Thus, we know for certain that throughout those two weeks the prince spent whole days and evenings with Nastasya Filippovna; that she took him with her on walks, to the bandstand; that he drove about with her each day in her barouche; that he would begin to worry about her if for but an hour he did not see her (so that, by all the signs, he loved her sincerely); that he listened to her with a quiet and modest smile, whatever it was she talked to him about, for hours on end, and saying hardly anything himself. But we also know that during those same days, several times and even many times, he would suddenly set off for the Yepanchins, not trying to conceal this from Nastasya Filippovna, which almost drove her to despair. We know that at the Yepanchins, while they remained in Pavlovsk, he was not received, and was persistently refused an interview with Aglaya Ivanovna; that he would go away without saying a word, and on the following day go to see them again, as if he had completely forgotten the refusal of the day before, and, of course, obtain a fresh refusal. We also know that an hour after Aglaya Ivanovna ran out of Nastasya Filippovna’s house, perhaps even under an hour, the prince was already at the Yepanchins‘, of course in the certainty of finding Aglaya there, and that his appearance at the Yepanchins’ then produced an exceeding perturbation a
nd fright in the house, because Aglaya had not yet returned and it was only from that they first heard that she had gone with him to see Nastasya Filippovna. It was related that Lizaveta Prokofyevna, the daughters and even Prince Shch. had at the time treated the prince with exceeding harshness and hostility, and that they had also then, in heated expressions, denied him acquaintance and friendship, especially when Varvara Ardalionovna suddenly presented herself to Lizaveta Prokofyevna and announced that Aglaya Ivanovna had already been in her house for about an hour, in a dreadful state, and seemed not to want to go home. This last news shocked Lizaveta Prokofyevna most of all, and was quite true: emerging from Nastasya Filippovna’s, Aglaya really would rather have died than appear now in front of her people at home, and therefore rushed to see Nina Alexandrovna. As for Varvara Ardalionovna, she at once, for her part, found it necessary to inform Lizaveta Prokofyevna of all this, without delay. Both mother and daughters, they all at once went rushing to Nina Alexandrovna, followed by the paterfamilias himself, Ivan Fyodorovich, who had just come home; Prince Lev Nikolayevich also dragged himself along after them, in spite of his expulsion and their harsh words; but, on Varvara Ardalionovna’s instructions, he was not admitted to Aglaya there, either. The end of the matter was, however, that when Aglaya saw her mother and sisters weeping over her and not reproaching her at all, she rushed into their embraces and at once returned home with them. It was related, though the rumours were not completely accurate that here too Gavrila Ardalionovich had been dreadfully unlucky; that, having seized the occasion, when Varvara Ardalionovna ran off to see Lizaveta Prokofyevna, he, alone with Aglaya, had decided to start telling her of his love; that, listening to him, Aglaya, in spite of all her anguish and tears, suddenly burst out laughing and put to him a strange question: would he, as proof of his love, burn his finger on the candle forthwith? Gavrila Ardalionovich, it is said, was dumbfounded by the proposal and was so taken aback and expressed such bewilderment on his face that Aglaya burst out laughing at him, almost in hysterics, and fled from him upstairs to Nina Alexandrovna, where her parents found her. This anecdote reached the prince through Ippolit, the following day. Now bedridden, Ippolit purposely sent for the prince in order to convey this news to him. How this rumour reached Ippolit, we do not know, but when the prince heard about the candle and the finger, he laughed so much that he even surprised Ippolit; then he suddenly began to tremble, and dissolved in tears ... In general during those days he was greatly anxious and uncommonly perturbed, in a vague and tormented way. Ippolit affirmed straight out that he did not consider him in his right mind; but this could not yet by any means be said affirmatively.
