The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (grave mercy TXT) đ
- Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky
- Performer: 014044792X
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He suddenly took a seat, very unceremoniously, and began his story. It was very disconnected; the prince frowned, and wished he could get away; but suddenly a few words struck him. He sat stiff with wonderâLebedeff said some extraordinary things.
In the first place he began about some letter; the name of Aglaya Ivanovna came in. Then suddenly he broke off and began to accuse the prince of something; he was apparently offended with him. At first he declared that the prince had trusted him with his confidences as to âa certain personâ (Nastasia Philipovna), but that of late his friendship had been thrust back into his bosom, and his innocent question as to âapproaching family changesâ had been curtly put aside, which Lebedeff declared, with tipsy tears, he could not bear; especially as he knew so much already both from Rogojin and Nastasia Philipovna and her friend, and from Varvara Ardalionovna, and even from Aglaya Ivanovna, through his daughter Vera. âAnd who told Lizabetha Prokofievna something in secret, by letter? Who told her all about the movements of a certain person called Nastasia Philipovna? Who was the anonymous person, eh? Tell me!â
âSurely not you?â cried the prince.
âJust so,â said Lebedeff, with dignity; âand only this very morning I have sent up a letter to the noble lady, stating that I have a matter of great importance to communicate. She received the letter; I know she got it; and she received ME, too.â
âHave you just seen Lizabetha Prokofievna?â asked the prince, scarcely believing his ears.
âYes, I saw her, and got the said slap in the face as mentioned. She chucked the letter back to me unopened, and kicked me out of the house, morally, not physically, although not far off it.â
âWhat letter do you mean she returned unopened?â
âWhat! didnât I tell you? Ha, ha, ha! I thought I had. Why, I received a letter, you know, to be handed overââFrom whom? To whom?â
But it was difficult, if not impossible, to extract anything from Lebedeff. All the prince could gather was, that the letter had been received very early, and had a request written on the outside that it might be sent on to the address given.
âJust as before, sir, just as before! To a certain person, and from a certain hand. The individualâs name who wrote the letter is to be represented by the letter A.ââ
âWhat? Impossible! To Nastasia Philipovna? Nonsense!â cried the prince.
âIt was, I assure you, and if not to her then to Rogojin, which is the same thing. Mr. Hippolyte has had letters, too, and all from the individual whose name begins with an A.,â smirked Lebedeff, with a hideous grin.
As he kept jumping from subject to subject, and forgetting what he had begun to talk about, the prince said nothing, but waited, to give him time.
It was all very vague. Who had taken the letters, if letters there were? Probably Veraâand how could Lebedeff have got them? In all probability, he had managed to steal the present letter from Vera, and had himself gone over to Lizabetha Prokofievna with some idea in his head. So the prince concluded at last.
âYou are mad!â he cried, indignantly.
âNot quite, esteemed prince,â replied Lebedeff, with some acerbity. âI confess I thought of doing you the service of handing the letter over to yourself, but I decided that it would pay me better to deliver it up to the noble lady aforesaid, as I had informed her of everything hitherto by anonymous letters; so when I sent her up a note from myself, with the letter, you know, in order to fix a meeting for eight oâclock this morning, I signed it âyour secret correspondent.â They let me in at onceâ very quicklyâby the back door, and the noble lady received me.â
âWell? Go on.â
âOh, well, when I saw her she almost punched my head, as I say; in fact so nearly that one might almost say she did punch my head. She threw the letter in my face; she seemed to reflect first, as if she would have liked to keep it, but thought better of it and threw it in my face instead. âIf anybody can have been such a fool as to trust a man like you to deliver the letter,â says she,â take it and deliver it! âHey! she was grandly indignant. A fierce, fiery lady that, sir!â
âWhereâs the letter now?â
âOh, Iâve still got it, here!â
And he handed the prince the very letter from Aglaya to Gania, which the latter showed with so much triumph to his Sister at a later hour.
âThis letter cannot be allowed to remain in your hands.â
âItâs for youâfor you! Iâve brought it you on purpose!â cried Lebedeff, excitedly. âWhy, Iâm yours again now, heart and hand, your slave; there was but a momentary pause in the flow of my love and esteem for you. Mea culpa, mea culpa! as the Pope of Rome says.
âThis letter should be sent on at once,â said the prince, disturbed. âIâll hand it over myself.â
âWouldnât it be better, esteemed prince, wouldnât it be betterâ toâdonât you knowââ
Lebedeff made a strange and very expressive grimace; he twisted about in his chair, and did something, apparently symbolical, with his hands.
âWhat do you mean?â said the prince.
âWhy, open it, for the time being, donât you know?â he said, most confidentially and mysteriously.
The prince jumped up so furiously that Lebedeff ran towards the door; having gained which strategic position, however, he stopped and looked back to see if he might hope for pardon.
âOh, Lebedeff, Lebedeff! Can a man really sink to such depths of meanness?â said the prince, sadly.
