When next at eleven o’clock Raskolnikov into the
department of the of and sent his name in
to Porfiry Petrovitch, he was at being waiting so long:
it was at least ten minutes he was summoned. He had expected
that they would pounce upon him. But he in the waiting-room, and
people, who had nothing to do with him, were continually
passing to and him. In the next room which looked like an
office, were and they had
no who or what Raskolnikov might be. He looked and
suspiciously about him to see there was not some guard, some
mysterious watch being on him to prevent his escape. But there was
nothing of the sort: he saw only the of in petty
details, then other people, no one to have any with him.
He might go where he liked for them. The in him
that if that man of yesterday, that out of the
earth, had everything, they would not have let him and wait
like that. And would they have waited till he elected to appear at
eleven? Either the man had not yet information, or... or simply
he nothing, had nothing (and how he have anything?)
and so all that had to him the day was again a phantom
exaggerated by his and imagination. This conjecture
had to the day before, in the of all his
alarm and despair. Thinking it all over now and preparing for a fresh
conflict, he was aware that he was trembling--and he a
rush of at the that he was with at
facing that Porfiry Petrovitch. What he above all was
meeting that man again; he him with an intense, hatred
and was his might him. His was such
that he at once; he to go in with a cold and
arrogant and to himself to keep as as possible,
to watch and and for once at least to his overstrained
nerves. At that moment he was to Porfiry Petrovitch.
He Porfiry Petrovitch alone in his study. His study was a room
neither large small, with a large writing-table, that
stood a sofa, in material, a bureau, a
bookcase in the and chairs--all government furniture,
of yellow wood. In the there was a closed door,
beyond it there were no other rooms. On Raskolnikov’s entrance
Porfiry Petrovitch had at once closed the door by which he had come in
and they alone. He met his visitor with an genial
and good-tempered air, and it was only after a minutes that
Raskolnikov saw of a in him, as though he had
been out of his or in something very secret.
“Ah, my dear fellow! Here you are... in our domain”... Porfiry,
holding out hands to him. “Come, down, old man... or perhaps
you don’t like to be called ‘my dear fellow’ and ‘old man!’--_tout
court_? Please don’t think it too familiar.... Here, on the sofa.”
Raskolnikov sat down, his on him. “In our domain,”
the for familiarity, the French phrase _tout court_, were all
characteristic signs.
“He out hands to me, but he did not give me one--he it
back in time,” him suspiciously. Both were each other,
but when their met, quick as they looked away.
“I you this paper... about the watch. Here it is. Is it all
right or shall I copy it again?”
“What? A paper? Yes, yes, don’t be uneasy, it’s all right,” Porfiry
Petrovitch said as though in haste, and after he had said it he took the
paper and looked at it. “Yes, it’s all right. Nothing more is needed,”
he with the same and he the paper on the table.
A minute later when he was talking of something else he took it from the
table and put it on his bureau.
“I you said yesterday you would like to question me...
formally... about my with the woman?” Raskolnikov
was again. “Why did I put in ‘I believe’” passed through
his mind in a flash. “Why am I so at having put in that ‘_I
believe_’?” came in a second flash. And he that his
uneasiness at the with Porfiry, at the words, at the
first looks, had in an to proportions, and that
this was dangerous. His nerves were quivering, his was
increasing. “It’s bad, it’s bad! I shall say too much again.”
“Yes, yes, yes! There’s no hurry, there’s no hurry,” Porfiry
Petrovitch, moving to and about the table without any aim,
as it were making the window, the and the table,
at one moment Raskolnikov’s glance, then again
standing still and looking him in the face.
His little looked very strange, like a rolling
from one to the other and back.
“We’ve of time. Do you smoke? have you your own? Here, a
cigarette!” he on, his visitor a cigarette. “You know I am
receiving you here, but my own are through there, you know, my
government quarters. But I am for the time, I had to
have some repairs done here. It’s almost now.... Government
quarters, you know, are a thing. Eh, what do you think?”
“Yes, a thing,” answered Raskolnikov, looking at him almost
ironically.
“A thing, a thing,” Porfiry Petrovitch, as
though he had just of something different. “Yes, a capital
thing,” he almost at last, at Raskolnikov and
stopping two steps from him.
