Chapter 20 Section five
Raskolnikov had already entered the room.He entered with such an air that he seemed to be trying to keep himself from laughing out loud.The embarrassing Razumihin followed him in, looking very despondent, raised eyebrows, and flushed like a peony.He is tall, thin and clumsy.At this moment his face and whole posture were really ridiculous, which proved that Raskolnikov was not without reason.Without waiting for an introduction, Raskolnikov bowed to his master, who was standing in the middle of the room, looking at them questioningly, and extended his hand to shake his hand, evidently trying to suppress his joy, trying to say at least a few words. Let me introduce.But he managed to look serious and muttered something—and suddenly, as if involuntarily, he glanced at Razumihin again, and by then he could not help laughing: suppressed laughter It broke out more and more irresistibly, so he suppressed it even more.Razumihin's heart flared up at this "from the bottom of his heart" laughter, which added to the scene an atmosphere of the most sincere joy, mostly of spontaneity.Razumihin seems to be deliberately strengthening this atmosphere.
"Bah, hell!" he cried, waving his hand.The hand happened to hit the little round table on which a glass of empty tea was placed, and everything flew up and smashed to pieces.
"Gentlemen, why break the chair? The loss is the state's," exclaimed Porfiry Petrovitch cheerfully.
It happened like this: Raskolnikov was still laughing, forgetting that his hand was being held by his master; but he knew how to measure it, and waited for the moment to pass quickly and naturally.Razumihin, feeling ashamed because he had knocked over the table and smashed the glass, looked at the broken glass with a sad face, spat, turned hastily, and went to the window, with his back to everyone. Standing there, raised eyebrows, looking out the window angrily, but he couldn't see anything.Porfiry Petrovitch couldn't help laughing, he was about to laugh again, but obviously he was waiting for an explanation.Zametov was sitting on a chair in a corner, and when he saw two guests coming in, he got up and stood waiting, grinning; but he watched the scene with bewilderment, even suspicion and looked at Raskolnikov coyly.Unexpectedly, Zametov would be here, and Raskolnikov was taken aback, feeling a pang of displeasure.
"This has to be considered!" he thought to himself.
"Excuse me," he began, sheepishly. "Raskolnikov..."
"Well, I'm glad, glad to have you here... Why, he doesn't want to greet?" Porfiry Petrovich nodded to Razumihin.
"God knows, I don't know why he got mad at me. I just told him on the way that he was like Romeo, and... and I gave proof, and I don't think there was any other reason."
"Pig!" Razumihin replied without turning his head.
"There must be a great reason to be so angry for a word," Porfiry laughed loudly.
"Oh, you! Detective! . . . Fuck you!" said Razumihin without hesitation, and suddenly burst out laughing, as if nothing had happened, and went to Porfiry. Petrovitch went forward.
"That's enough! We're all fools; let's get down to business: this is my friend, Rodion Romanovitch Raskolnikov. First, he's known for a long time, and has long wanted to come and ask him; second, there's a I want to discuss small things with you. Hey! Zametov, why are you here? Are you acquainted? Are you old friends for many years?"
"What's going on here!" thought Raskolnikov in a panic.
Zametov seemed ashamed, but not terribly embarrassed.
"I met you at your place yesterday," he said casually.
"It saves me trouble; Porfiry tried so hard to introduce him to you last week, but you hooked up behind my back. . . Where do you keep your tobacco?"
Porfiry Petrovich was at home in a dressing-gown, clean underwear, and slippers.This man was about thirty-five years old, under middle height, plump, even potbellied, clean-shaven, without mustaches or sideburns, with thick, short-cropped hair and a big, round head. The back of the head is particularly prominent.His puffy, round face with a slightly turned-up nose was somewhat sickly, sallow, but full of energy, and even showed a mocking look.If it weren't for the influence of the eyes, it would even be a kind face, the eyes gleaming wetly and faintly, concealed by the pale eyelashes that blinked from time to time, as if winking at someone.His eyes were so disproportionate to the even effeminate general figure that they appeared to be more serious than might be guessed at first glance.
As soon as Porfiry Petrovich heard that the visitor had a "little matter" to discuss with him, he immediately offered the visitor a seat on the sofa.He himself sat on the other side of the sofa, looked at the guest with fixed eyes, and waited impatiently for him to explain the reason.He waited so intently and so earnestly that it was immediately embarrassing and embarrassing, especially if you were a stranger to him; if.But Raskolnikov explained the matter clearly and precisely in a few short and fluent words, and he was very satisfied and even looked at Porfiry quite carefully.Porfiry Petrovich, too, had been watching him intently.Razumihin sat at the opposite table, listened eagerly and impatiently to his explanations, and continued and slightly impolitely shifted his eyes from one person to another and from that person to another. The body moved onto the person.
