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Adelaida had come for the express purpose of obtaining
explanations, and that they suspected him of being
concerned in the affair. And if all this were so, then SHE
must have some terrible object in view! What was it?
There was no stopping HER, as Muishkin knew from
experience, in the performance of anything she had set her
mind on! ‘Oh, she is mad, mad!’ thought the poor prince.
But there were many other puzzling occurrences that
day, which required immediate explanation, and the
prince felt very sad. A visit from Vera Lebedeff distracted
him a little. She brought the infant Lubotchka with her as
usual, and talked cheerfully for some time. Then came her
younger sister, and later the brother, who attended a
school close by. He informed Muishkin that his father had
lately found a new interpretation of the star called
‘wormwood,’ which fell upon the water-springs, as
described in the Apocalypse. He had decided that it meant
the network of railroads spread over the face of Europe at
the present time. The prince refused to believe that
Lebedeff could have given such an interpretation, and they
decided to ask him about it at the earliest opportunity.
Vera related how Keller had taken up his abode with them
on the previous evening. She thought he would remain
for some time, as he was greatly pleased with the society of The Idiot
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General Ivolgin and of the whole family. But he declared
that he had only come to them in order to complete his
education! The prince always enjoyed the company of
Lebedeff’s children, and today it was especially welcome,
for Colia did not appear all day. Early that morning he had
started for Petersburg. Lebedeff also was away on business.
But Gavrila Ardalionovitch had promised to visit
Muishkin, who eagerly awaited his coming.
About seven in the evening, soon after dinner, he
arrived. At the first glance it struck the prince that he, at
any rate, must know all the details of last night’s affair.
Indeed, it would have been impossible for him to remain
in ignorance considering the intimate relationship between
him, Varvara Ardalionovna, and Ptitsin. But although he
and the prince were intimate, in a sense, and although the
latter had placed the Burdovsky affair in his hands-and this
was not the only mark of confidence he had received—it
seemed curious how many matters there were that were
tacitly avoided in their conversations. Muishkin thought
that Gania at times appeared to desire more cordiality and
frankness. It was apparent now, when he entered, that he,
was convinced that the moment for breaking the ice
between them had come at last. The Idiot
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But all the same Gania was in haste, for his sister was
waiting at Lebedeff’s to consult him on an urgent matter
of business. If he had anticipated impatient questions, or
impulsive confidences, he was soon undeceived. The
prince was thoughtful, reserved, even a little absent-
minded, and asked none of the questions—one in
particular—that Gania had expected. So he imitated the
prince’s demeanour, and talked fast and brilliantly upon all
subjects but the one on which their thoughts were
engaged. Among other things Gania told his host that
Nastasia Philipovna had been only four days in Pavlofsk,
and that everyone was talking about her already. She was
staying with Daria Alexeyevna, in an ugly little house in
Mattrossky Street, but drove about in the smartest carriage
in the place. A crowd of followers had pursued her from
the first, young and old. Some escorted her on horse-back
when she took the air in her carriage.
She was as capricious as ever in the choice of her
acquaintances, and admitted few into her narrow circle.
Yet she already had a numerous following and many
champions on whom she could depend in time of need.
One gentleman on his holiday had broken off his
engagement on her account, and an old general had
quarrelled with his only son for the same reason. The Idiot
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She was accompanied sometimes in her carriage by a
girl of sixteen, a distant relative of her hostess. This young
lady sang very well; in fact, her music had given a kind of
notoriety to their little house. Nastasia, however, was
behaving with great discretion on the whole. She dressed
quietly, though with such taste as to drive all the ladies in
Pavlofsk mad with envy, of that, as well as of her beauty
and her carriage and horses.