This was too in its with the
serious, and he upon his visitor.
But this Raskolnikov’s more than and he not
resist an and challenge.
“Tell me, please,” he asked suddenly, looking almost at him
and taking a of in his own insolence. “I it’s a
sort of legal rule, a of legal tradition--for all investigating
lawyers--to their attack from afar, with a trivial, or at least
an subject, so as to encourage, or rather, to the man
they are cross-examining, to his and then all at once to
give him an knock-down with some question. Isn’t
that so? It’s a tradition, mentioned, I fancy, in all the manuals
of the art?”
“Yes, yes.... Why, do you that was why I spoke about government
quarters... eh?”
And as he said this Porfiry Petrovitch up his and winked;
a good-humoured, look passed over his face. The on his
forehead were out, his contracted, his broadened
and he off into a laugh, all
over and looking Raskolnikov in the face. The forced
himself to laugh, too, but when Porfiry, that he was laughing,
broke into such a that he almost crimson, Raskolnikov’s
repulsion all precaution; he left off laughing, and
stared with at Porfiry, his on him while his
intentionally lasted. There was of on
both sides, however, for Porfiry Petrovitch to be laughing in
his visitor’s and to be very little at the with
which the visitor it. The was very significant
in Raskolnikov’s eyes: he saw that Porfiry Petrovitch had not been
embarrassed just either, but that he, Raskolnikov, had perhaps
fallen into a trap; that there must be something, some here
unknown to him; that, perhaps, was in and in
another moment would upon him...
He to the point at once, rose from his seat and took his
cap.
“Porfiry Petrovitch,” he resolutely, though with considerable
irritation, “yesterday you a that I should come to you
for some inquiries” (he special on the word “inquiries”). “I
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 over, of you... know also,” he added,
feeling angry at once at having this and more at
his anger. “I am of it all, do you hear? and have long been. It’s
partly what me ill. In short,” he shouted, that the phrase
about his was still more out of place, “in short, examine
me or let me go, at once. And if you must me, do so in the
proper form! I will not allow you to do so otherwise, and so meanwhile,
good-bye, as we have nothing to keep us now.”
“Good heavens! What do you mean? What shall I question you about?”
Porfiry Petrovitch with a of tone, off
laughing. “Please don’t yourself,” he from place
to place and making Raskolnikov down. “There’s no hurry,
there’s no hurry, it’s all nonsense. Oh, no, I’m very you’ve come
to see me at last... I look upon you as a visitor. And as for
my laughter, it, Rodion Romanovitch. Rodion
Romanovitch? That is your name?... It’s my nerves, you me
so with your observation; I you, sometimes I shake with
laughter like an india-rubber for an hour at a time.... I’m
often of an attack of paralysis. Do down. Please do, or I
shall think you are angry...”
Raskolnikov did not speak; he listened, him, still frowning
angrily. He did down, but still his cap.
“I must tell you one thing about myself, my dear Rodion Romanovitch,”
Porfiry Petrovitch continued, moving about the room and again avoiding
his visitor’s eyes. “You see, I’m a bachelor, a man of no consequence
and not used to society; besides, I have nothing me, I’m set, I’m
running to and... and have you noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that in
our Petersburg circles, if two men meet who are not intimate, but
respect each other, like you and me, it takes them an hour before
they can a for conversation--they are dumb, they sit
opposite each other and awkward. Everyone has of
conversation, ladies for instance... people in high always have
their of conversation, _c’est de rigueur_, but people of the
middle like us, people that is, are always tongue-tied
and awkward. What is the of it? Whether it is the of public
interest, or it is we are so we don’t want to one
another, I don’t know. What do you think? Do put your cap, it
looks as if you were just going, it makes me uncomfortable... I am so
delighted...”
Raskolnikov put his cap and in with
a to the and empty of Porfiry
Petrovitch. “Does he want to my attention with his silly
babble?”