"Fool!" Raskolnikov cursed secretly.
"You must report to the police," Porfiry replied solemnly. "Say that you have learned of such a case, that is to say, of this murder, and you also request to inform the investigator of the case that you have these few things in your possession and you want to redeem them... or . . . but they will let you register."
"The thing is this: now," Raskolnikov tried to put on a face of embarrassment, "I have no money with me... I can't even redeem these little things... You know, now I just want Let me declare that these things belong to me, and when I have money..."
"That's all right," answered Porfiry Petrovitch, listening impassively to his explanation of the state of affairs. "However, if you want, you can also write to me directly, and write in the same way: After learning about the case, I am here to declare that these things belong to me, and I request..."
"Is this written on ordinary paper?" asked Raskolnikov hastily, turning again to the economic aspect of the matter.
"Oh, just write it on the most ordinary paper!" Porfiry Petrovitch suddenly narrowed his eyes, and looked at him with an air of sarcasm, as if winking at him.Perhaps this was just an illusion of Raskolnikov, since it lasted only a moment.At least there have been such cases.Raskolnikov could have sworn he winked at him, who knows why.
"He knows!" The thought flashed through his mind like lightning.
"Excuse me for troubling you with such trifles," he went on, a little bewildered. "These things of mine are only worth five rubles, but they are very dear to me, in memory of the person who gave them to me. Frankly, I was surprised to hear the news..."
"No wonder you jumped up when I told Zossimov yesterday that Porfiry was interrogating the prisoners," Razumihin interrupted, obviously deliberately.
It's embarrassing.Raskolnikov could bear it no longer, and gave him a venomous stare from his black eyes, which gleamed with anger, but immediately suppressed his excitement.
"You're laughing at me, old man?" he said to him slyly, with mock indignation. "I admit that perhaps I care too much for things that seem useless to you; but don't make me a selfish person or a miser for that reason. These two little things seem to me It may not be useless. I told you just now that this cheap silver watch is the only thing my father has. You can laugh at me, but my mother has come to see me." Alfieri turned away. "If she knew," he turned quickly to Razumihin, trying to make his voice tremble. "This watch is lost, and I can swear she will be devastated! Woman!"
"That's not the case at all! I didn't mean that at all! I never meant that!" cried Razumihin, displeased.
"Is it good to say that? Is it natural or unnatural? Are you exaggerating?" Raskolnikov asked himself with his heart pounding. "Why did I say: 'A woman'?"
"Has the commandant come to see you?" asked Porfiry Petrovitch, not knowing why.
"yes."
"When did she come?"
"last night."
Porfiry fell silent, as if thinking.
"You will never lose those things," he went on calmly and coldly. "You know, I've been waiting for you here for a long time."
As if nothing had happened, he handed the ashtray with concern to Razumihin who was flicking cigarette ashes on the carpet.Raskolnikov was taken aback for a moment, but Porfiry didn't seem to notice that he was still concerned about Razumihin's ashes.
"What? You waited for him! Did you know that he had also mortgaged something there?" Razumihin cried.
Porfiry Petrovitch addressed Raskolnikov directly.
"Two things of yours, a ring and a watch, are bonded to her in a piece of paper. Your name is clearly written in pencil on the paper, and it is written that she has received the two bonds from you. The month and day of the product..."
"Why are you so careful?..." Raskolnikov smiled inappropriately, trying to look him in the face; but he couldn't bear it, and suddenly added: "I just said that because Because there are probably a lot of depositors... It must be difficult for you to remember all their names... But on the contrary, you remember their names so clearly, and... and..."
"Fool! Useless stuff! What am I talking about?"
"Now all the depositors have been cleared up. You are the only one who did not come to register." Porfiry replied with a slight sense of sarcasm.
"Because I'm not in good health."
"I have heard that you are ill. I have even heard that you are in a bad mood. You look pale now?"
"Not at all pale... On the contrary, my health has completely recovered!" Raskolnikov said suddenly, with a sudden change of tone, rudely, angrily, and without restraint.He was so angry that he couldn't suppress it anymore. "But when I get angry, I'll reveal the secret!" The thought flashed through his mind again. "Why are they torturing me?..."
"He's not quite back to health yet!" Razumihin added hastily. "He's talking nonsense! Until yesterday he was almost delirious and talking nonsense... Believe me, Porfiry, he was barely standing still. We, Zossimov and I, turned our backs yesterday— He just put on his clothes and slipped away quietly, and romped around till midnight somewhere. I tell you, it was because he was completely out of his wits, can you imagine such a thing! How strange!"
"Is it really all delirious? Please tell me!" Porfiry shook his head like a country woman.
