III.
General Ivan Fedorovitch Epanchin was standing In the middle of
the room, and gazed with great curiosity at the prince as he
entered. He even advanced a couple of steps to meet him.
The prince came forward and introduced himself.
"Quite so," replied the general, "and what can I do for you?"
"Oh, I have no special business; my principal object was to make
your acquaintance. I should not like to disturb you. I do not
know your times and arrangements here, you see, but I have only
just arrived. I came straight from the station. I am come direct
from Switzerland."
The general very nearly smiled, but thought better of it and kept
his smile back. Then he reflected, blinked his eyes, stared at his guest
once more from head to foot; then abruptly motioned him to a
chair, sat down himself, and waited with some impatience for the
prince to speak.
Gania stood at his table in the far corner of the room, turning
over papers.
"I have not much time for making acquaintances, as a rule," said
the general, "but as, of course, you have your object in coming,
I--"
"I felt sure you would think I had some object in view when I
resolved to pay you this visit," the prince interrupted; "but I
give you my word, beyond the pleasure of making your acquaintance
I had no personal object whatever."
"The pleasure is, of course, mutual; but life is not all
pleasure, as you are aware. There is such a thing as business,
and I really do not see what possible reason there can be, or
what we have in common to--"
"Oh, there is no reason, of course, and I suppose there is
nothing in common between us, or very little; for if I am Prince
Muishkin, and your wife happens to be a member of my house, that
can hardly be called a 'reason.' I quite understand that. And yet
that was my whole motive for coming. You see I have not been in
Russia for four years, and knew very little about anything when I
left. I had been very ill for a long time, and I feel now the
need of a few good friends. In fact, I have a certain question
upon which I much need advice, and do not know whom to go to for
it. I thought of your family when I was passing through Berlin.
'They are almost relations,' I said to myself,' so I'll begin
with them; perhaps we may get on with each other, I with them and
they with me, if they are kind people;' and I have heard that you
are very kind people!"
"Oh, thank you, thank you, I'm sure," replied the general,
considerably taken aback. "May I ask where you have taken up your
quarters?"
"Nowhere, as yet."
"What, straight from the station to my house? And how about your
luggage?"
"I only had a small bundle, containing linen, with me, nothing
more. I can carry it in my hand, easily. There will be plenty of
time to take a room in some hotel by the evening."
"Oh, then you DO intend to take a room?"
"Of course."
"To judge from your words, you came straight to my house with the
intention of staying there."
"That could only have been on your invitation. I confess,
however, that I should not have stayed here even if you had
invited me, not for any particular reason, but because it is--
well, contrary to my practice and nature, somehow."
"Oh, indeed! Then it is perhaps as well that I neither DID invite
you, nor DO invite you now. Excuse me, prince, but we had better
make this matter clear, once for all. We have just agreed that
with regard to our relationship there is not much to be said,
though, of course, it would have been very delightful to us to
feel that such relationship did actually exist; therefore,
perhaps--"
"Therefore, perhaps I had better get up and go away?" said the
prince, laughing merrily as he rose from his place; just as
merrily as though the circumstances were by no means strained or
difficult. "And I give you my word, general, that though I know
nothing whatever of manners and customs of society, and how
people live and all that, yet I felt quite sure that this visit
of mine would end exactly as it has ended now. Oh, well, I
suppose it's all right; especially as my letter was not answered.
Well, good-bye, and forgive me for having disturbed you!"
The prince's expression was so good-natured at this moment, and
so entirely free from even a suspicion of unpleasant feeling was
the smile with which he looked at the general as he spoke, that
the latter suddenly paused, and appeared to gaze at his guest
from quite a new point of view, all in an instant.
"Do you know, prince," he said, in quite a different tone, "I do
not know you at all, yet, and after all, Elizabetha Prokofievna
would very likely be pleased to have a peep at a man of her own
name. Wait a little, if you don't mind, and if you have time to
spare?"
"Oh, I assure you I've lots of time, my time is entirely my own!"