“I can’t offer you coffee here; but why not five minutes with a
friend?” Porfiry on, “and you know all these official
duties... don’t mind my up and down, it, my dear
fellow, I am very much of you, but is
absolutely for me. I’m always and so to be
moving about for five minutes... I from my life... I
always to join a gymnasium; they say that officials of all ranks,
even Privy Councillors, may be there; there you have
it, modern science... yes, yes.... But as for my here, inquiries
and all such formalities... you mentioned just now...
I you these are sometimes more for
the than for the interrogated.... You the observation
yourself just now very and wittily.” (Raskolnikov had no
observation of the kind.) “One into a muddle! A regular muddle! One
keeps on the same note, like a drum! There is to be a and
we shall be called by a different name, at least, he-he-he! And as for
our legal tradition, as you so called it, I agree
with you. Every on trial, the peasant, that
they by him with questions (as you so happily
put it) and then him a knock-down blow, he-he-he!--your felicitous
comparison, he-he! So you that I meant by ‘government
quarters’... he-he! You are an person. Come. I won’t go on! Ah,
by the way, yes! One word leads to another. You spoke of just
now, of the inquiry, you know. But what’s the use of formality?
In many cases it’s nonsense. Sometimes one has a and gets
a good more out of it. One can always on formality, allow
me to you. And after all, what it amount to? An examining
lawyer cannot be by at every step. The work of
investigation is, so to speak, a free art in its own way, he-he-he!”
Porfiry Petrovitch took a moment. He had on
uttering empty phrases, a and again
reverting to incoherence. He was almost about the room, moving
his little and quicker, looking at the ground, with his
right hand his back, while with his left making gesticulations
that were with his words. Raskolnikov
suddenly noticed that as he ran about the room he twice to stop
for a moment near the door, as though he were listening.
“Is he anything?”
“You are right about it,” Porfiry gaily, looking
with at Raskolnikov (which him and
instantly put him on his guard); “certainly right in laughing so
wittily at our legal forms, he-he! Some of these psychological
methods are and useless, if one adheres
too closely to the forms. Yes... I am talking of again. Well, if
I recognise, or more speaking, if I someone or other to
be a in any case to me... you’re reading for the law,
of course, Rodion Romanovitch?”
“Yes, I was...”
“Well, then it is a for you for the future--though don’t
suppose I should to you after the articles you publish
about crime! No, I make to it by way of fact, if I
took this man or that for a criminal, why, I ask, should I worry him
prematurely, though I had against him? In one case I may
be bound, for instance, to a man at once, but another may be in
quite a different position, you know, so why shouldn’t I let him walk
about the town a bit? he-he-he! But I see you don’t understand, so
I’ll give you a example. If I put him in prison too soon, I
may very likely give him, so to speak, support, he-he! You’re
laughing?”
Raskolnikov had no idea of laughing. He was with compressed
lips, his on Porfiry Petrovitch’s.
“Yet that is the case, with some especially, for men are so
different. You say ‘evidence’. Well, there may be evidence. But
evidence, you know, can be taken two ways. I am an examining
lawyer and a weak man, I it. I should like to make a proof, so
to say, clear. I should like to make a of evidence
such as twice two are four, it ought to be a direct, proof!
And if I him up too soon--even though I might be _he_
was the man, I should very likely be myself of the means of
getting against him. And how? By him, so to
speak, a position, I shall put him out of and set his
mind at rest, so that he will into his shell. They say that at
Sevastopol, soon after Alma, the people were in a terrible fright
that the enemy would attack openly and take Sevastopol at once. But when
they saw that the enemy a regular siege, they were delighted,
I am told and reassured, for the thing would on for two months at
least. You’re laughing, you don’t me again? Of course, you’re
right, too. You’re right, you’re right. These are special cases, I
admit. But you must this, my dear Rodion Romanovitch, the
general case, the case for which all legal and are intended,
for which they are calculated and in books, not at
all, for the that every case, every crime, for instance, so soon
as it actually occurs, at once a special case and
sometimes a case any that’s gone before. Very cases of that
sort sometimes occur. If I one man alone, if I don’t touch
him and don’t worry him, but let him know or at least every
moment that I know all about it and am him day and night, and
if he is in and terror, he’ll be to his
head. He’ll come of himself, or maybe do something which will make it as
plain as twice two are four--it’s delightful. It may be so with a simple
peasant, but with one of our sort, an man on a
certain side, it’s a certainty. For, my dear fellow, it’s a very
important to know on what a man is cultivated. And then
there are nerves, there are nerves, you have them! Why, they
are all sick, and irritable!... And then how they all suffer
from spleen! That I you is a regular gold-mine for us. And it’s
no to me, his about the town free! Let him, let him walk
about for a bit! I know well that I’ve him and that he
won’t me. Where he to, he-he? Abroad, perhaps? A
Pole will abroad, but not here, as I am watching
and have taken measures. Will he into the of the country
perhaps? But you know, live there, Russian peasants.