"Oh, nonsense! Don't believe his nonsense! You wouldn't believe me if I hadn't told it!" said Raskolnikov rashly, annoyed.But Porfiry Petrovich did not seem to catch these strange words.
"If you hadn't been out of your mind, how could you have slipped away?" Razumihin suddenly said emotionally. "Why did you slip away? What were you going to do? . . . Why did you slip away quietly? Were you sane then? Now that the danger is over, I can tell you straight!"
"They annoyed me very much yesterday," said Raskolnikov, suddenly turning to Porfiry, with a cheeky, defiant smile. "I avoided them and rented a room so they wouldn't find me. I took a lot of money with me. Mr. Zametov saw the money. Yesterday, Mr. Zametov, I was conscious or unconscious ? Please resolve this dispute."
It seemed at this moment that he really wanted to strangle Zametov.He hated his stares and his silence so much.
"It seems to me that what you say is very reasonable and tactful, but you are too angry," said Zametov coldly.
"Nikodim Fomitch told me today," put in Porfiry Petrovitch. "He met you very late yesterday, at the home of an official who was trampled to death by a horse..."
"Take this official!" Razumihin hastily answered. "Didn't you behave like a madman in that official's house? You gave the widow what little money you had to buy a coffin! Yes, you want to help her—you can give her fifteen rubles or Twenty rubles, you should have kept at least three rubles for yourself, but you were generous enough to give her all twenty-five rubles!"
"Perhaps I have found a treasury somewhere, don't you know? I was generous yesterday... Mr. Zametov knows, I have found a treasury! . . . Please forgive me!" He turned to Porfi said, his lips quivering. "For these little things, we interrupted you for half an hour, do you find it annoying?"
"Where are you, very welcome, very welcome! I wish you could know how much you interest me! Look, listen, it's very interesting... To be honest, I'm glad you've registered at last..."
"Give me a cup of tea, please! My throat is dry!" cried Razumihin.
"Great idea! Maybe we'll all drink with you. How about . . . some hard stuff first, and then tea?"
"don't want!"
Porfiry Petrovitch went out and ordered tea.
Ideas whirled like a whirlwind in Raskolnikov's head.He was very annoyed.
"The most disgusting thing is that they don't even hide it, they don't have manners! If you don't know me at all, then why do you talk about me to Nikodim Fomitch? So they look like a pack of dogs , blatantly spying on me! They blatantly slandered me!" He trembled with rage. "Well, come on straight, don't tease me like a cat with a mouse. It's rude, Porfiry Petrovich, maybe I won't! . . . I'll get up and say it before you Honestly; you will see how much I despise you!..." He finally breathed a sigh of relief. "What if it's just my imagination? What if it's a hallucination? What if I've misunderstood? Offended by inexperience? What if I don't deserve my lowly role? Maybe it's all without intent What? They were all talking casually, but there was a meaning in those words...these words could be said often, but there was a meaning in them. Why did he say bluntly that I've been to her? Myotov added, saying what I said so cleverly? Why does he speak in such a tone? Yes ... such a tone ... Razumihin is sitting here, why is he not aware of it at all? The world The rare fool is always insensitive! The fever is coming again!... Did Porfiry wink at me just now? Probably my imagination; what was he blinking for? Are they trying to stimulate my nerves, or are they teasing me? Or , it's all a mirage, or they all know it!... Even Zametov is rude... Was Zametov rude? Zametov changed his mind overnight. I also expected him to change He's here, as at home, but I'm here for the first time. Porfiry doesn't see him as a guest, and sits with his back to him. They're in league! They must be in league because of me! !They must have been talking about me before we got here! . . . do they know about the rent? Hope soon! . . . He didn't listen when I said I ran out to rent yesterday But I didn’t stand up either... I cleverly inserted the matter of renting a house: it will be useful later!... They said I was insane!... Ha, ha, ha! He told me everything about last night Got it! He didn't know my mother was coming!... The old monster wrote the date with a pencil!... You're wrong, you can't catch me! You know, it's not really proof. It's just It's just a mirage. No, come on with solid evidence! Rent is not conclusive proof, it's my nonsense; I know what to say to them... do they know about rent? I don't know , never go! What did I come for? But I'm out of temper now, and maybe that's a solid proof! Pooh, how irritable I am! But maybe it's a good thing; I'm playing the part of a sick man . . . Touching me. He's going to confuse me. What am I here for?"
All these thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning.
Porfiry Petrovitch will be back in a moment.For some reason, he was suddenly very happy.
"Brother, when I got back from yesterday's meeting at your house, I'm out of my mind... I can't take it anymore," he said to Razumihin, laughing, in a completely different tone.
"Why, are you interested? Didn't I leave you yesterday when I was talking about the most interesting issue? Who won?"