Lebedeffâs face brightened.
âOh, Iâm a mean wretchâa mean wretch!â he said, approaching the prince once more, and beating his breast, with tears in his eyes.
âItâs abominable dishonesty, you know!â
âDishonestyâit is, it is! Thatâs the very word!â
âWhat in the world induces you to act so? You are nothing but a spy. Why did you write anonymously to worry so noble and generous a lady? Why should not Aglaya Ivanovna write a note to whomever she pleases? What did you mean to complain of today? What did you expect to get by it? What made you go at all?â
âPure amiable curiosity,âI assure youâdesire to do a service. Thatâs all. Now Iâm entirely yours again, your slave; hang me if you like!â
âDid you go before Lizabetha Prokofievna in your present condition?â inquired the prince.
âNoâoh no, fresherâmore the correct card. I only became this like after the humiliation I suffered there,
âWellâthatâll do; now leave me.â
This injunction had to be repeated several times before the man could be persuaded to move. Even then he turned back at the door, came as far as the middle of the room, and there went through his mysterious motions designed to convey the suggestion that the prince should open the letter. He did not dare put his suggestion into words again.
After this performance, he smiled sweetly and left the room on tiptoe.
All this had been very painful to listen to. One fact stood out certain and clear, and that was that poor Aglaya must be in a state of great distress and indecision and mental torment (âfrom jealousy,â the prince whispered to himself). Undoubtedly in this inexperienced, but hot and proud little head, there were all sorts of plans forming, wild and impossible plans, maybe; and the idea of this so frightened the prince that he could not make up his mind what to do. Something must be done, that was clear.
He looked at the address on the letter once more. Oh, he was not in the least degree alarmed about Aglaya writing such a letter; he could trust her. What he did not like about it was that he could not trust Gania.
However, he made up his mind that he would himself take the note and deliver it. Indeed, he went so far as to leave the house and walk up the road, but changed his mind when he had nearly reached Ptitsinâs door. However, he there luckily met Colia, and commissioned him to deliver the letter to his brother as if direct from Aglaya. Colia asked no questions but simply delivered it, and Gania consequently had no suspicion that it had passed through so many hands.
Arrived home again, the prince sent for Vera Lebedeff and told her as much as was necessary, in order to relieve her mind, for she had been in a dreadful state of anxiety since she had missed the letter. She heard with horror that her father had taken it. Muishkin learned from her that she had on several occasions performed secret missions both for Aglaya and for Rogojin, without, however, having had the slightest idea that in so doing she might injure the prince in any way.
The latter, with one thing and another, was now so disturbed and confused, that when, a couple of hours or so later, a message came from Colia that the general was ill, he could hardly take the news in.
However, when he did master the fact, it acted upon him as a tonic by completely distracting his attention. He went at once to Nina Alexandrovnaâs, whither the general had been carried, and stayed there until the evening. He could do no good, but there are people whom to have near one is a blessing at such times. Colia was in an almost hysterical state; he cried continuously, but was running about all day, all the same; fetching doctors, of whom he collected three; going to the chemistâs, and so on.
The general was brought round to some extent, but the doctors declared that he could not be said to be out of danger. Varia and Nina Alexandrovna never left the sick manâs bedside; Gania was excited and distressed, but would not go upstairs, and seemed afraid to look at the patient. He wrung his hands when the prince spoke to him, and said that âsuch a misfortune at such a momentâ was terrible.
The prince thought he knew what Gania meant by âsuch a moment.â
Hippolyte was not in the house. Lebedeff turned up late in the afternoon; he had been asleep ever since his interview with the prince in the morning. He was quite sober now, and cried with real sincerity over the sick generalâmourning for him as though he were his own brother. He blamed himself aloud, but did not explain why. He repeated over and over again to Nina Alexandrovna that he alone was to blameâno one elseâbut that he had acted out of âpure amiable curiosity,â and that âthe deceased,â as he insisted upon calling the still living general, had been the greatest of geniuses.
He laid much stress on the genius of the sufferer, as if this idea must be one of immense solace in the present crisis.
Nina Alexandrovnaâseeing his sincerity of feelingâsaid at last, and without the faintest suspicion of reproach in her voice: âCome, comeâdonât cry! God will forgive you!â
Lebedeff was so impressed by these words, and the tone in which they were spoken, that he could not leave Nina Alexandrovna all the eveningâin fact, for several days. Till the generalâs death, indeed, he spent almost all his time at his side.
Twice during the day a messenger came to Nina Alexandrovna from the Epanchins to inquire after the invalid.
Whenâlate in the eveningâthe prince made his appearance in Lizabetha Prokofievnaâs drawing-room, he found it full of guests. Mrs. Epanchin questioned him very fully about the general as soon as he appeared; and when old Princess Bielokonski wished to know âwho this general was, and who was Nina Alexandrovna,â she proceeded to explain in a manner which pleased the prince very much.
He himself, when relating
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