Read Online Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky - Free Book Online Page B

yawning languidly but with an air of importance. It was evident that Marmeladov had long been a familiar figure here. Indeed, he had probably acquired his penchant for flowery rhetoric as a consequence of being used to frequent boozy conversations with strangers of various types. This habit becomes a necessity with some drinkers, particularly those who are given rough treatment at home and whose lives are made a misery. It is for this reason that in the company of other drinkers they invariably seem to be doing all they can to justify themselves, and if possible even to gain respect.
    ‘Hey, funny man!’ the owner said, loudly. ‘Why don't you do any work, why don't you do any serving, if you're a civil servant?’
    ‘You ask why I am not currently engaged in the service, dear sir?’ Marmeladov said quickly, addressing himself exclusively to Raskolnikov, as though it were the latter who had asked the question. ‘You ask me that? Do you think my reptilian existence doesn't make my heart weep? A month ago, when Mr Lebezyatnikov unmercifully beat my lady-wife and I simply lay there drunk, don't you think I suffered? Permit me to inquire, young man, whether you have ever had occasion to… er… well, to ask for a loan of some money when it's hopeless?’
    ‘Yes, I have… but what do you mean “when it's hopeless”?’
    ‘What I mean, sir, is when it's completely hopeless, when you know beforehand that nothing will come of it. For example, you know in advance with absolute certainty that this man, this most well-intentioned and thoroughly useful citizen, will on no account lend you money, for why, I ask you, should he? I mean, he knows I won't pay it back to him. Out of compassion? But only the other day Mr Lebezyatnikov, 3 who follows the latest ideas, was explaining that the science of our day has actually declared compassion a social evil, and that this notion is already being put into practice in England, where they have political economy. Why, I ask you, should he lend me anything? And yet, knowing beforehand that he won't, you none the less set off down the high road and…’
    ‘But why go to him?’ Raskolnikov added.
    ‘But if there is no one, if there is nowhere left to go? I mean, everyone must have at least somewhere to go. For there comes a time in every man's life when he simply must have somewhere he can go! When my only daughter went on the yellow card 4 for the first time, I went then too… (for my daughter lives by the yellow card, sir…)’ he added in parenthesis, looking at the young man with a certain uneasiness. ‘No matter, my dear sir, no matter!’ he hastened to add, evidently quite unruffled, as both of the boys snorted with laughter, and even the owner smiled. ‘No matter! Such wagging of heads does not confound me, for it is all well known to everyone already, and that which was hid is now revealed; 5 indeed, my attitude to all that now is one not of contempt but of resignation. So be it! So be it! “Behold the man!” Permit me to ask you, young man, whether you can… But no, I must put it more strongly, more figuratively: not can you, but dare you, as you look upon me in this hour, say beyond all shadow of a doubt that I am not a swine?’
    The young man said not a word in reply.
    ‘Well, sir,’ the orator continued, in a tone of massive assurance which even had an increased air of dignity about it this time, after he had waited once more for the sniggering that had ensued in the room to die down. ‘Well, sir, so be it, I am a swine, but she is a lady! I may possess bestial form, but Katerina Ivanovna, my lady-wife, is a person of education and a field-officer's daughter. So be it, so be it, I am a blackguard, but she has been filled by her upbringing with both lofty spirit and ennobled feelings. And yet… oh, if she would only take pity on me! Oh my dear sir, my dear respected sir, I mean, every man must have at least one place where people take pity on him! Even though