"Of course, no one wins. We talked about some eternal issues, and everyone was dreaming."
"Come to think of it, Rodya, yesterday we talked about the existence of crime? I tell you, we talked about the absurdity."
"What's so strange? It's a common social problem," Raskolnikov answered absently.
"The question is not posed that way," Porfiry said.
"Yes, that's not how the question was put," agreed Razumihin at once, as anxious and passionate as ever. "Hey, Rodion, listen and tell me your opinion. I want to hear your opinion very much. I had a heated argument with them yesterday and was expecting your help; I told them you would come." ... We start from the point of view of the socialists. It is a well-known point of view: crime is a protest against the abnormality of social organization ... There can be no other explanation than this. No other explanation is allowed— — there is no other reason! . . . "
"Nonsense!" cried Porfiry Petrovitch.He seemed to be in high spirits, looked at Razumihin as far as he could, and kept laughing, thereby arousing the latter's excitement.
"No other explanation is allowed!" interposed Razumihin passionately. "I'm not talking nonsense! . . . I can show you a few books of theirs: everything seems to them to be 'the influence of circumstances'—and no other reason! It's their favorite phrase! From this Concluded: If the social organization is normal, then all crimes will be eliminated at once, because the object of protest will be lost, and all people will immediately become righteous. Nature is not considered, nature is rejected, Nature is held to be non-existent! They deny that human beings developed along the path of history will automatically form a normal society in the end. On the contrary, social institutions arising from mathematical minds will organize all human beings at once, making them Time becomes upright and pure, faster than any development process, without going through any historical development path! So they instinctively hate history: 'There is only ugliness and stupidity in history'-everything is explained as stupidity! So They loathe the development of life: a living soul is not needed! A living soul needs life, a living soul is disobedient to machinery, a living soul is suspicious, a living soul is obstinate and backward. What they need, though, is a little corpse Smelly, and can be made of rubber, but it is inanimate, willless, docile, and dare not resist! As a result, all their efforts are just to build walls with bricks, design Farenstel corridors and rooms! Farenstel is established, but your character to live the Farenstel life has not yet been formed. This requires living, and the process of living is not yet completed, and it is too early to go to the grave! Logic alone is Cannot go beyond nature! Logic can postulate three possibilities, but there are millions of possibilities! Put aside millions of possibilities and reduce it to a comfort problem! This is the easiest way to solve the problem! This is very clear Yes, don't think! The important thing is not to think! The whole secret of life is contained in two printed pages!"
"He's out of his mind and talking! Gotta stop him," laughed Porfiry. "Just think about it," he said, turning to Raskolnikov, "like last night when six people crowded into a room and had a heated argument while everyone was drinking beforehand. Rum—can you imagine? No, man, you're talking nonsense, 'circumstances' have a big influence on crime; I can prove it to you."
"I know, too. It has a great effect. Tell me, please: A man of forty abuses a girl of ten—is it because circumstances compel him to do so?"
"Well, strictly speaking, it may be an effect of circumstances," said Porfiry, with astonishing arrogance. "Girl abuse is a crime that can even be explained by 'environment'."
Razumihin was almost furious.
"Well, if you agree, I'll give you my reasons at once," he cried. "The only reason you have two pale eyebrows is because Ivan the Great was thirty-five sand ropes high. I can give clear, correct, progressive, even liberal reasons. I'll Tell you! You want to bet!"
"Well! Let's hear what reasons he can give!"
"He's always lying, hell!" cried Razumisin, standing up, waving his hands. "It's no fun talking to you! Rodion, he said that on purpose, you don't know him yet! He joined their party yesterday, just to tease everyone. My God, what did he say yesterday! They all listened with great interest." . . . He could talk like this for two weeks. Last year he suddenly told us that he was going to a convent. For two months he insisted on this idea! Not long ago, he suddenly had a whim and said that he was going to get married and everything about the wedding. Everything was ready, even a new suit was made. We all congratulated him. But there was no bride: it was all his imagination!"
"You're talking nonsense again! I ordered the clothes first. I wanted to trick you because I made new clothes."
"Are you really such a liar?" Raskolnikov asked casually.
"You think I'm not? You wait, I'll trick you too—ha, ha, ha! No, I'm going to tell you the truth. About crime and the environment and girls, I remember you now A paper I wrote came. But this one always interested me... The title was "On Crime"... or something, I forget the title, I don't remember. Two months ago, I Read it with gusto in the Periodic Review."
"Is my article published in Periodic Review?" asked Raskolnikov in surprise. "I dropped out of college six months ago, and I did write a review of a book, but I sent that review to the Weekly Review, not to the Regular Review."
"But in the Periodic Review."
"Because the Weekly Review ceased publication, it was not published at the time..."
