Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky (famous ebook reader TXT) 📖

a creature like that did not think fit to come, and has not even answered the invitation, which the most ordinary good manners required! I can’t understand why Pyotr Petrovitch has not come? But where’s Sonia? Where has she gone? Ah, there she is at last! what is it, Sonia, where have you been? It’s odd that even at your father’s funeral you should be so unpunctual. Rodion Romanovitch, make room for her beside you. That’s your place, Sonia

… take what you like. Have some of the cold entrée with jelly, that’s the best. They’ll bring the pancakes directly.

Have they given the children some? Polenka, have you got everything? (Cough-cough-cough.) That’s all right. Be a good girl, Lida, and, Kolya, don’t fidget with your feet; sit like a little gentleman. What are you saying, Sonia?’

Sonia hastened to give her Pyotr Petrovitch’s apologies, trying to speak loud enough for everyone to hear and carefully choosing the most respectful phrases which she 679 of 967

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attributed to Pyotr Petrovitch. She added that Pyotr Petrovitch had particularly told her to say that, as soon as he possibly could, he would come immediately to discuss business alone with her and to consider what could be done for her, etc., etc.

Sonia knew that this would comfort Katerina Ivanovna, would flatter her and gratify her pride. She sat down beside Raskolnikov; she made him a hurried bow, glancing curiously at him. But for the rest of the time she seemed to avoid looking at him or speaking to him. She seemed absent-minded, though she kept looking at Katerina Ivanovna, trying to please her. Neither she nor Katerina Ivanovna had been able to get mourning; Sonia was wearing dark brown, and Katerina Ivanovna had on her only dress, a dark striped cotton one.

The message from Pyotr Petrovitch was very successful.

Listening to Sonia with dignity, Katerina Ivanovna inquired with equal dignity how Pyotr Petrovitch was, then at once whispered almost aloud to Raskolnikov that it certainly would have been strange for a man of Pyotr Petrovitch’s position and standing to find himself in such

‘extraordinary company,’ in spite of his devotion to her family and his old friendship with her father.

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‘That’s why I am so grateful to you, Rodion

Romanovitch, that you have not disdained my hospitality, even in such surroundings,’ she added almost aloud. ‘But I am sure that it was only your special affection for my poor husband that has made you keep your promise.’

Then once more with pride and dignity she scanned her visitors, and suddenly inquired aloud across the table of the deaf man: ‘Wouldn’t he have some more meat, and had he been given some wine?’ The old man made no answer and for a long while could not understand what he was asked, though his neighbours amused themselves by poking and shaking him. He simply gazed about him with his mouth open, which only increased the general mirth.

‘What an imbecile! Look, look! Why was he brought?

But as to Pyotr Petrovitch, I always had confidence in him,’ Katerina Ivanovna continued, ‘and, of course, he is not like …’ with an extremely stern face she addressed Amalia Ivanovna so sharply and loudly that the latter was quite disconcerted, ‘not like your dressed up draggletails whom my father would not have taken as cooks into his kitchen, and my late husband would have done them honour if he had invited them in the goodness of his heart.’

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‘Yes, he was fond of drink, he was fond of it, he did drink!’ cried the commissariat clerk, gulping down his twelfth glass of vodka.

‘My late husband certainly had that weakness, and everyone knows it,’ Katerina Ivanovna attacked him at once, ‘but he was a kind and honourable man, who loved and respected his family. The worst of it was his good nature made him trust all sorts of disreputable people, and he drank with fellows who were not worth the sole of his shoe. Would you believe it, Rodion Romanovitch, they found a gingerbread cock in his pocket; he was dead drunk, but he did not forget the children!’

‘A cock? Did you say a cock?’ shouted the commissariat clerk.

Katerina Ivanovna did not vouchsafe a reply. She sighed, lost in thought.

‘No doubt you think, like everyone, that I was too severe with him,’ she went on, addressing Raskolnikov.

‘But that’s not so! He respected me, he respected me very much! He was a kind-hearted man! And how sorry I was for him sometimes! He would sit in a corner and look at me, I used to feel so sorry for him, I used to want to be kind to him and then would think to myself: ‘Be kind to 682 of 967

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him and he will drink again,’ it was only by severity that you could keep him within bounds.’

‘Yes, he used to get his hair pulled pretty often,’ roared the commissariat clerk again, swallowing another glass of vodka.

‘Some fools would be the better for a good drubbing, as well as having their hair pulled. I am not talking of my late husband now!’ Katerina Ivanovna snapped at him.

The flush on her cheeks grew more and more marked, her chest heaved. In another minute she would have been ready to make a scene. Many of the visitors were sniggering, evidently delighted. They began poking the commissariat clerk and whispering something to him.

They were evidently trying to egg him on.

‘Allow me to ask what are you alluding to,’ began the clerk, ‘that is to say, whose … about whom … did you say just now … But I don’t care! That’s nonsense! Widow! I forgive you…. Pass!’

And he took another drink of vodka.