A modern man would prison to with such
strangers as our peasants. He-he! But that’s all nonsense, and on
the surface. It’s not that he has to to, he is
_psychologically_ unable to me, he-he! What an expression!
Through a law of nature he can’t me if he had to go.
Have you a a candle? That’s how he will keep
circling and me. Freedom will its attractions. He’ll
begin to brood, he’ll a himself, he’ll worry himself
to death! What’s more he will provide me with a mathematical proof--if I
only give him long interval.... And he’ll keep round
me, nearer and nearer and then--flop! He’ll into my
mouth and I’ll him, and that will be very amusing, he-he-he! You
don’t me?”
Raskolnikov no reply; he sat and motionless, still with
the same into Porfiry’s face.
“It’s a lesson,” he thought, cold. “This is the cat
playing with a mouse, like yesterday. He can’t be off his power
with no motive... me; he is too for that... he must
have another object. What is it? It’s all nonsense, my friend, you are
pretending, to me! You’ve no proofs and the man I saw had no
real existence. You want to make me my head, to work me up
beforehand and so to me. But you are wrong, you won’t do it! But
why give me such a hint? Is he on my nerves? No, my
friend, you are wrong, you won’t do it though you have some trap
for me... let us see what you have in store for me.”
And he himself to a terrible and unknown ordeal. At times
he to on Porfiry and him. This anger was what he
dreaded from the beginning. He that his were flecked
with foam, his was throbbing. But he was still not to
speak till the right moment. He that this was the best
policy in his position, of saying too much he would be
irritating his enemy by his and him into speaking too
freely. Anyhow, this was what he for.
“No, I see you don’t me, you think I am playing a joke
on you,” Porfiry again, more and more lively, chuckling
at every and again the room. “And to be sure you’re
right: God has me a that can none but ideas in
other people; a buffoon; but let me tell you, and I repeat it, excuse
an old man, my dear Rodion Romanovitch, you are a man still young, so to
say, in your and so you put above everything, like
all people. Playful and you and
that’s for all the world like the old Austrian _Hof-kriegsrath_, as
far as I can judge of matters, that is: on paper they’d beaten
Napoleon and taken him prisoner, and there in their study they it
all out in the fashion, but look you, General Mack surrendered
with all his army, he-he-he! I see, I see, Rodion Romanovitch, you are
laughing at a like me, taking examples out of history!
But I can’t help it, it’s my weakness. I am of science.
And I’m so of reading all histories. I’ve certainly
missed my proper career. I ought to have been in the army, upon my
word I ought. I shouldn’t have been a Napoleon, but I might have been a
major, he-he! Well, I’ll tell you the whole truth, my dear fellow, about
this _special case_, I mean: and a man’s temperament, my
dear sir, are and it’s how they sometimes
deceive the calculation! I--listen to an old man--am speaking
seriously, Rodion Romanovitch” (as he said this Porfiry Petrovitch, who
was five-and-thirty, actually to have old; even
his voice and he to together) “Moreover, I’m
a man... am I a man or not? What do you say? I I
really am: I tell you these for nothing and don’t a
reward for it, he-he! Well, to proceed, in my opinion is a splendid
thing, it is, so to say, an of nature and a of
life, and what it can play! So that it sometimes is hard for a
poor lawyer to know where he is, when he’s liable
to be away by his own fancy, too, for you know he is a man after
all! But the is saved by the criminal’s temperament, worse
luck for him! But people away by their own don’t think
of that ‘when they all obstacles,’ as you and cleverly
expressed it yesterday. He will lie--that is, the man who is a _special
case_, the incognito, and he will well, in the fashion;
you might think he would and the fruits of his wit, but at
the most interesting, the most moment he will faint. Of course
there may be and a room as well, but anyway! Anyway he’s
given us the idea! He incomparably, but he didn’t on his
temperament. That’s what him! Another time he will be carried
away by his into making fun of the man who him, he
will turn as it were on purpose to mislead, but his will
be _too natural_, too much like the thing, again he has us
an idea! Though his may be at first, he will think
differently next day if he is not a fool, and, of course, it is like
that at every step! He puts himself where he is not wanted,
speaks when he ought to keep silent, in all of
allegorical allusions, he-he! Comes and why didn’t you take me long
ago? he-he-he! And that can happen, you know, with the man,
the psychologist, the man. The everything
like a mirror! Gaze into it and what you see! But why are you so
pale, Rodion Romanovitch? Is the room stuffy? Shall I open the window?”