Presenting all these facts and refusing to explain them, we do not at all wish to justify our hero in the eyes of our readers. Not only that, but we are also quite prepared to share the indignation he aroused even in his friends. Even Vera Lebedeva was indignant with him for some time; even Ko
lya was indignant; even Keller was indignant, until he was chosen as best man, not to mention Lebedev, who even began to intrigue against the prince, also out of indignation, and even a very sincere one. But of this we shall speak later. In general, we completely and in the highest degree sympathize with several emphatic and even psychologically profound comments by Yevgeny Pavlovich, which he expressed to the prince directly and without ceremony in friendly conversation, on the sixth or seventh day after the events at Nastasya Filippovna’s. We should observe, incidentally, that not only the Yepanchins themselves but all who belonged directly or indirectly to the house of the Yepanchins found it necessary to completely sever all relations with the prince. Prince Shch., for example, even turned away when he met the prince, and did not bow to him. But Yevgeny Pavlovich was not afraid of compromising himself by visiting the prince, in spite of the fact that he had again begun to spend every day at the Yepanchins and was even received with visibly increased cordiality. He came to see the prince the very next day after the departure of all the Yepanchins from Pavlovsk. As he entered, he already knew of all the rumours that had spread among the public, and had even, perhaps, contributed to this himself. The prince was terribly pleased to see him, and at once began to talk about the Yepanchins; such an open-hearted and direct beginning made Yevgeny Pavlovich feel completely unconstrained, and so he proceeded to the matter in hand without prevarication.
The prince was not yet aware that the Yepanchins had left; he was shocked, turned pale; but a moment later he shook his head in embarrassment and reflection, and admitted that ‘it was bound to be like that’; then he swiftly inquired: ‘Where did they go?’
Yevgeny Pavlovich, meanwhile, observed him fixedly, and all this, the swiftness of the questions, their simple-hearted nature, the embarrassment and at the same time a kind of strange candour, the frankness and the excitement - it all surprised him not a little. However, he told the prince everything amiably and in detail: there was much that the prince did not yet know, and this was the first bulletin from the house. He confirmed that Aglaya really was ill and had not slept for three nights in a row, in a fever; that now she felt better and was out of all danger, but was in a nervous, hysterical condition ... ‘It’s just as well that there is perfect peace in the house! They are trying not to refer to the past even among themselves, not only in Aglaya’s presence. The parents have already discussed a trip abroad, in the autumn, immediately after Adelaida’s wedding; Aglaya received the first mention of that without saying anything.’ He, Yevgeny Pavlovich, might also perhaps go abroad. Even Prince Shch. might go for a month or two, with Adelaida, if business allowed. The general himself would stay put. They had all now moved to Kolmino, their estate, some twenty versts from St Petersburg, where there was a spacious manor house. Belokonskaya had not yet gone to Moscow and was even remaining on purpose. Lizaveta Prokofyevna had strongly insisted that it was not possib
le to stay in Pavlovsk after all that had taken place; he, Yevgeny Pavlovich, informed her each day about the rumours that were passing about the town. They had also not considered it possible to move to the dacha on Yelagin Island.
‘Well, and really,’ added Yevgeny Pavlovich, ‘you must admit, how could they have gone ... especially knowing what was happening here in your house, hour by hour, Prince, and after your daily visits
there,
in spite of their refusals ...’
‘Yes, yes, yes, you are right, I wanted to see Aglaya Ivanovna ...’ the prince began to shake his head again.
‘Oh, dear Prince,’ Yevgeny Pavlovich suddenly exclaimed with animation and sadness, ‘how could you have allowed ... all that took place then? Of course, of course, it was all so unexpected for you ... I can see that you must have been bewildered and ... could not have stopped the crazy girl, it was beyond your powers! But even so you must have understood the degree to which that girl had strong and serious ... feelings towards you. She did not want to share with another, and you ... and you could abandon and break such a treasure!’
‘Yes, yes, you are right; yes, I am to blame,’ the prince began again in dreadful anguish, ‘and you know: I mean, only she, only Aglaya looked on Nastasya Filippovna in that way ... I mean, no one else did.’
‘But that is just what is so outrageous, that there was nothing serious in it!’ exclaimed Yevgeny Pavlovich, decidedly carried away. ‘Forgive me, Prince, but ... I ... I have thought about this, Prince; I have thought it over a great deal; I know everything that took place earlier, I know everything that happened six months ago, and - none of it was serious! It was all just a cerebral infatuation, a picture, a fantasy, a vapour, and only the frightened jealousy of a completely inexperienced girl could have taken it for something serious!’