"That's true; but the Weekly Review merged with the Periodic Review when it ceased publication, so your article appeared in the Periodic Review two months ago. Don't you know?"
Raskolnikov really knew nothing.
"Why, you can ask them for a fee! What a strange fellow you are! You live such a lonely life, and you don't know anything directly connected with you. It's a very real fact."
"Rochka, that's wonderful! I don't know!" cried Razumihin. "Today I ran to the reading room to borrow this issue of the magazine! Two months ago? What issue? I can find it anyway! So that's what happened! But he didn't tell anyone!"
"How do you know I wrote this article? This article is signed with a single letter."
"Acquainted with it a few days ago by chance. An editor told me; I know him well. . . I'm interested."
"What I have studied, as I recall, seems to be to analyze the state of mind of a criminal throughout the course of his crime."
"Yes, you assert that criminality often causes a disease. This is very novel; but ... to tell the truth, it was not this part of your article that interested me, but an insight expressed at the end of it. Unfortunately, you only hinted at this idea in a vague way... In short, if you remember, you hinted that there are people in the world who can ... that is, who can not only And have the full right to commit crimes and commit crimes as if they were not subject to the law."
Raskolnikov sneered: he was deliberately exaggerating and deliberately misinterpreting his point of view.
"What's the matter? What does it mean? Right to commit crimes? But not because of 'circumstances'?" asked Razumihin, even a little surprised.
"No, no, not at all for that reason," replied Porfiry. "The problem is that in his article, somehow, all people are divided into 'ordinary' and 'extraordinary' categories. Ordinary people must bow their heads and obey their orders when they live. They have no right to break the law, because you You know, they are ordinary people. But extraordinary people have the right to do all kinds of crimes, all kinds of crimes, in the final analysis, because they are extraordinary people. You seem to have this opinion, if I didn't misunderstand what?"
"How is that possible? He wouldn't say such a thing!" Razumihin said in bewilderment.
Raskolnikov sneered again.He understood at once what was going on and what they were trying to force him to do; he remembered his article.He was determined to accept the challenge.
"That's not my argument at all," he said simply and humbly. "But I admit that you have stated my argument almost faithfully, even quite faithfully... (He seems to be willing to admit it.) The only difference is that I have not insisted at all that extraordinary people must and must Often commits crimes, as you say. I even think that the press should not publish such articles. I am only implying that 'extraordinary people' have rights ... that is, not legal rights, but this Such a man has the right to cross ... certain obstacles unconscionably, but only when it is necessary to carry out his ideals (which may sometimes be the salvation of all mankind). You say that my article writes It's very vague, and I'll try to explain it to you as best I can. I think that seems to be what you want, maybe I'm not wrong. Let me explain. It seems to me that if Kepler's or Newton's discovery , for some intricate reasons, cannot be known to all, unless the lives of one, or ten, or a hundred, or more obstructers or hinderers are sacrificed, Newton will make his discoveries accessible to all mankind. Knowing, one has the right, even the duty...to exterminate the ten or the hundred. But it should never be concluded from this that Newton had the right to slaughter anyone he pleased, or to steal from the marketplace every day. I also Remember, I extended it in the article, everything... For example, even the legislators and the founders of human society, from ancient times, to the later Likurgos, Solon, Mohammed and Napoleon, etc., They are all criminals without exception, the only reason is that they have all made new laws, thus breaking the ancient laws handed down from their ancestors that are recognized by society as sacrosanct. Of course, they are not afraid of bloodshed, as long as bloodshed (The heroic bloodshed of very naive people at times in defense of ancient laws) can be in their favor. It is even worth noting that the vast majority of these benefactors and founders of human society are very terrible executioners. In short, I make to the conclusion that all these men were not only great, but slightly different. I mean, they could even come up with new insights, and by their very nature must be criminals—only in degree, of course. Otherwise, it would be difficult for them to appear outstanding; and still, of course, by their nature, they are not willing to be ordinary people, and in my opinion, they are even obliged to refuse. In short, you can see that to So far nothing particularly new has been seen in this respect. This cliché has been published and seen a thousand times in the press. As for my division of men into ordinary and extraordinary, I admit that such The division is somewhat arbitrary, but I don't insist on the immutability of numbers. I only believe in my main point of view. This point of view is: According to the laws of nature, people can be roughly divided into two categories: one is low-level people (ordinary people) , that is, they are, so to speak, a kind of material merely for the propagation of the same kind; and the other kind are those who, that is to say, are endowed and talented, capable of publishing new works in the society of the time. opinion. Of course, such a division can be divided intoThey can be infinitely finer, but the difference between these two types of people is quite significant: the first type of people is a kind of material, they are generally conservative by nature, follow the rules, must obey in life, and are willing to obey others.It seemed to me that they had a duty to obey because it was their calling, and they felt that it was not at all a breach of dignity.The second type of people, they all break the law, they are all destroyers, or want to destroy, according to their energy.The crimes of these men are of course relative and vary greatly; in various statements they overwhelmingly call for the destruction of the status quo in favor of a better future.But in order to realize his ideal, he even had to step over corpses and pools of blood, and I think he could bear to step over pools of blood-but it depends on the nature of the ideal and the scale of the ideal-you have to pay attention to this point.In my article, I only talk about their criminal rights in this sense. (You remember, we're talking about legal issues.) But there's no need to be surprised: the masses almost never recognize their right to execute or hang them (more or less).Such a disposition is perfectly just, and fulfills their conservative mission; but in the next few generations such masses will enshrine the executed people on pedestals and worship them (more or less).The first category is always the master of the present, and the second category is always the master of the future.The first kind maintains the world, increasing its number; the second kind advances the world, directing it towards its goal.These or those persons have an equal right to exist.In short, I think they all have equal rights,--vive la guerre eternelle, of course, until we build the New Jerusalem! "
"So do you still believe in the New Jerusalem?"
