The Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Novels, Short Stories and Autobiographical Writings. Федор Достоевский
is that Nellie’s mother was the craziest and most senseless woman in the world. She was extraordinary woman; consider all the circumstances, her romanticism, all that star-gazing nonsense in it’s wildest and craziest form. Take one point: from the very beginning she dreamed of something like a heaven upon earth, of angels; her love was boundless, her faith was limitless, and I’m convinced that she went mad afterwards, not because he got tired of her and cast her off, but because she was deceived in him, because he was capable of deceiving her and abandoning her, because her idol was turned into clay, had spat on her, and humiliated her Her romantic and irrational soul could not endure this transformation, and the insult besides. Do you realize what an insult it was? In her horror and, above all, her pride, she drew back from him with infinite contempt. She broke all ties, tore up her papers, spat upon his money, forgetting that it was not her money, but her father’s, refused it as so much dirt in order to crush her seducer by her spiritual grandeur, to look upon him having robbed her, and to have the right to despise him all her life. And very likely she said that she considered it a dishonour to call herself his wife. We have no divorce in Russia, but de facto they were separated, and how could she ask him for her after that! Remember that the mad creature said to Nellie on her deathbed, ‘Don’t go to him; work, perish, but don’t go to him, whoever may try to take you.’ So that even then she was dreaming that she would be sought out, and so would be able once more to avenge herself by crushing the seeker with her contempt. In short, she fed on evil dreams instead of bread. I’ve got a great deal out of Nellie, brother; in fact, I get a good deal still. Her mother was ill, of course, in consumption;, the disease specially develops bitterness and every sort of irritability yet I know for certain, through a crony of the woman Bubnov’s that she did write to the prince, yes, to the prince, actually to the prince….”
“She wrote! And did he get the letter?” I cried.
“That’s just it. I don’t know whether he did or not. On one occasion Nellie’s mother approached that crony. (Do you remember that painted wench? Now she’s in the penitentiary.) Well, she’d written the letter and she gave it to her to take, but didn’t send it after all and took it back. That was three weeks before her death… a significant fact; if once she brought herself to send it, even though she did take it back, she might have sent it again — I don’t know; but there is one reason for believing that she really did not send it, for the prince, I fancy, only found out for certain that she had been in Petersburg, and where she’d been living, after her death. He must have been relieved!”
“Yes, I remember Alyosha mentioned some letter that his father was very much pleased about, but that was quite lately, not more than two months ago. Well, go on, go on. What of your dealings with the prince?
“My dealings with the prince? Understand, I had a complete moral conviction, but not a single positive proof, not a single one, in spite of all my efforts. A critical position! I should have had to make inquiries abroad. But where? — I didn’t know. I realized, of course, that there I should have a hard fight for it, that I could only scare him by hints, pretend I knew more than I really did….”
“Well, what then?”
“He wasn’t taken in, though he was scared; so scared that he’s in a funk even now. We had several meetings. What a leper he made himself out! Once in a moment of effusion he fell to telling me the whole story. That was when he thought I knew all about it. He told it well, frankly, with feeling — of course he was lying shamelessly. It was then I took the measure of his fear for me. I played the simpleton one time to him, and let him see I was shamming. I played the part awkwardly — that is, awkwardly on purpose. I purposely treated him to a little rudeness, began to threaten him, all that he might take me for a simpleton and somehow let things out. He saw through it, the scoundrel! Another time I pretended to be drunk. That didn’t answer either — he’s cunning. You can understand that, Vanya. I had to find out how far he was afraid of me; and at the same time to make him believe I knew more than I did.”
“Well, and what was the end of it?”
“Nothing came of it. I needed proofs and I hadn’t got them. He only realized one thing, that I might make a scandal. And, of course, a scandal was the one thing he was afraid of, and he was the more afraid of it because he had began to form ties here. You know he’s going to be married, of course?”
“No.”
“Next year. He looked out for his bride when he was here last year; she was only fourteen then. She’s fifteen by now, still in pinafores, poor thing! Her parents were delighted. You can imagine how anxious he must have been for his wife to die. She’s a general’s daughter, a girl with money — heaps of money! You and I will never make a marriage like that, friend Vanya…Only there’s something I shall never forgive myself for as long as I live!” cried Masloboev, bringing his fist down on the table. That he got the better of me a fortnight ago … the scoundrel!”
“How so?”
“It was like this. I saw he knew I’d nothing positive to go upon; and I felt at last that the longer the thing dragged on the more he’d realize my helplessness. Well, so I consented to take two thousand from him.”
“You took two thousand!”
“In silver, Vanya; it was against the grain, but I took it. As though such a job were worth no more than two thousand! It was humiliating to take it. I felt as though he’d spat upon me. He said to me: ‘I haven’t paid you yet, Masloboev, for the work you did before.’ (But he had paid long ago the hundred and fifty roubles we’d agreed upon.) ‘Well, now I’m going away; here’s two thousand, and so I hope everything’s settled between us.’ So I answered, ‘Finally settled, prince,’ and I didn’t dare to look into his ugly face. I thought it was plainly written upon it, ‘Well, he’s got enough. I’m simply giving it to the fool out of goodnature.’ I don’t remember how I got away from him!”
“But that was disgraceful, Masloboev,” I cried. “What about Nellie!”
“It wasn’t simply disgraceful … it was criminal … it was loathsome. It was … it was … there’s no word to describe it!”
“Good heavens! He ought at least to provide for Nellie!”
“Of course he ought! But how’s one to force him to? Frighten him? Not a bit of it, he won’t be frightened; you see, I’ve taken the money. I admitted to him myself that all he had to fear from me was only worth two thousand roubles. I fixed that price on myself! How’s one going to frighten him now?”
“And can it be that everything’s lost for Nellie?” I cried, almost in despair.
“Not a bit of it! “ cried Masloboev hotly, starting up. “No, I won’t let him off like that. I shall begin all over again, Vanya. I’ve made up my mind to. What if I have taken two thousand? Hang it all! I took it for the insult, because he cheated me, the rascal; he must have been laughing at me. He cheated me and laughed at me, too! No, I’m not going to let myself be laughed at…. Now, I shall start with Nellie, Vanya. From things I’ve noticed I’m perfectly sure that she has the key to the whole situation. She knows all — all about it! Her mother told her. In delirium, in despondency, she might well have told her. She had no one to complain to. Nellie was at hand, so she told Nellie. And maybe we may come upon some documents,” he added gleefully, rubbing his hands. “You understand now, Vanya, why I’m always hanging about here? In the first place, because I’m so fond of you, of course; but chiefly to keep a watch on Nellie; and another thing, Vanya, whether you like it or not, you must help me, for you have an influence on Nellie!…”
“To be sure I will, I swear!” I cried. “And I hope, Masloboev, that you’ll do your best for Nellie’s sake, for the sake of the poor, injured orphan, and not only for your own advantage.”
“What difference does it make to you whose advantage I do my best for, you blessed innocent? As long as it’s done, that’s what matters! Of course it’s for the orphan’s sake, that’s only common humanity. But don’t you judge me too finally, Vanya, if I do think of myself. I’m a poor man, and he mustn’t dare to insult the poor. He’s robbing me of