Here Yevgeny Pavlovich, now completely without ceremony, gave vent to all his indignation. Rationally and clearly and, we repeat, even in extreme psychological detail, he unfolded before the prince a picture of all the latter’s former relations with Nastasya Filippovna. Yevgeny Pavlovich always had a gift for words; but now he even attained eloquence. ‘Right from the start,’ he proclaimed, ‘you began with a lie; what began with a lie was bound also to end with a lie; that is a law of nature. I do not agree, and am even indignant, when anyone - oh, whoever it may be - calls you an idiot; you are too intelligent for such an appellation; but you are strange enough not to be like everyone else, you will admit. I have decided that the foundation of all that has taken place was formed, in the first instance, by your, so to speak, inborn inexperience (observe that word, Prince: “inborn”), and then by your extraordinary open-heartedness; further, by a phenomenal absence of a sense of proportion (something you yourself have admitted on several occasions) - and, lastly, by an enormous, rushing mass of cerebral convictions which you, with all your extraordin
ary honesty, have persisted in taking for genuine, natural and spontaneous convictions! You will agree, Prince, that in your relations with Nastasya Filippovna there was from the very outset something
conventionally democratic
(I express myself in abbreviated form), so to speak, a fascination with the “woman question” (to express myself even more briefly). I mean, I know in detail of that strange and scandalous scene that took place at Nastasya Filippovna’s, when Rogozhin brought his money. If you like, I will take you apart on my fingertips, will show you yourself as in a mirror, in such detail do I know what it was all about and why it turned out as it did! You, a young man in Switzerland, thirsted for the motherland, yearned for Russia as a land unknown but promised; read many books about Russia, books that were excellent, perhaps, but for you harmful; you made your appearance in the first flush of a thirst for activity, so to speak, threw yourself into activity! And then, that very same day, you were told the sad and heartrending story of an insulted woman - it was told to you, a knight, a virgin — and about a woman! That same day you saw this woman; you were entranced by her beauty, a fantastic, demonic beauty (I mean, I agree she’s a beauty). Add to this your nerves, add your epilepsy, add our St Petersburg thaw, which shakes the nerves; add the whole of that day, in a city unknown to you and almost fantastic for you, a day of encounters and scenes, a day of unexpected acquaintances, a day of the most unexpected reality, a day of the three Yepanchin beauties, and among them Aglaya; add tiredness, vertigo, add Nastasya Filippovna’s drawing room and the tone of that drawing room, and ... what else could you have expected of yourself at the moment, what do you suppose?’
‘Yes, yes; yes, yes,’ the prince shook his head, beginning to blush, ‘yes, after all, that is almost how it was; and you know, I really had hardly slept the previous night, on the train, and all the night before that, and I was very disoriented ...’
‘Well yes, of course, what else am I driving at?’ Yevgeny Pavlovich continued, growing heated. ‘It is clear that you, so to speak, in the intoxication of your enthusiasm, rushed at the opportunity of publicly declaring the magnanimous thought that you, an ancestral prince and a man of purity, did not consider dishonourable a woman who had been disgraced not through her own fault but through the fault of a disgusting high society profligate. Oh, Lord, but how understandable that is! But that is not the point, dear Prince, the point is whether there was truth there, whether there was truth in your emotion, whether there was nature there or just a cerebral enthusiasm? What do you suppose: the woman in the temple, a woman of just the same kind, was forgiven, but I mean, was it said to her that she had done well, was worthy of all kinds of honour and respect? Did your own common sense not suggest to you, after three months, what was really at stake? And even assuming that she is innocent now — I shall not insist, because I do not want to - but could all her adventures ever just
ify such intolerable, devilish pride, such shameless, such greedy egoism on her part? Forgive me, Prince, I’m getting carried away, but ...’
‘Yes, that may all be true: perhaps you are indeed right ...’ the prince began to mutter again. ‘She is indeed very given to anger, and you’re right, of course, but ...’
‘She’s worthy of compassion? Is that what you mean, my good Prince? But for the sake of compassion and for the sake of her satisfaction was it justifiable to disgrace another girl, one who was high-minded and pure, to degrade her in those arrogant, those hate-filled eyes? But to what lengths will compassion take you after that? I mean, it’s an incredible exaggeration! And was it justifiable, since you loved the girl, to degrade her like that in front of her rival, to turn your back on her for the sake of the other, in front of the other’s eyes, after you’d made her an honest proposal? ... And I mean, you did make her a proposal, you made it to her in front of her parents and her sisters! After that, are you an honourable man, Prince, allow me to ask you? And ... did you not deceive the divine girl, assuring her that you loved her?’