"I believe," replied Raskolnikov with determination; and as he said this, as he did in his long discourse, he kept his eyes fixed on the floor and on the carpet. a point on.
"Do you--do--believe in God, too? Forgive me for asking."
"I believe—believe," repeated Raskolnikov, raising his eyes to look at Porfiry.
"Do you also believe in the resurrection of Lazarus?"
"I believe—believe. What do you ask?"
"Do you really believe it?"
"Really believe it."
"It's . . . I'm asking such a question. I'm sorry. But," he returned to what he had just said, "you know, they are not executed forever; some people . . . "
"Victorious in life? Yes, some people are successful in life, so..."
"They started executing people?"
"If it's necessary, you know, even probably. You have a good point."
“谢谢。可是请您告诉我，怎样区别平凡的和不平凡的这两类人呢？他们出世的时候，有这样的标记吗？我的意思是，这需要更大的准确性，也可以说，需要更显著的外在的明确性；请原谅我这个实事求是的、善良的人所产生的很自然的忧虑，但是能不能，比方说，置办特别的服装，戴上什么东西和打上什么烙印呢？……因为，您也会有这种想法吧，如果发生混淆，这一类中的一个人就会认为他是属于另一类的人，就会开始'排除一切障碍'，正如您很愉快地所形容的，那么这……”
“啊，这是常有的！您这个看法甚至比刚才的更巧妙……”
“多承夸赞……”
“不必客气；可您要明白，错误可能只在第一类的人方面，就是说在'平凡的人'方面（我这样称呼他们也许是不恰当的）。尽管他们生来就唯命是从，但是由于某种甚至连母牛也具有的天生的顽皮性格，他们中间有很多人都喜欢以进步人士自居，或者自以为是'破坏者'，或是'新言论'的拥护者，而且这没有半点开玩笑的意思。的确，新人常常不为他们所注意，甚至把他们看作落后分子或者卑躬屈节的人。但我却认为，这不会有严重危险的，您实在不必担忧，因为他们决不会走得很远。当然，如果他们头脑发热，有时可以把他们揍一顿，让他们想到自己的身份，但不可过分。甚至不需要人去揍他们：他们自己会鞭挞自己的，因为他们都是品行端正的人；有些人会互相帮助，而另一些人会自我惩罚的……同时他们也作各种公开的忏悔——效果甚佳，也富有教育意义；总之，您不必担忧……这是天理嘛。”
“嗯，至少在这方面，您使我稍微放心；可我还有一个忧虑；请您告诉我，这些有权利屠杀别人的'不平凡的人'很多吗？我当然愿意向他们顶礼膜拜，可是您也会有种想法吧，如果这样的人很多，那是可怕的，对吗？”
