Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (best selling autobiographies .txt) đ
- Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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A minute later when he was talking of something else he took it from the table and put it on his bureau.
âI believe you said yesterday you would like to question me... formally... about my acquaintance with the murdered woman?â Raskolnikov was beginning again. âWhy did I put in âI believeââ passed through his mind in a flash. âWhy am I so uneasy at having put in that âI believeâ?â came in a second flash. And he suddenly felt that his uneasiness at the mere contact with Porfiry, at the first words, at the first looks, had grown in an instant to monstrous proportions, and that this was fearfully dangerous. His nerves were quivering, his emotion was increasing. âItâs bad, itâs bad! I shall say too much again.â
âYes, yes, yes! Thereâs no hurry, thereâs no hurry,â muttered Porfiry Petrovitch, moving to and fro about the table without any apparent aim, as it were making dashes towards the window, the bureau and the table, at one moment avoiding Raskolnikovâs suspicious glance, then again standing still and looking him straight in the face.
His fat round little figure looked very strange, like a ball rolling from one side to the other and rebounding back.
âWeâve plenty of time. Do you smoke? have you your own? Here, a cigarette!â he went on, offering his visitor a cigarette. âYou know I am receiving you here, but my own quarters are through there, you know, my government quarters. But I am living outside for the time, I had to have some repairs done here. Itâs almost finished now.... Government quarters, you know, are a capital thing. Eh, what do you think?â
âYes, a capital thing,â answered Raskolnikov, looking at him almost ironically.
âA capital thing, a capital thing,â repeated Porfiry Petrovitch, as though he had just thought of something quite different. âYes, a capital thing,â he almost shouted at last, suddenly staring at Raskolnikov and stopping short two steps from him.
This stupid repetition was too incongruous in its ineptitude with the serious, brooding and enigmatic glance he turned upon his visitor.
But this stirred Raskolnikovâs spleen more than ever and he could not resist an ironical and rather incautious challenge.
âTell me, please,â he asked suddenly, looking almost insolently at him and taking a kind of pleasure in his own insolence. âI believe itâs a sort of legal rule, a sort of legal traditionâfor all investigating lawyersâto begin their attack from afar, with a trivial, or at least an irrelevant subject, so as to encourage, or rather, to divert the man they are cross-examining, to disarm his caution and then all at once to give him an unexpected knock-down blow with some fatal question. Isnât that so? Itâs a sacred tradition, mentioned, I fancy, in all the manuals of the art?â
âYes, yes.... Why, do you imagine that was why I spoke about government quarters... eh?â
And as he said this Porfiry Petrovitch screwed up his eyes and winked; a good-humoured, crafty look passed over his face. The wrinkles on his forehead were smoothed out, his eyes contracted, his features broadened and he suddenly went off into a nervous prolonged laugh, shaking all over and looking Raskolnikov straight in the face. The latter forced himself to laugh, too, but when Porfiry, seeing that he was laughing, broke into such a guffaw that he turned almost crimson, Raskolnikovâs repulsion overcame all precaution; he left off laughing, scowled and stared with hatred at Porfiry, keeping his eyes fixed on him while his intentionally prolonged laughter lasted. There was lack of precaution on both sides, however, for Porfiry Petrovitch seemed to be laughing in his visitorâs face and to be very little disturbed at the annoyance with which the visitor received it. The latter fact was very significant in Raskolnikovâs eyes: he saw that Porfiry Petrovitch had not been embarrassed just before either, but that he, Raskolnikov, had perhaps fallen into a trap; that there must be something, some motive here unknown to him; that, perhaps, everything was in readiness and in another moment would break upon him...
He went straight to the point at once, rose from his seat and took his cap.
âPorfiry Petrovitch,â he began resolutely, though with considerable irritation, âyesterday you expressed a desire that I should come to you for some inquiriesâ (he laid special stress on the word âinquiriesâ). âI have come and if you have anything to ask me, ask it, and if not, allow me to withdraw. I have no time to spare.... I have to be at the funeral of that man who was run over, of whom you... know also,â he added, feeling angry at once at having made this addition and more irritated at his anger. âI am sick of it all, do you hear? and have long been. Itâs partly what made me ill. In short,â he shouted, feeling that the phrase about his illness was still more out of place, âin short, kindly examine me or let me go, at once. And if you must examine me, do so in the proper form! I will not allow you to do so otherwise, and so meanwhile, good-bye, as we have evidently nothing to keep us now.â
âGood heavens! What do you mean? What shall I question you about?â cackled Porfiry Petrovitch with a change of tone, instantly leaving off laughing. âPlease donât disturb yourself,â he began fidgeting from place to place and fussily making Raskolnikov sit down. âThereâs no hurry, thereâs no hurry, itâs all nonsense. Oh, no, Iâm very glad youâve come to see me at last... I look upon you simply as a visitor. And as for my confounded laughter, please excuse it, Rodion Romanovitch. Rodion Romanovitch? That is your name?... Itâs my nerves, you tickled me so with your witty observation; I assure you, sometimes I shake with laughter like an india-rubber ball for half an hour at a time.... Iâm often afraid of an attack of paralysis. Do sit down. Please do, or I shall think you are angry...â
Raskolnikov did not speak; he listened, watching him, still frowning angrily. He did sit down, but still held his cap.