And the prince immediately replaced his soft, round hat on the
table. "I confess, I thought Elizabetha Prokofievna would very
likely remember that I had written her a letter. Just now your
servant--outside there--was dreadfully suspicious that I had come
to beg of you. I noticed that! Probably he has very strict
instructions on that score; but I assure you I did not come to
beg. I came to make some friends. But I am rather bothered at
having disturbed you; that's all I care about.--"
"Look here, prince," said the general, with a cordial smile, "if
you really are the sort of man you appear to be, it may be a
source of great pleasure to us to make your better acquaintance;
but, you see, I am a very busy man, and have to be perpetually
sitting here and signing papers, or off to see his excellency, or
to my department, or somewhere; so that though I should be glad
to see more of people, nice people--you see, I--however, I am
sure you are so well brought up that you will see at once, and--
but how old are you, prince?"
"Twenty-six."
"No? I thought you very much younger."
"Yes, they say I have a 'young' face. As to disturbing you I
shall soon learn to avoid doing that, for I hate disturbing
people. Besides, you and I are so differently constituted, I
should think, that there must be very little in common between
us. Not that I will ever believe there is NOTHING in common
between any two people, as some declare is the case. I am sure
people make a great mistake in sorting each other into groups, by
appearances; but I am boring you, I see, you--"
"Just two words: have you any means at all? Or perhaps you may be
intending to undertake some sort of employment? Excuse my
questioning you, but--"
"Oh, my dear sir, I esteem and understand your kindness in
putting the question. No; at present I have no means whatever,
and no employment either, but I hope to find some. I was living
on other people abroad. Schneider, the professor who treated me
and taught me, too, in Switzerland, gave me just enough money for
my journey, so that now I have but a few copecks left. There
certainly is one question upon which I am anxious to have advice,
but--"
"Tell me, how do you intend to live now, and what are your
plans?" interrupted the general.
"I wish to work, somehow or other."
"Oh yes, but then, you see, you are a philosopher. Have you any
talents, or ability in any direction--that is, any that would
bring in money and bread? Excuse me again--"
"Oh, don't apologize. No, I don't think I have either talents or
special abilities of any kind; on the contrary. I have always
been an invalid and unable to learn much. As for bread, I should
think--"
The general interrupted once more with questions; while the
prince again replied with the narrative we have heard before. It
appeared that the general had known Pavlicheff; but why the
latter had taken an interest in the prince, that young gentleman
could not explain; probably by virtue of the old friendship with
his father, he thought.
The prince had been left an orphan when quite a little child, and
Pavlicheff had entrusted him to an old lady, a relative of his
own, living in the country, the child needing the fresh air and
exercise of country life. He was educated, first by a governess,
and afterwards by a tutor, but could not remember much about this
time of his life. His fits were so frequent then, that they made
almost an idiot of him (the prince used the expression "idiot"
himself). Pavlicheff had met Professor Schneider in Berlin, and
the latter had persuaded him to send the boy to Switzerland, to
Schneider's establishment there, for the cure of his epilepsy,
and, five years before this time, the prince was sent off. But
Pavlicheff had died two or three years since, and Schneider had
himself supported the young fellow, from that day to this, at his
own expense. Although he had not quite cured him, he had greatly
improved his condition; and now, at last, at the prince's own
desire, and because of a certain matter which came to the ears of
the latter, Schneider had despatched the young man to Russia.
The general was much astonished.
"Then you have no one, absolutely NO one in Russia?" he asked.
"No one, at present; but I hope to make friends; and then I have
a letter from--"
"At all events," put in the general, not listening to the news
about the letter, "at all events, you must have learned
SOMETHING, and your malady would not prevent your undertaking
some easy work, in one of the departments, for instance?
"Oh dear no, oh no! As for a situation, I should much like to
find one for I am anxious to discover what I really am fit for. I
have learned a good deal in the last four years, and, besides, I
read a great many Russian books."
"Russian books, indeed ? Then, of course, you can read and write
quite correctly?"
"Oh dear, yes!"
"Capital! And your handwriting?"