“哦，这您也不必担忧，”拉斯柯尔尼科夫用同样的语调继续往下说。“总之，有新思想的人，甚至稍微能发表一些新见解的人，生得极少，少得可怜。只有一点很清楚：人的出生规则，这些等级和分类的规则，必须根据自然法则真实而准确地加以确定。当然这个法则现在还不知道，但是我相信，这个法则是客观存在的，以后能够为大家所知晓。芸芸众生，人类中的普通材料，生存在世界上只是为着经过某种努力，通过某种直到现在还是神秘莫测的过程，经过某个种族和血统的交配，而终于生出了多少具有独立自主精神的人，甚至一千人中只有一个。独立自主精神多一些的人也许一万人中出一个（我说个大概的数字，作为证明）。更多些的要十万人中出一个。几百万人中出几个天才，而伟大的天才，人类中的出类拔萃者，也许是世界上有了几十万万人以后才出现的。总之，我没有向产生这一切的蒸馏瓶里张望过。但是一定的法则是必然存在的；这不可能是偶然的。”
“怎么，你们俩在说笑话吗？”拉祖米兴末了叫道。“你们是不是在互相欺骗？他们坐在这儿，彼此开玩笑！罗佳，你不是在开玩笑吗？”
拉斯柯尔尼科夫默然向他抬起那苍白的、几乎是忧闷不乐的脸，不答理。在拉祖米兴看来，跟拉斯柯尔尼科夫那温和而忧郁的脸相比，波尔菲里那露骨的、纠缠不休的、刺激人的和肆无忌惮的挖苦似乎使人觉得奇怪。
“哦，老兄，如果这当真不是开玩笑，那么……你当然说得对，这并不新奇，跟我们已经读到过和听到过一千遍的毫无区别；但这里面什么是真正新奇的呢，——我毛骨悚然地说，的确，就是你一个人所提出的那个主张，就是你毕竟是昧着良心主张流血。请原谅我吧，甚至这么狂热……这样看来，这就是你那篇文章的主题思想。要知道，昧着良心主张流血，这……这，我认为，比官方或法律准许流血更可怕……”
“一点儿不错，更可怕，”波尔菲里回答道。
“不，你有点儿言过其实了！错误就在这里。我要拜读一下……你言过其实了！你不会这样想……我要拜读一下。”
“文章里根本没有这个主张，文章里只作了一些暗示，”拉斯柯尔尼科夫说。
“对啊，对啊，”波尔菲里坐不住了。“我现在才算弄清楚了您的犯罪观念。但是……请原谅我纠缠不休（多多麻烦，很抱歉！），您要知道：您刚才使我消除了分不清两类人的忧虑。可是……各种实际情况立刻又使我不安起来！假定说，有个男人或一个青年自认为是里库尔果斯或穆罕默德……——当然是未来的——而且为了这个目的而要排除一切障碍……说他将要远征，而远征需要钱……于是他开始为远征而筹措钱……您懂得我的意思吗？”
扎苗托夫突然从角落里嗤了一下鼻子。拉斯柯尔尼科夫连看也不看他一眼。
“我应当承认，”他沉着地回答道。“实际上，这样的事情一定会发生的。愚蠢和爱虚荣的人尤其会上当；特别是青年。”
“您明白啦。那么怎么办呢？”
“就是这样嘛，”拉斯柯尔尼科夫笑了笑。“这不是我的过错。就是这样嘛，而且永远是这样。他（他向拉祖米兴点点头）刚才说，我主张流血。那又怎么样呢？流放、监狱、法庭和苦役充分保障着社会的安宁，有什么可忧虑的？您只要去捉贼！……”
“要是我们把他逮住了呢？”
“他活该。”
“您的见解的确合乎逻辑。那么他的良心怎样呢？”
“他的良心关您什么事？”
“本着人道精神嘛。”
“有良心的人，如果他认识到犯了错误，就会感到痛苦的。这也是对他的惩罚——苦役以外的惩罚。”
“那么真正的天才，”拉祖米兴脸色阴沉地问。“就是那些取得了屠杀权利的人。那些人即使杀了人，也绝对不应该受苦吗？”
“为什么说'应该'？这不是一个许可或禁止的问题。应该让他受苦，如果同情被害者的话……精神上和肉体上的痛苦，对于有大智的和深谋远虑的人永远是不可避免的。我觉得，真正的伟大人物应当忧天下之忧，”他突然沉思地补充说，甚至不像是谈话的口气。
他猛然抬起眼来了，沉思地打量了一下所有的人，微微一笑，一边拿起帽子。跟刚才进来时的神气比较起来，他是过于镇静沉着了。他也有这种感觉。所有的人都站起来了。
“嗯，您骂我也罢，不骂我也罢；您生气也罢，不生气也罢，我都受不了，”波尔菲里·彼得罗维奇又断然说。“让我再提一个问题（多多麻烦您！），我想谈一下一个没有多大意思的想法。我所以要谈一下，只是免得忘记……”
“好吧，谈谈您的没有多大意思的想法吧，”拉斯柯尔尼科夫站在他面前等着，脸色严肃而苍白。
“就是这样……我实在不知道怎样才能说得更清楚……这完全是一种开玩笑的想法，心理上的……您写文章的时候……嗨，嗨！您免不了把自己也看作——哪怕只有一点儿——用您的话来说，一个'不平凡的'、能发表新见解的人……是这样吗？”