âI must tell you one thing about myself, my dear Rodion Romanovitch,â Porfiry Petrovitch continued, moving about the room and again avoiding his visitorâs eyes. âYou see, Iâm a bachelor, a man of no consequence and not used to society; besides, I have nothing before me, Iâm set, Iâm running to seed and... and have you noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that in our Petersburg circles, if two clever men meet who are not intimate, but respect each other, like you and me, it takes them half an hour before they can find a subject for conversationâthey are dumb, they sit opposite each other and feel awkward. Everyone has subjects of conversation, ladies for instance... people in high society always have their subjects of conversation, câest de rigueur, but people of the middle sort like us, thinking people that is, are always tongue-tied and awkward. What is the reason of it? Whether it is the lack of public interest, or whether it is we are so honest we donât want to deceive one another, I donât know. What do you think? Do put down your cap, it looks as if you were just going, it makes me uncomfortable... I am so delighted...â
Raskolnikov put down his cap and continued listening in silence with a serious frowning face to the vague and empty chatter of Porfiry Petrovitch. âDoes he really want to distract my attention with his silly babble?â
âI canât offer you coffee here; but why not spend five minutes with a friend?â Porfiry pattered on, âand you know all these official duties... please donât mind my running up and down, excuse it, my dear fellow, I am very much afraid of offending you, but exercise is absolutely indispensable for me. Iâm always sitting and so glad to be moving about for five minutes... I suffer from my sedentary life... I always intend to join a gymnasium; they say that officials of all ranks, even Privy Councillors, may be seen skipping gaily there; there you have it, modern science... yes, yes.... But as for my duties here, inquiries and all such formalities... you mentioned inquiries yourself just now... I assure you these interrogations are sometimes more embarrassing for the interrogator than for the interrogated.... You made the observation yourself just now very aptly and wittily.â (Raskolnikov had made no observation of the kind.) âOne gets into a muddle! A regular muddle! One keeps harping on the same note, like a drum! There is to be a reform and we shall be called by a different name, at least, he-he-he! And as for our legal tradition, as you so wittily called it, I thoroughly agree with you. Every prisoner on trial, even the rudest peasant, knows that they begin by disarming him with irrelevant questions (as you so happily put it) and then deal him a knock-down blow, he-he-he!âyour felicitous comparison, he-he! So you really imagined that I meant by âgovernment quartersâ... he-he! You are an ironical person. Come. I wonât go on! Ah, by the way, yes! One word leads to another. You spoke of formality just now, apropos of the inquiry, you know. But whatâs the use of formality? In many cases itâs nonsense. Sometimes one has a friendly chat and gets a good deal more out of it. One can always fall back on formality, allow me to assure you. And after all, what does it amount to? An examining lawyer cannot be bounded by formality at every step. The work of investigation is, so to speak, a free art in its own way, he-he-he!â
Porfiry Petrovitch took breath a moment. He had simply babbled on uttering empty phrases, letting slip a few enigmatic words and again reverting to incoherence. He was almost running about the room, moving his fat little legs quicker and quicker, looking at the ground, with his right hand behind his back, while with his left making gesticulations that were extraordinarily incongruous with his words. Raskolnikov suddenly noticed that as he ran about the room he seemed twice to stop for a moment near the door, as though he were listening.
âIs he expecting anything?â
âYou are certainly quite right about it,â Porfiry began gaily, looking with extraordinary simplicity at Raskolnikov (which startled him and instantly put him on his guard); âcertainly quite right in laughing so wittily at our legal forms, he-he! Some of these elaborate psychological methods are exceedingly ridiculous and perhaps useless, if one adheres too closely to the forms. Yes... I am talking of forms again. Well, if I recognise, or more strictly speaking, if I suspect someone or other to be a criminal in any case entrusted to me... youâre reading for the law, of course, Rodion Romanovitch?â
âYes, I was...â
âWell, then it is a precedent for you for the futureâthough donât suppose I should venture to instruct you after the articles you publish about crime! No, I simply make bold to state it by way of fact, if I took this man or that for a criminal, why, I ask, should I worry him prematurely, even though I had evidence against him? In one case I may be bound, for instance, to arrest a man at once, but another may be in quite a different position, you know, so why shouldnât I let him walk about the town a bit? he-he-he! But I see you donât quite understand, so Iâll give you a clearer example. If I put him in prison too soon, I may very likely give him, so to speak, moral support, he-he! Youâre laughing?â
Raskolnikov had no idea of laughing. He was sitting with compressed lips, his feverish eyes fixed on Porfiry Petrovitchâs.
âYet that is the case, with some types especially, for men are so different. You say âevidenceâ. Well, there may be evidence. But evidence, you know, can generally be taken two ways. I am an examining lawyer and a weak man, I confess it. I should like
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