"Ah, there I am REALLY talented! I may say l am a real
caligraphist. Let me write you something, just to show you," said
the prince, with some excitement.
"With pleasure! In fact, it is very necessary. I like your
readiness, prince; in fact, I must say--I-I-like you very well,
altogether," said the general.
"What delightful writing materials you have here, such a lot of
pencils and things, and what beautiful paper! It's a charming
room altogether. I know that picture, it's a Swiss view. I'm sure
the artist painted it from nature, and that I have seen the very
place--"
"Quite likely, though I bought it here. Gania, give the prince
some paper. Here are pens and paper; now then, take this table.
What's this?" the general continued to Gania, who had that moment
taken a large photograph out of his portfolio, and shown it to
his senior. "Halloa! Nastasia Philipovna! Did she send it you
herself? Herself?" he inquired, with much curiosity and great
animation.
"She gave it me just now, when I called in to congratulate her. I
asked her for it long ago. I don't know whether she meant it for
a hint that I had come empty-handed, without a present for her
birthday, or what," added Gania, with an unpleasant smile.
"Oh, nonsense, nonsense," said the general, with decision. " What
extraordinary ideas you have, Gania! As if she would hint; that's
not her way at all. Besides, what could you give her, without
having thousands at your disposal? You might have given her your
portrait, however. Has she ever asked you for it?"
"No, not yet. Very likely she never will. I suppose you haven't
forgotten about tonight, have you, Ivan Fedorovitch? You were
one of those specially invited, you know."
"Oh no, I remember all right, and I shall go, of course. I should
think so! She's twenty-five years old today! And, you know,
Gania, you must be ready for great things; she has promised both
myself and Afanasy Ivanovitch that she will give a decided answer
tonight, yes or no. So be prepared!"
Gania suddenly became so ill at ease that his face grew paler
than ever.
"Are you sure she said that?" he asked, and his voice seemed to
quiver as he spoke.
"Yes, she promised. We both worried her so that she gave in; but
she wished us to tell you nothing about it until the day. "
The general watched Gania's confusion intently, and clearly did
not like it.
"Remember, Ivan Fedorovitch," said Gania, in great agitation,
"that I was to be free too, until her decision; and that even
then I was to have my 'yes or no' free."
"Why, don't you, aren't you--" began the general, in alarm.
"Oh, don't misunderstand--"
"But, my dear fellow, what are you doing, what do you mean?"
"Oh, I'm not rejecting her. I may have expressed myself badly,
but I didn't mean that."
"Reject her! I should think not!" said the general with
annoyance, and apparently not in the least anxious to conceal it.
"Why, my dear fellow, it's not a question of your rejecting her,
it is whether you are prepared to receive her consent joyfully,
and with proper satisfaction. How are things going on at home?"
"At home? Oh, I can do as I like there, of course; only my father
will make a fool of himself, as usual. He is rapidly becoming a
general nuisance. I don't ever talk to him now, but I hold him in
cheek, safe enough. I swear if it had not been for my mother, I
should have shown him the way out, long ago. My mother is always
crying, of course, and my sister sulks. I had to tell them at
last that I intended to be master of my own destiny, and that I
expect to be obeyed at home. At least, I gave my sister to
understand as much, and my mother was present."
"Well, I must say, I cannot understand it!" said the general,
shrugging his shoulders and dropping his hands. "You remember
your mother, Nina Alexandrovna, that day she came and sat here
and groaned-and when I asked her what was the matter, she says,
'Oh, it's such a DISHONOUR to us!' dishonour! Stuff and nonsense!
I should like to know who can reproach Nastasia Philipovna, or
who can say a word of any kind against her. Did she mean because
Nastasia had been living with Totski? What nonsense it is! You
would not let her come near your daughters, says Nina
Alexandrovna. What next, I wonder? I don't see how she can fail
to--to understand--"
"Her own position?" prompted Gania. "She does understand. Don't
be annoyed with her. I have warned her not to meddle in other
people's affairs. However, although there's comparative peace at
home at present, the storm will break if anything is finally
settled tonight."