“很可能，”拉斯柯尔尼科夫鄙夷地回答道。
拉祖米兴扭动了一下身体。
“要是这样，难道您就决意——因为生活上某些挫折或穷困，或者为了使全人类幸福——去逾越一切障碍吗？……比方说，杀人、抢劫？……”
他不知怎的忽然又向他挤挤左眼，无声地笑了起来，和刚才完全一样。
“如果我逾越了，我当然不告诉您，”拉斯柯尔尼科夫带着挑衅的神气，傲慢而鄙夷地回答道。
“不，我只对这很感兴趣。说实在的，为了弄懂您的文章，而且只限于语言规范方面……”
“呸，这多么露骨和无耻！”拉斯柯尔尼科夫心里厌恶地想。
“请允许我说一句，”他冷冷地回答道。“我并不把自己看作穆罕默德或拿破仑……也不自认为是这一类的人物，因为我不是他们，所以我没法作出使您满意的解释：我会怎样行动。”
“得啦，在我们俄罗斯，现在谁个不认为自己是拿破仑？”波尔菲里忽然用非凡亲昵的口气说，连他的声调里这会儿也含有一个十分明显的意思。
“上星期用斧头劈死我们阿廖娜·伊凡诺夫娜的是不是一个未来的拿破仑？”扎苗托夫忽然从角落里唐突地说。
拉斯柯尔尼科夫不做声，目光坚定地凝视着波尔菲里。拉祖米兴忧闷不乐地拧紧了眉头。在这以前，他仿佛已经开始注意到什么。他愤怒地四下望望。一阵极不愉快的沉默持续了片刻工夫。拉斯柯尔尼科夫返身要走。
“您要走啦！”波尔菲里和蔼地说，异常客气地伸过手去。“我十分高兴跟您相识。至于您的请求，那毫无问题。您照我所说的写份请求书来。最好您亲自到那儿去找我……一两天内随便什么时候……明儿也好。十一点钟我一定在那儿。办完一切手续，我们谈一谈……您是上那儿去的最后一个人，也许能告诉我们什么情况……”他态度极和善地补了一句。
“您想要按照法律程序正式审问我？”拉斯柯尔尼科夫厉声问。
“为什么？目前还没有这个必要。您误会了我的意思。要知道，我不放过一个机会……我已经跟所有押户都谈过话……我已经从一些人口中得到了证词……您是最后一个……哦，顺便说说！”他不知为什么忽然高兴起来，叫喊道。“我刚巧记起了我正在思考的一个问题！……”他转身向着拉祖米兴，“要知道，你老是提到这个尼古拉什卡，听得我的耳朵起了老茧……嗯，我知道，我知道，”他又转身向拉斯柯尔尼科夫，“这个人是无辜的。可我有什么办法呢，不得不麻烦一下米杰卡……问题，问题的实质在于：您上楼的时候……请问，您是七点多钟上楼的吗？”
“七点多钟，”拉斯柯尔尼科夫回答道，他心里立刻觉得不满，这句话他可以不说。
“您七点多钟上楼的，可曾看见二楼上门开着的那套房间里——您记得吗？——有两个工匠，或者至少有其中的一个？您看见他们在那儿油漆吗？这对他们是非常重要的！……”
“两个油漆匠？不，我没有看见……”拉斯柯尔尼科夫慢条斯理地仿佛沉浸在回忆中似的回答道。这当儿，他的神经根根紧张起来了，因为想快些猜出圈套设在哪里，有没有疏忽大意，而痛苦得心都揪紧了。“不，我没有看见，也没有注意到开着门的那套房间……可是四楼上（他已经充分了解这个圈套，觉得很得意）——我记得有个官吏在搬家……就是阿廖娜·伊凡诺夫娜对门的那一套房间……我记得……这我记得很清楚……几个士兵搬出来了一张长沙发，把我挤到了墙跟前……可是两个油漆匠……不，我记不起有油漆匠……而且似乎没有一家开着门。是的；没有……”
“你说什么啊！”拉祖米兴仿佛清醒过来，领悟了似的，忽然叫道。“在谋杀案发生那一天有两个油漆匠在油漆，而他是在三天前上那儿去的？你问这干什么？”
“哎哟！我弄错了！”波尔菲里拍了一下自己的额门。“该死，我被这件事搞糊涂了！”他对拉斯柯尔尼科夫说，仿佛很抱歉似的。“弄清楚七点多钟有没有人在那套房间里见过他们，这对我们是很重要的。可是现在我以为，您也能告诉我们……我完全搞错了！”
“你应该细心些。”拉祖米兴脸色阴沉地说。
最后几句话是在前室里说的。波尔菲里·彼得罗维奇异常客气地送他们到门口。两个人走到了街上，他们都脸色阴沉、愁眉不展，走了好多步路，没有谈过一句话。拉斯柯尔尼科夫深长地舒了口气……
Notes:
Notes: