Pavlicheff is
supposed to have brought from Paris, they only exist in
Mr. Keller’s imagination; it is another calumny. According
to my calculations, the sum spent on me was very
considerably under ten thousand roubles, but I decided on
that sum, and you must admit that in paying a debt I could
not offer Mr. Burdovsky more, however kindly disposed I
might be towards him; delicacy forbids it; I should seem to
be offering him charity instead of rightful payment. I don’t
know how you cannot see that, gentlemen! Besides, I had
no intention of leaving the matter there. I meant to
intervene amicably later on and help to improve poor Mr.
Burdovsky’s position. It is clear that he has been deceived,
or he would never have agreed to anything so vile as the
scandalous revelations about his mother in Mr. Keller’s
article. But, gentlemen, why are you getting angry again?
Are we never to come to an understanding? Well, the
event has proved me right! I have just seen with my own The Idiot
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eyes the proof that my conjecture was correct!’ he added,
with increasing eagerness.
He meant to calm his hearers, and did not perceive that
his words had only increased their irritation.
‘What do you mean? What are you convinced of?’ they
demanded angrily.
‘In the first place, I have had the opportunity of getting
a correct idea of Mr. Burdovsky. I see what he is for
myself. He is an innocent man, deceived by everyone! A
defenceless victim, who deserves indulgence! Secondly,
Gavrila Ardalionovitch, in whose hands I had placed the
matter, had his first interview with me barely an hour ago.
I had not heard from him for some time, as I was away,
and have been ill for three days since my return to St.
Petersburg. He tells me that he has exposed the designs of
Tchebaroff and has proof that justifies my opinion of him.
I know, gentlemen, that many people think me an idiot.
Counting upon my reputation as a man whose purse-
strings are easily loosened, Tchebaroff thought it would be
a simple matter to fleece me, especially by trading on my
gratitude to Pavlicheff. But the main point is—listen,
gentlemen, let me finish!—the main point is that Mr.
Burdovsky is not Pavlicheff’s son at all. Gavrila
Ardalionovitch has just told me of his discovery, and The Idiot
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assures me that he has positive proofs. Well, what do you
think of that? It is scarcely credible, even after all the tricks
that have been played upon me. Please note that we have
positive proofs! I can hardly believe it myself, I assure you;
I do not yet believe it; I am still doubtful, because Gavrila
Ardalionovitch has not had time to go into details; but
there can be no further doubt that Tchebaroff is a rogue!
He has deceived poor Mr. Burdovsky, and all of you,
gentlemen, who have come forward so nobly to support
your friend—(he evidently needs support, I quite see
that!). He has abused your credulity and involved you all
in an attempted fraud, for when all is said and done this
claim is nothing else!’
‘What! a fraud? What, he is not Pavlicheff’s son?
Impossible!’
These exclamations but feebly expressed the profound
bewilderment into which the prince’s words had plunged
Burdovsky’s companions.
‘Certainly it is a fraud! Since Mr. Burdovsky is not
Pavlicheff’s son, his claim is neither more nor less than
attempted fraud (supposing, of course, that he had known
the truth), but the fact is that he has been deceived. I insist
on this point in order to justify him; I repeat that his
simple-mindedness makes him worthy of pity, and that he The Idiot