The prince heard the whole of the foregoing conversation, as he
sat at the table, writing. He finished at last, and brought the
result of his labour to the general's desk.
"So this is Nastasia Philipovna," he said, looking attentively
and curiously at the portrait. "How wonderfully beautiful!" he
immediately added, with warmth. The picture was certainly that of
an unusually lovely woman. She was photographed in a black silk
dress of simple design, her hair was evidently dark and plainly
arranged, her eyes were deep and thoughtful, the expression of
her face passionate, but proud. She was rather thin, perhaps, and
a little pale. Both Gania and the general gazed at the prince in
amazement.
"How do you know it's Nastasia Philipovna?" asked the general;
"you surely don't know her already, do you? "
"Yes, I do! I have only been one day in Russia, but I have heard
of the great beauty!" And the prince proceeded to narrate his
meeting with Rogojin in the train and the whole of the latter's
story.
"There's news!" said the general in some excitement, after
listening to the story with engrossed attention.
"Oh, of course it's nothing but humbug!" cried Gania, a little
disturbed, however. "It's all humbug; the young merchant was
pleased to indulge in a little innocent recreation! I have heard
something of Rogojin!"
"Yes, so have I!" replied the general. "Nastasia Philipovna told
us all about the earrings that very day. But now it is quite a
different matter. You see the fellow really has a million of
roubles, and he is passionately in love. The whole story smells
of passion, and we all know what this class of gentry is capable
of when infatuated. I am much afraid of some disagreeable
scandal, I am indeed!"
"You are afraid of the million, I suppose," said Gania, grinning
and showing his teeth.
"And you are NOT, I presume, eh?"
"How did he strike you, prince?" asked Gania, suddenly. "Did he
seem to be a serious sort of a man, or just a common rowdy
fellow? What was your own opinion about the matter?"
While Gania put this question, a new idea suddenly flashed into
his brain, and blazed out, impatiently, in his eyes. The general,
who was really agitated and disturbed, looked at the prince too,
but did not seem to expect much from his reply.
"I really don't quite know how to tell you," replied the prince,
"but it certainly did seem to me that the man was full of
passion, and not, perhaps, quite healthy passion. He seemed to be
still far from well. Very likely he will be in bed again in a day
or two, especially if he lives fast."
"No! do you think so?" said the general, catching at the idea.
"Yes, I do think so!"
"Yes, but the sort of scandal I referred to may happen at any
moment. It may be this very evening," remarked Gania to the
general, with a smile.
"Of course; quite so. In that case it all depends upon what is
going on in her brain at this moment."
"You know the kind of person she is at times."
"How? What kind of person is she?" cried the general, arrived at
the limits of his patience. Look here, Gania, don't you go
annoying her tonight What you are to do is to be as agreeable
towards her as ever you can. Well, what are you smiling at? You
must understand, Gania, that I have no interest whatever in
speaking like this. Whichever way the question is settled, it
will be to my advantage. Nothing will move Totski from his
resolution, so I run no risk. If there is anything I desire, you
must know that it is your benefit only. Can't you trust me? You
are a sensible fellow, and I have been counting on you; for, in
this matter, that, that--"
"Yes, that's the chief thing," said Gania, helping the general
out of his difficulties again, and curling his lips in an
envenomed smile, which he did not attempt to conceal. He gazed
with his fevered eyes straight into those of the general, as
though he were anxious that the latter might read his thoughts.
The general grew purple with anger.
"Yes, of course it is the chief thing!" he cried, looking sharply
at Gania. "What a very curious man you are, Gania! You actually
seem to be GLAD to hear of this millionaire fellow's arrival-
just as though you wished for an excuse to get out of the whole
thing. This is an affair in which you ought to act honestly
with both sides, and give due warning, to avoid compromising
others. But, even now, there is still time. Do you understand me?
I wish to know whether you desire this arrangement or whether you
do not? If not, say so,--and-and welcome! No one is trying to
force you into the snare, Gavrila Ardalionovitch, if you see
a snare in the matter, at least."