Raskolnikov sat in silence, listening with disgust. He only ate from politeness, just tasting the food that Katerina Ivanovna was continually putting on his plate, to avoid hurting her feelings. He watched Sonia intently. But Sonia became more and more anxious and distressed; she, too, 683 of 967

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foresaw that the dinner would not end peaceably, and saw with terror Katerina Ivanovna’s growing irritation. She knew that she, Sonia, was the chief reason for the ‘genteel’

ladies’ contemptuous treatment of Katerina Ivanovna’s invitation. She had heard from Amalia Ivanovna that the mother was positively offended at the invitation and had asked the question: ‘How could she let her daughter sit down beside that young person?’ Sonia had a feeling that Katerina Ivanovna had already heard this and an insult to Sonia meant more to Katerina Ivanovna than an insult to herself, her children, or her father, Sonia knew that Katerina Ivanovna would not be satisfied now, ‘till she had shown those draggletails that they were both …’ To make matters worse someone passed Sonia, from the other end of the table, a plate with two hearts pierced with an arrow, cut out of black bread. Katerina Ivanovna flushed crimson and at once said aloud across the table that the man who sent it was ‘a drunken ass!’

Amalia Ivanovna was foreseeing something amiss, and at the same time deeply wounded by Katerina Ivanovna’s haughtiness, and to restore the good-humour of the company and raise herself in their esteem she began, apropos of nothing, telling a story about an acquaintance of hers ‘Karl from the chemist’s,’ who was driving one 684 of 967

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night in a cab, and that ‘the cabman wanted him to kill, and Karl very much begged him not to kill, and wept and clasped hands, and frightened and from fear pierced his heart.’ Though Katerina Ivanovna smiled, she observed at once that Amalia Ivanovna ought not to tell anecdotes in Russian; the latter was still more offended, and she retorted that her ‘ Vater aus Berlin was a very important man, and always went with his hands in pockets.’ Katerina Ivanovna could not restrain herself and laughed so much that Amalia Ivanovna lost patience and could scarcely control herself.

‘Listen to the owl!’ Katerina Ivanovna whispered at once, her good- humour almost restored, ‘she meant to say he kept his hands in his pockets, but she said he put his hands in people’s pockets. (Cough- cough.) And have you noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that all these Petersburg foreigners, the Germans especially, are all stupider than we! Can you fancy anyone of us telling how ‘Karl from the chemist’s’ ‘pierced his heart from fear’ and that the idiot, instead of punishing the cabman, ‘clasped his hands and wept, and much begged.’ Ah, the fool! And you know she fancies it’s very touching and does not suspect how stupid she is! To my thinking that drunken commissariat clerk is a great deal cleverer, anyway one can 685 of 967

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see that he has addled his brains with drink, but you know, these foreigners are always so well behaved and serious…. Look how she sits glaring! She is angry, ha-ha!

(Cough-cough-cough.)’

Regaining her good-humour, Katerina Ivanovna began at once telling Raskolnikov that when she had obtained her pension, she intended to open a school for the daughters of gentlemen in her native town T——. This was the first time she had spoken to him of the project, and she launched out into the most alluring details. It suddenly appeared that Katerina Ivanovna had in her hands the very certificate of honour of which Marmeladov had spoken to Raskolnikov in the tavern, when he told him that Katerina Ivanovna, his wife, had danced the shawl dance before the governor and other great personages on leaving school. This certificate of honour was obviously intended now to prove Katerina Ivanovna’s right to open a boarding-school; but she had armed herself with it chiefly with the object of overwhelming ‘those two stuck-up draggletails’ if they came to the dinner, and proving incontestably that Katerina Ivanovna was of the most noble, ‘she might even say aristocratic family, a colonel’s daughter and was far superior to certain adventuresses who have been so much to the fore of late.’

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The certificate of honour immediately passed into the hands of the drunken guests, and Katerina Ivanovna did not try to retain it, for it actually contained the statement en toutes lettres that her father was of the rank of a major, and also a companion of an order, so that she really was almost the daughter of a colonel.

Warming up, Katerina Ivanovna proceeded to enlarge on the peaceful and happy life they would lead in T——, on the gymnasium teachers whom she would engage to give lessons in her boarding-school, one a most respectable old Frenchman, one Mangot, who had taught Katerina Ivanovna herself in old days and was still living in T——, and would no doubt teach in her school on moderate terms. Next she spoke of Sonia who would go with her to T—— and help her in all her plans. At this someone at the further end of the table gave a sudden guffaw.

Though Katerina Ivanovna tried to appear to be disdainfully unaware of it, she raised her voice and began at once speaking with conviction of Sonia’s undoubted ability to assist her, of ‘her gentleness, patience, devotion, generosity and good education,’ tapping Sonia on the cheek and kissing her warmly twice. Sonia flushed crimson, and Katerina Ivanovna suddenly burst into tears, immediately observing that she was ‘nervous and silly, that 687 of 967

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she was too much upset, that it was time to finish, and as the dinner was over, it was time to hand round the tea.’

At that moment, Amalia Ivanovna, deeply aggrieved at taking no part in the conversation, and not being listened to, made one last effort, and with secret misgivings ventured on an exceedingly deep and weighty

observation, that ‘in the future boarding-school she would have to pay particular attention to die Wäsche and that there certainly must be a good dame to look after the linen, and secondly