“Oh, don’t trouble, please,” Raskolnikov and he broke
into a laugh. “Please don’t trouble.”
Porfiry him, paused a moment and he too laughed.
Raskolnikov got up from the sofa, his hysterical
laughter.
“Porfiry Petrovitch,” he began, speaking and distinctly, though
his and he stand. “I see at last
that you actually me of that old woman and her sister
Lizaveta. Let me tell you for my part that I am of this. If you
find that you have a right to me legally, to me, then
prosecute me, me. But I will not let myself be at to my
face and worried...”
His trembled, his with and he not restrain
his voice.
“I won’t allow it!” he shouted, his on the table. “Do
you that, Porfiry Petrovitch? I won’t allow it.”
“Good heavens! What it mean?” Porfiry Petrovitch, apparently
quite frightened. “Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow, what is the
matter with you?”
“I won’t allow it,” Raskolnikov again.
“Hush, my dear man! They’ll and come in. Just think, what we
say to them?” Porfiry Petrovitch in horror, his face
close to Raskolnikov’s.
“I won’t allow it, I won’t allow it,” Raskolnikov mechanically,
but he too spoke in a whisper.
Porfiry and ran to open the window.
“Some fresh air! And you must have some water, my dear fellow. You’re
ill!” and he was to the door to call for some when he a
decanter of water in the corner. “Come, drink a little,” he whispered,
rushing up to him with the decanter. “It will be sure to do you good.”
Porfiry Petrovitch’s and were so natural that Raskolnikov
was and looking at him with wild curiosity. He did not take
the water, however.
“Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow, you’ll drive out of your
mind, I you, ach, ach! Have some water, do drink a little.”
He him to take the glass. Raskolnikov it to
his lips, but set it on the table again with disgust.
“Yes, you’ve had a little attack! You’ll your again,
my dear fellow,” Porfiry Petrovitch with sympathy,
though he still looked disconcerted. “Good heavens, you must
take more of yourself! Dmitri Prokofitch was here, came to see me
yesterday--I know, I know, I’ve a nasty, temper, but what they
made of it!... Good heavens, he came yesterday after you’d been. We
dined and he talked and talked away, and I only up my hands
in despair! Did he come from you? But do down, for mercy’s sake, sit
down!”
“No, not from me, but I he to you and why he went,”
Raskolnikov answered sharply.
“You knew?”
“I knew. What of it?”
“Why this, Rodion Romanovitch, that I know more than that about you;
I know about everything. I know how you _to take a flat_ at night
when it was dark and how you the and asked about the blood, so
that the and the did not know what to make of it. Yes, I
understand your of mind at that time... but you’ll drive yourself
mad like that, upon my word! You’ll your head! You’re full of
generous at the you’ve received, from destiny,
and then from the police officers, and so you from one thing to
another to them to speak out and make an end of it all, because
you are of all this and foolishness. That’s so, isn’t
it? I have how you feel, haven’t I? Only in that way you’ll
lose your and Razumihin’s, too; he’s too _good_ a man for such
a position, you must know that. You are and he is good and your
illness is for him... I’ll tell you about it when you are
more yourself.... But do down, for goodness’ sake. Please rest, you
look shocking, do down.”