"I do desire it," murmured Gania, softly but firmly, lowering his
eyes; and he relapsed into gloomy silence.
The general was satisfied. He had excited himself, and was
evidently now regretting that he had gone so far. He turned to
the prince, and suddenly the disagreeable thought of the latter's
presence struck him, and the certainty that he must have heard
every word of the conversation. But he felt at ease in another
moment; it only needed one glance at the prince to see that in
that quarter there was nothing to fear.
"Oh!" cried the general, catching sight of the prince's specimen
of caligraphy, which the latter had now handed him for
inspection. "Why, this is simply beautiful; look at that, Gania,
there's real talent there!"
On a sheet of thick writing-paper the prince had written in
medieval characters the legend:
"The gentle Abbot Pafnute signed this."
"There," explained the prince, with great delight and animation,
"there, that's the abbot's real signature--from a manuscript of
the fourteenth century. All these old abbots and bishops used to
write most beautifully, with such taste and so much care and
diligence. Have you no copy of Pogodin, general? If you had one I
could show you another type. Stop a bit--here you have the large
round writing common in France during the eighteenth century.
Some of the letters are shaped quite differently from those now
in use. It was the writing current then, and employed by public
writers generally. I copied this from one of them, and you can
see how good it is. Look at the well-rounded a and d. I have
tried to translate the French character into the Russian letters-
-a difficult thing to do, but I think I have succeeded fairly.
Here is a fine sentence, written in a good, original hand--'Zeal
triumphs over all.' That is the script of the Russian War Office.
That is how official documents addressed to important personages
should be written. The letters are round, the type black, and the
style somewhat remarkable. A stylist would not allow these
ornaments, or attempts at flourishes--just look at these
unfinished tails!--but it has distinction and really depicts the
soul of the writer. He would like to give play to his
imagination, and follow the inspiration of his genius, but a
soldier is only at ease in the guard-room, and the pen stops
half-way, a slave to discipline. How delightful! The first time
I met an example of this handwriting, I was positively
astonished, and where do you think I chanced to find it? In
Switzerland, of all places! Now that is an ordinary English hand.
It can hardly be improved, it is so refined and exquisite--almost
perfection. This is an example of another kind, a mixture of
styles. The copy was given me by a French commercial traveller.
It is founded on the English, but the downstrokes are a little
blacker, and more marked. Notice that the oval has some slight
modification--it is more rounded. This writing allows for
flourishes; now a flourish is a dangerous thing! Its use requires
such taste, but, if successful, what a distinction it gives to
the whole! It results in an incomparable type--one to fall in love
with!"
"Dear me! How you have gone into all the refinements and details
of the question! Why, my dear fellow, you are not a caligraphist,
you are an artist! Eh, Gania ?"
"Wonderful!" said Gania. "And he knows it too," he added, with a
sarcastic smile.
"You may smile,--but there's a career in this," said the general.
"You don't know what a great personage I shall show this to,
prince. Why, you can command a situation at thirty-five roubles
per month to start with. However, it's half-past twelve," he
concluded, looking at his watch; "so to business, prince, for I
must be setting to work and shall not see you again today. Sit
down a minute. I have told you that I cannot receive you myself
very often, but I should like to be of some assistance to you,
some small assistance, of a kind that would give you
satisfaction. I shall find you a place in one of the State
departments, an easy place--but you will require to be accurate.
Now, as to your plans--in the house, or rather in the family of
Gania here--my young friend, whom I hope you will know better--his
mother and sister have prepared two or three rooms for lodgers,
and let them to highly recommended young fellows, with board and
attendance. I am sure Nina Alexandrovna will take you in on my
recommendation. There you will be comfortable and well taken care
of; for I do not think, prince, that you are the sort of man to
be left to the mercy of Fate in a town like Petersburg. Nina
Alexandrovna, Gania's mother, and Varvara Alexandrovna, are
ladies for whom I have the highest possible esteem and respect.