‘As for yesterday’s episode,’ continued Gania, ‘of course
it was pre-arranged.’ Here he paused, as though expecting
to be asked how he knew that. But the prince did not
inquire. Concerning Evgenie Pavlovitch, Gania stated,
without being asked, that he believed the former had not
known Nastasia Philipovna in past years, but that he had
probably been introduced to her by somebody in the park
during these four days. As to the question of the IOU’s
she had spoken of, there might easily be something in that;
for though Evgenie was undoubtedly a man of wealth, yet
certain of his affairs were equally undoubtedly in disorder.
Arrived at this interesting point, Gania suddenly broke off,
and said no more about Nastasia’s prank of the previous
evening.
At last Varvara Ardalionovna came in search of her
brother, and remained for a few minutes. Without The Idiot
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Muishkin’s asking her, she informed him that Evgenie
Pavlovitch was spending the day in Petersburg, and
perhaps would remain there over tomorrow; and that her
husband had also gone to town, probably in connection
with Evgenie Pavlovitch’s affairs.
‘Lizabetha Prokofievna is in a really fiendish temper
today,’ she added, as she went out, ‘but the most curious
thing is that Aglaya has quarrelled with her whole family;
not only with her father and mother, but with her sisters
also. It is not a good sign.’ She said all this quite casually,
though it was extremely important in the eyes of the
prince, and went off with her brother. Regarding the
episode of ‘Pavlicheff’s son,’ Gania had been absolutely
silent, partly from a kind of false modesty, partly, perhaps,
to ‘spare the prince’s feelings.’ The latter, however,
thanked him again for the trouble he had taken in the
affair.
Muishkin was glad enough to be left alone. He went
out of the garden, crossed the road, and entered the park.
He wished to reflect, and to make up his mind as to a
certain ‘step.’ This step was one of those things, however,
which are not thought out, as a rule, but decided for or
against hastily, and without much reflection. The fact is,
he felt a longing to leave all this and go away—go The Idiot
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anywhere, if only it were far enough, and at once, without
bidding farewell to anyone. He felt a presentiment that if
he remained but a few days more in this place, and among
these people, he would be fixed there irrevocably and
permanently. However, in a very few minutes he decided
that to run away was impossible; that it would be
cowardly; that great problems lay before him, and that he
had no right to leave them unsolved, or at least to refuse
to give all his energy and strength to the attempt to solve
them. Having come to this determination, he turned and
went home, his walk having lasted less than a quarter of an
hour. At that moment he was thoroughly unhappy.
Lebedeff had not returned, so towards evening Keller
managed to penetrate into the prince’s apartments. He was
not drunk, but in a confidential and talkative mood. He
announced that he had come to tell the story of his life to
Muishkin, and had only remained at Pavlofsk for that
purpose. There was no means of turning him out; nothing
short of an earthquake would have removed him.
In the manner of one with long hours before him, he
began his history; but after a few incoherent words he
jumped to the conclusion, which was that ‘having ceased
to believe in God Almighty, he had lost every vestige of The Idiot
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morality, and had gone so far as to commit a theft.’ ‘Could
you imagine such a thing?’ said he.
‘Listen to me, Keller,’ returned the prince. ‘If I were in
your place, I should not acknowledge that unless it were
absolutely necessary for some reason. But perhaps you are
making yourself out to be worse than you are, purposely?’
‘I should tell it to no one but yourself, prince, and I
only name it now as a help to my soul’s evolution. When
I die, that secret will die with me! But, excellency, if you
knew, if you only had the least idea, how difficult it is to
get money nowadays! Where to find it is the question. Ask
for a loan, the answer is always the same: ‘Give us gold,
jewels, or diamonds, and it will be quite easy.’ Exactly
what one has not got! Can you picture that to yourself? I
got angry at last, and said, ‘I suppose you would accept
emeralds?’ ‘Certainly, we accept emeralds with pleasure.
Yes!’ ‘Well, that’s all right,’ said I. ‘Go to the devil, you
den of thieves!’ And with that I seized my hat, and walked
out.’
‘Had you any emeralds?’ asked the prince.