Raskolnikov sat down; he no longer shivered, he was all over. In
amazement he with attention to Porfiry Petrovitch who
still as he looked after him with solicitude.
But he did not a word he said, though he a strange
inclination to believe. Porfiry’s about the had
utterly him. “How can it be, he about the then,”
he suddenly, “and he tells it me himself!”
“Yes, in our legal there was a case almost similar, a
case of psychology,” Porfiry on quickly. “A man to
murder and how he it up! It was a regular hallucination; he brought
forward facts, he upon and why? He had been partly, but
only partly, the of a and when he that
he had the the opportunity, he into dejection, it
got on his mind and his brain, he and he
persuaded himself that he was the murderer. But at last the High Court
of Appeal into it and the was and put under
proper care. Thanks to the Court of Appeal! Tut-tut-tut! Why, my dear
fellow, you may drive into if you have the impulse
to work upon your nerves, to go at night and about
blood! I’ve all this in my practice. A man
is sometimes to jump out of a window or from a belfry. Just the
same with bell-ringing.... It’s all illness, Rodion Romanovitch! You
have to neglect your illness. You should an experienced
doctor, what’s the good of that fellow? You are lightheaded! You
were when you did all this!”
For a moment Raskolnikov going round.
“Is it possible, is it possible,” through his mind, “that he is
still lying? He can’t be, he can’t be.” He rejected that idea, feeling
to what a of it might drive him, that that fury
might drive him mad.
“I was not delirious. I what I was doing,” he cried, straining
every to Porfiry’s game, “I was myself, do you
hear?”
“Yes, I and understand. You said yesterday you were not delirious,
you were particularly about it! I all you can tell
me! A-ach!... Listen, Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow. If you were
actually a criminal, or were somehow mixed up in this business,
would you that you were not but in full possession
of your faculties? And so and persistently? Would it be
possible? Quite impossible, to my thinking. If you had anything on
your conscience, you ought to that you were delirious.
That’s so, isn’t it?”
There was a note of in this inquiry. Raskolnikov on
the sofa as Porfiry over him and in at
him.
“Another thing about Razumihin--you ought to have said that he
came of his own accord, to have your part in it! But you don’t
conceal it! You on his at your instigation.”
Raskolnikov had not done so. A his back.
“You keep telling lies,” he said slowly and weakly, his lips
into a smile, “you are trying again to that you know all
my game, that you know all I shall say beforehand,” he said, conscious
himself that he was not his as he ought. “You want to
frighten me... or you are laughing at me...”
He still at him as he said this and again there was a light of
intense in his eyes.
“You keep lying,” he said. “You know perfectly well that the best
policy for the is to tell the truth as nearly as possible... to
conceal as little as possible. I don’t you!”
“What a person you are!” Porfiry tittered, “there’s no catching
you; you’ve a perfect monomania. So you don’t me? But still you
do me, you a quarter; I’ll soon make you the
whole, I have a for you and wish you
good.”
Raskolnikov’s trembled.
“Yes, I do,” on Porfiry, Raskolnikov’s arm genially, “you
must take of your illness. Besides, your mother and sister are here
now; you must think of them. You must and them and you do
nothing but them...”
“What has that to do with you? How do you know it? What is it of
yours? You are watch on me and want to let me know it?”
“Good heavens! Why, I learnt it all from you yourself! You don’t
notice that in your you tell me and others everything. From
Razumihin, too, I learnt a number of yesterday. No,
you me, but I must tell you that, for all your wit, your
suspiciousness makes you the common-sense view of things. To return
to bell-ringing, for instance. I, an lawyer, have a
precious thing like that, a (for it is a having),
and you see nothing in it! Why, if I had the of you,
should I have like that? No, I should have your
suspicions and not let you see I of that fact, should have diverted
your attention and have you a knock-down (your
expression) saying: ‘And what were you doing, sir, pray, at ten or
nearly eleven at the woman’s and why did you ring the bell
and why did you ask about blood? And why did you the porters
to go with you to the police station, to the lieutenant?’ That’s how
I ought to have if I had a of of you. I ought to
have taken your in form, your and perhaps
have you, too... so I have no of you, since I have
not done that! But you can’t look at it and you see nothing, I
say again.”