Nina Alexandrovna is the wife of General Ardalion Alexandrovitch,
my old brother in arms, with whom, I regret to say, on account of
certain circumstances, I am no longer acquainted. I give you all
this information, prince, in order to make it clear to you that I
am personally recommending you to this family, and that in so
doing, I am more or less taking upon myself to answer for you.
The terms are most reasonable, and I trust that your salary will
very shortly prove amply sufficient for your expenditure. Of
course pocket-money is a necessity, if only a little; do not be
angry, prince, if I strongly recommend you to avoid carrying
money in your pocket. But as your purse is quite empty at the
present moment, you must allow me to press these twenty-five
roubles upon your acceptance, as something to begin with. Of
course we will settle this little matter another time, and if you
are the upright, honest man you look, I anticipate very little
trouble between us on that score. Taking so much interest in you
as you may perceive I do, I am not without my object, and you
shall know it in good time. You see, I am perfectly candid with
you. I hope, Gania, you have nothing to say against the prince's
taking up his abode in your house?"
"Oh, on the contrary! my mother will be very glad," said Gania,
courteously and kindly.
"I think only one of your rooms is engaged as yet, is it not?
That fellow Ferd-Ferd--"
"Ferdishenko."
"Yes--I don't like that Ferdishenko. I can't understand why
Nastasia Philipovna encourages him so. Is he really her cousin,
as he says?"
"Oh dear no, it's all a joke. No more cousin than I am."
"Well, what do you think of the arrangement, prince?"
"Thank you, general; you have behaved very kindly to me; all the
more so since I did not ask you to help me. I don't say that out
of pride. I certainly did not know where to lay my head tonight.
Rogojin asked me to come to his house, of course, but--"
"Rogojin? No, no, my good fellow. I should strongly recommend
you, paternally,--or, if you prefer it, as a friend,--to forget
all about Rogojin, and, in fact, to stick to the family into
which you are about to enter."
"Thank you," began the prince; "and since you are so very kind
there is just one matter which I--"
"You must really excuse me," interrupted the general, "but I
positively haven't another moment now. I shall just tell
Elizabetha Prokofievna about you, and if she wishes to receive
you at once--as I shall advise her--I strongly recommend you to
ingratiate yourself with her at the first opportunity, for my
wife may be of the greatest service to you in many ways. If she
cannot receive you now, you must be content to wait till another
time. Meanwhile you, Gania, just look over these accounts, will
you? We mustn't forget to finish off that matter--"
The general left the room, and the prince never succeeded in
broaching the business which he had on hand, though he had
endeavoured to do so four times.
Gania lit a cigarette and offered one to the prince. The
latter accepted the offer, but did not talk, being unwilling to
disturb Gania's work. He commenced to examine the study and its
contents. But Gania hardly so much as glanced at the papers lying
before him; he was absent and thoughtful, and his smile and
general appearance struck the prince still more disagreeably now
that the two were left alone together.
Suddenly Gania approached our hero who was at the moment standing
over Nastasia Philipovna's portrait, gazing at it.
"Do you admire that sort of woman, prince?" he asked, looking
intently at him. He seemed to have some special object in the
question.
"It's a wonderful face," said the prince, "and I feel sure that
her destiny is not by any means an ordinary, uneventful one. Her
face is smiling enough, but she must have suffered terribly--
hasn't she? Her eyes show it--those two bones there, the little
points under her eyes, just where the cheek begins. It's a proud
face too, terribly proud! And I--I can't say whether she is good
and kind, or not. Oh, if she be but good! That would make all
well!"
"And would you marry a woman like that, now?" continued Gania,
never taking his excited eyes off the prince's face.
"I cannot marry at all," said the latter. "I am an invalid."
"Would Rogojin marry her, do you think?"
"Why not? Certainly he would, I should think. He would marry her
tomorrow!--marry her tomorrow and murder her in a week!"
Hardly had the prince uttered the last word when Gania gave such
a fearful shudder that the prince almost cried out.
"What's the matter?" said he, seizing Gania's hand.
"Your highness! His excellency begs your presence in her
excellency's apartments!" announced the footman, appearing at the
door.
The prince immediately followed the man out of the room.