‘What? I have emeralds? Oh, prince! with what
simplicity, with what almost pastoral simplicity, you look
upon life!’ The Idiot
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Could not something be made of this man under good
influences? asked the prince of himself, for he began to
feel a kind of pity for his visitor. He thought little of the
value of his own personal influence, not from a sense of
humility, but from his peculiar way of looking at things in
general. Imperceptibly the conversation grew more
animated and more interesting, so that neither of the two
felt anxious to bring it to a close. Keller confessed, with
apparent sincerity, to having been guilty of many acts of
such a nature that it astonished the prince that he could
mention them, even to him. At every fresh avowal he
professed the deepest repentance, and described himself as
being ‘bathed in tears"; but this did not prevent him from
putting on a boastful air at times, and some of his stories
were so absurdly comical that both he and the prince
laughed like madmen.
‘One point in your favour is that you seem to have a
child-like mind, and extreme truthfulness,’ said the prince
at last. ‘Do you know that that atones for much?’
‘I am assuredly noble-minded, and chivalrous to a
degree!’ said Keller, much softened. ‘But, do you know,
this nobility of mind exists in a dream, if one may put it
so? It never appears in practice or deed. Now, why is that?
I can never understand.’ The Idiot
563 of 1149
‘Do not despair. I think we may say without fear of
deceiving ourselves, that you have now given a fairly exact
account of your life. I, at least, think it would be
impossible to add much to what you have just told me.’
‘Impossible?’ cried Keller, almost pityingly. ‘Oh prince,
how little you really seem to understand human nature!’
‘Is there really much more to be added?’ asked the
prince, with mild surprise. ‘Well, what is it you really
want of me? Speak out; tell me why you came to make
your confession to me?’
‘What did I want? Well, to begin with, it is good to
meet a man like you. It is a pleasure to talk over my faults
with you. I know you for one of the best of men ... and
then ... then ...’
He hesitated, and appeared so much embarrassed that
the prince helped him out.
‘Then you wanted me to lend you money?’
The words were spoken in a grave tone, and even
somewhat shyly.
Keller started, gave an astonished look at the speaker,
and thumped the table with his fist.
‘Well, prince, that’s enough to knock me down! It
astounds me! Here you are, as simple and innocent as a
knight of the golden age, and yet ... yet ... you read a The Idiot
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man’s soul like a psychologist! Now, do explain it to me,
prince, because I ... I really do not understand! ... Of
course, my aim was to borrow money all along, and you
... you asked the question as if there was nothing
blameable in it—as if you thought it quite natural.’
‘Yes ... from you it is quite natural.’
‘And you are not offended?’
‘Why should I be offended?’
‘Well, just listen, prince. I remained here last evening,
partly because I have a great admiration for the French
archbishop Bourdaloue. I enjoyed a discussion over him
till three o’clock in the morning, with Lebedeff; and then
... then—I swear by all I hold sacred that I am telling you
the truth—then I wished to develop my soul in this frank
and heartfelt confession to you. This was my thought as I
was sobbing myself to sleep at dawn. Just as I was losing
consciousness, tears in my soul, tears on my face (I
remember how I lay there sobbing), an idea from hell
struck me. ‘Why not, after confessing, borrow money
from him?’ You see, this confession was a kind of
masterstroke; I intended to use it as a means to your good
grace and favour—and then—then I meant to walk off
with a hundred and fifty roubles. Now, do you not call
that base?’ The Idiot
565 of 1149
‘It is hardly an exact statement of the case,’ said the
prince in reply. ‘You have confused your motives and
ideas, as I need scarcely say too often happens to myself. I
can assure you, Keller, I reproach myself bitterly for it
sometimes. When you were talking just now I seemed to
be listening to something about myself. At times I have
imagined that all men were the same,’ he continued
earnestly, for he appeared to be much interested in the
conversation, ‘and that consoled me in a certain degree,
for a DOUBLE motive is a thing most difficult to fight
against. I have tried, and I know. God knows whence they
arise, these ideas that you speak of as base. I fear these
double motives more than ever just now, but I am not
