VARVARA: What money is she talking about?
DASHA: Nicholas Stavrogin had asked me in Switzerland to hand over a certain sum to Maria Lebyatkin.
VARVARA: Nicholas? DASHA: Nicholas himself.
VARVARA (after a silence): All right. Since he did so without mentioning it to me, he must have had reasons for doing so. But in the future I shall ask you to be more careful. That Lebyatkin does not have a good reputation.
MARIA: Oh, no! And if he comes, you must send him to the kitchen. That’s his place. You can give him coffee if you wish. But I hold him in utter contempt.
ALEXEY YEGOROVICH (coming in): A certain Mr. Lebyatkin is very insistent about being announced.
MAURICE: Allow me to say, madame, that he is not the kind of man to be received in good society..
VARVARA: Yet I am going to receive him. (To ALEXEY YEGOROVICH) Tell him to come up. (ALEXEY YEGOROVICH leaves.) Since you must know, I received anonymous letters informing me that my son is a monster and warning me against a crippled woman destined to play a large part in my life. I want to get to the bottom of the matter.
PRASCOVYA: I, too, have received those letters. And you know what they say about this woman and Nicholas. . . .
VARVARA: I know.
(LEBYATKIN comes in, titillated without being quite drunk. He goes toward VARVARA STAVROGIN.)
LEBYATKIN: I have come,. madame—
VARVARA: Sit down in that chair, sir. You can be heard just as well from there. (He wheels about and goes and sits down.) Now, will you introduce yourself?
LEBYATKIN (rising): Captain Lebyatkin. I have come, madame—
VARVARA: Is this person your sister? LEBYATKIN: Yes, madame. She eluded my vigilance for … I wouldn’t want you to think that I was saying anything bad about my sister, but . . . (He taps his forehead with his finger.)
VARVARA: Did this misfortune happen long ago? LEBYATKIN: On a certain day, madame, yes, a certain day … I have come to thank you for having taken her in. Here are twenty rubles. (He
goes toward her as the others all bestir themselves as if to protect VARVARA STAVROGIN.)
VARVARA: Why, you must be mad, my man. LEBYATKIN: NO, madame. Rich is your dwelling and poor is the dwelling of the Lebyatkins, but Maria my sister, nee Lebyatkin, the nameless Maria would not have accepted from anyone but you the ten rubles you gave her. From you, madame, and from you alone she will accept anything. But while she accepts with one hand, she gives with the other to one of your charities. VARVARA: That is done through my porter, sir, and you may do so as you leave. I beg you therefore to put your money away and not to wave it in my face. I shall thank you also to sit down again.
Now explain yourself and tell me why your sister can accept anything from me.
LEBYATKIN: Madame, that is a secret that I shall carry to the grave with me.
VARVARA: Why?
LEBYATKIN: May I ask you a question openly, in the Russian manner, from the depths of my heart?
VARVARA: I am listening.
LEBYATKIN: Is it possible to die just because of too noble a soul?
VARVARA: That is a question I have never asked myself.
LEBYATKIN: Really never? Well, if that’s the way it is . . . (He strikes his chest vigorously.) Be silent, heart; there is no hope!
(MARIA TIMOFEYEVNA bUTStS OUt laUghlflg.) VARVARA: Stop talking in conundrums, sir, and answer my question. Why can she accept anything from me?
LEBYATKIN: Why? Oh, madame, every day for millennia the whole of nature has been asking the Creator «Why?» and we are still awaiting the reply. Is Captain Lebyatkin to be the only one
to answer? Would that be fair? I should like to be named Paul and yet I am named Ignatius. Why? I am a poet, with the soul of a poet, and yet I live in a pigsty. Why?
VARVARA: YOU are expressing yourself bombastically, and I look upon that as insolent. LEBYATKIN: NO, madame, not insolent. I am just an infinitesimal insect, but the insect does not complain. A man is sometimes forced to put up with the dishonor of his family rather than to speak the truth. So Lebyatkin will not complain; he will not say one word too many. You must, madame, admit his greatness of soul!
(ALEXEY YEGOROVICH comes in, showing great emotion.)
ALEXEY YEGOROVICH: Nicholas Stavrogin has come.
(All turn toward the door. Hasty steps are heard and PETER VERKHOVENSKY enters.)
STEPAN: But . . . PRASCOVYA: But it’s . . .