Raskolnikov started so that Porfiry Petrovitch not fail to
perceive it.
“You are all the while,” he cried, “I don’t know your object,
but you are lying. You did not speak like that just now and I cannot be
mistaken!”
“I am lying?” Porfiry repeated, incensed, but preserving
a good-humoured and face, as though he were not in the least
concerned at Raskolnikov’s opinion of him. “I am lying... but how did
I you just now, I, the lawyer? Prompting you and giving
you every means for your defence; illness, I said, delirium, injury,
melancholy and the police officers and all the of it? Ah! He-he-he!
Though, indeed, all those means of are not very
reliable and cut ways: illness, delirium, I don’t remember--that’s
all right, but why, my good sir, in your and in your delirium
were you by just those and not by any others? There
may have been others, eh? He-he-he!”
Raskolnikov looked and at him.
“Briefly,” he said and imperiously, to his and in so
doing pushing Porfiry a little, “briefly, I want to know, do you
acknowledge me perfectly free from or not? Tell me, Porfiry
Petrovitch, tell me once for all and make haste!”
“What a I’m having with you!” Porfiry with a perfectly
good-humoured, and face. “And why do you want to know, why
do you want to know so much, since they haven’t to worry you? Why,
you are like a child for matches! And why are you so uneasy? Why
do you upon us, eh? He-he-he!”
“I repeat,” Raskolnikov furiously, “that I can’t put up with it!”
“With what? Uncertainty?” Porfiry.
“Don’t at me! I won’t have it! I tell you I won’t have it. I can’t
and I won’t, do you hear, do you hear?” he shouted, his fist
down on the table again.
“Hush! Hush! They’ll overhear! I you seriously, take of
yourself. I am not joking,” Porfiry whispered, but this time there was
not the look of old good nature and in his face. Now
he was peremptory, stern, and for once all
mystification.
But this was only for an instant. Raskolnikov, bewildered, fell
into frenzy, but, to say, he again the to
speak quietly, though he was in a perfect of fury.
“I will not allow myself to be tortured,” he whispered, instantly
recognising with that he not help the and
driven to by the thought. “Arrest me, search me, but
kindly act in and don’t play with me! Don’t dare!”
“Don’t worry about the form,” Porfiry with the same sly
smile, as it were, with over Raskolnikov. “I invited
you to see me in a way.”
“I don’t want your and I on it! Do you hear? And, here,
I take my cap and go. What will you say now if you to me?”
He took up his cap and to the door.
“And won’t you see my little surprise?” Porfiry, again taking
him by the arm and stopping him at the door.
He to more and good-humoured which maddened
Raskolnikov.
“What surprise?” he asked, still and looking at Porfiry in
alarm.
“My little surprise, it’s there the door, he-he-he!”
(He pointed to the locked door.) “I locked him in that he should not
escape.”
“What is it? Where? What?...”
Raskolnikov walked to the door and would have opened it, but it was
locked.
“It’s locked, here is the key!”
And he a key out of his pocket.
“You are lying,” Raskolnikov without restraint, “you lie, you
damned punchinello!” and he at Porfiry who to the other
door, not at all alarmed.
“I it all! You are and so that I may betray
myself to you...”
“Why, you not any further, my dear Rodion
Romanovitch. You are in a passion. Don’t shout, I shall call the
clerks.”
“You are lying! Call the clerks! You I was and to work
me into a to make me myself, that was your object! Produce
your facts! I it all. You’ve no evidence, you have only
wretched like Zametov’s! You my character, you
wanted to drive me to and then to me with and
deputies.... Are you waiting for them? eh! What are you waiting for?
Where are they? Produce them?”
“Why deputies, my good man? What people will imagine! And to do
so would not be acting in as you say, you don’t know the business,
my dear fellow.... And there’s no form, as you see,” Porfiry
muttered, at the door through which a noise be heard.
“Ah, they’re coming,” Raskolnikov. “You’ve sent for them! You
expected them! Well, produce them all: your deputies, your witnesses,
what you like!... I am ready!”
But at this moment a occurred, something so unexpected
that neither Raskolnikov Porfiry Petrovitch have looked for
such a to their interview.