PETER: Greetings, Varvara Stavrogin. STEPAN: Peter! Why, it’s Peter, my son! (He rushes up and embraces PETER.)
PETER: All right. All right. Don’t get excited. (He breaks away.) Just imagine, I rush in expecting to find Nicholas Stavrogin. He left me a halfhour ago at Kirilov’s and asked me to meet him here. He will be here any minute, and I am happy to announce this good news.
STEPAN: But I haven’t seen you in ten years. PETER (moving from one person to another in the room): All the more reason for not going all to pieces. Behave yourself! Oh, Lisa, how happy I am! And your esteemed mother hasn’t forgotten me? How are your legs? Dear Varvara Stavrogin, I had told my father, but naturally he forgot. …
STEPAN: Man enfant, quelle joie!
PETER: Yes, you love me. But leave me alone. Ah! Here is Nicholas!
(STAVROGIN enters.)
VARVARA: Nicholas! (At the tone of her voice, STAVROGIN stops dead.) I beg you to tell me at once, before you take even one step, whether it is true that this woman here is your legitimate wife.
(STAVROGIN stares at her, smiles, then walks toward her and kisses her hand. With the same calm stare he walks toward MARIA TIMOFEYEVNA. MARIA gets up with an expression of painful delight on her face.)
STAVROGIN (with extraordinary gentleness and affection) : You must not stay here.
MARIA: May I, right here and now, kneel down before you?
STAVROGIN (smiling): No, you may not. I am not your brother or your fiance or your husband, am I? Take my arm. With your permission, I shall take you home to your brother. (She casts a frightened look toward LEBYATKIN.) Fear nothing. Now that I am here, he will not touch you. MARIA: Oh, I fear nothing. At last you have come. Lebyatkin, call for the carriage.
(LEBYATKIN leaves, STAVROGIN gives his arm to MARIA TIMOFEYEVNA, who takes it with a radiant expression on her face. But as she walks she stumbles and would fall but for STAVROGIN holding her. He leads her toward the exit, showing her great consideration, amid an absolute silence. LISA, who has risen from her chair, sits down again with a shudder of disgust. As soon as they have left, everyone stirs.)
VARVARA (to PRASCOVYA DROZDOV) : Well, did you hear what he just said?
PRASCOVYA: Of course. Of course! But why didn’t he answer you?
PETER: Why, he couldn’t, I assure you! VARVARA (suddenly looking at him): Why not? What do you know about it?
PETER: I know all about it. But the story was too long for Nicholas to relate just now. I can tell it to you, for I saw it all.
VARVARA: If you give me your word of honor that what you say will not hurt Nicholas in any way . . .
PETER: Quite the contrary! He will even be grateful to me for having spoken. You see, we were together in St. Petersburg five years ago and Nicholas was leading—how shall I put it?—an ironic life. Yes, that’s the word. He was bored then, but did not want to fall into despair. Hence he did nothing and went out with anyone at all. Through nobility of soul, you might say, like a man above all that sort of thing. In short, he spent his time with knaves. Thus it is that he knew that Lebyatkin, a fool and parasite. He and his sister were living in abject poverty. One day in a cabaret someone insulted that lame girl. Nicholas got up, seized the insulter by the collar, and with a single blow threw him out. That’s all. [VARVARA: What do you mean, «that’s all»?
PETER: Yes, that’s where it all started. The lame girl fell in love with her Knight, who nevertheless never spoke two sentences to her. People made fun of her. Nicholas was the only one who didn’t laugh and treated her with respect. ] STEPAN: Why, that is very chivalrous. [PETER: Yes, you see, my father feels the same way the lame girl did. Kirilov, on the other hand, did not.
VARVARA: Why not?
PETER: He used to say to Nicholas: «It’s because you treat her like a duchess that she is losing all selfpossession.»
LISA: And what did the Knight reply?
PETER: «Kirilov,» he said, «you think I am making fun of her, but you are wrong. I respect her, for she is worth more than all of us.»
STEPAN: Sublime! And even, you might say, chivalrous. . . .]
PETER: Yes, chivalrous. Unfortunately, the lame girl eventually came to imagine that Nicholas was her fiance. Finally, when Nicholas had to leave Petersburg, he arranged to leave behind an annual allowance for the lame girl.
LISA: Why that?
PETER: I don’t know. A whim perhaps—the kind a man indulges in when he is prematurely tired of existence. Kirilov, on the other hand, claimed that it was the fancy of
